The Return of the King by Dan BiegerSUMMARY: It's Mr. Bf1v3's fault.
http://www.sffworld.com/forums/showthread.php?t=16511It began with a mime, a meme, and an old man, the mime acting the meme in Covent Garden on a Tuesday afternoon when the crowds were less than normal. A mere handful of people watched the performance, all of whom then took a table in the Nag's Head pub to quaff a pint or two. Of their conversation, only snippets remain, odd and ends overheard by the staff as they served or passed by. All such accounts are unreliable but then reliability seems not an issue in cases such as these. One such snippet goes:
"The air guitar had to be a 12-string; did you see his calluses?"
"Then it must have been one of the Everlys because he didn't play a 12-string."
"No, no, no, the Everlys had brown hair."
"Did Paul play a 12-string?"
Another snippet runs:
"So the side burns were more mutton chop than proper, say more Hegelian than Fonzarellian; so what? The gold lamé was on target as were the suede shoes."
And yet another:
"With that hip movement, it was early him, you know? Jailhouse rock era."
And another:
"God, I loved that ending. You could hear the "thank you; thank you very much" in the bow."
And a final:
"But the flourish of the cape to the old man watching, tasting his unlit pipe, the thinning grey hair, the more modest sideburns, the twinkle in his eye. He looked almost donnish, you know? The mime bows, the old man nods. What a performance!"
Those whose words are now history have never come forth to acknowledge their mistake or to take their bows, fifteen minutes evidently not in their plans.
We searched, of course. Looked at all the records for all the entertainers for Covent Garden that month, the preceding month, the month after. Those spaces are precious; one just doesn't preempt a corner without incurring the wrath of official and un-officialdom. Yet, there are no records that such a person contracted to play Covent Garden. Certainly, this will do wonders for the legends of the place. Having him show up anywhere in England must be reckoned quite remarkable but in Covent Garden as a mime? A paradigm buster if ever there may be.
Our search engine did produce another occurrence, oddly on the same day at the same time in the yard at Merton College. Well, we know that he was a prankster of some repute and the old man was no foreigner to a sense of humor but this stretches credulity. Merton College? Why there? For that matter, why Covent Garden? Then, again, where else but the Royal Opera House could you expect him to perform? Pop icons, you see; recognizing one other, - the highest form of art - with perfect symmetry.
Once the math was complete - one and one became two and two and two and so forth - the inevitable appeared. Now, there is a new facility on the street, open to the public, stadium seats where true believers sit for hours awaiting a next performance yet to happen but, as they say, hope springs eternal. There would be a similar facility at Merton College but the powers that are remain powerful enough to forestall such a travesty on hallowed ground. Still, the authorities must sweep the yard every hour or so to remove the faithful from their appointed vigils.
Futile of course, for nowhere is it foreseen or foretold or predicted that the king returns twice.
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