(Audience) Static and the Sea

This is a legend of Mr. Kong.

They say when Mr. Kong was young, he too loved the delicious chocolate flavor of Kui-ke brand flavored milk. He had a clubhouse very much like the Qwik Club’s. Like them, he would help out Superman whenever Superman got into trouble, and otherwise perform tasks helpful to the moral development of the State of Lu.

Perhaps this is why the Qwik Club is in the mood for Confucian fables today—or perhaps it’s the frustrating static over the sea, drowning out the histories of young Confucius that are shown even now in the distant Gibbelins’ Tower. Quick, Qwik Club, to work! Pierce the static and find meaning in the emptiness!

Such is your filial piety.

3 thoughts on “(Audience) Static and the Sea

  1. *semi-paralyzed by stage fright*

    So, uh, once upon a time there was a young man named Mr. Kong.

    He met a young man named Ananda.

    Ananda used to be a disciple of the Buddha. But he abandoned him in search of a sage with a cooler superpower.

    Mr. Kong seems promising.

    “Mr. Kong,” says Ananda boldly, after arriving at his door and being courteously seated and served tea by Mr. Kong himself, “do you have any cool superpowers?”

    “I am not sure,” says Mr. Kong, courteously. “A change has come to the world, and I have not yet parsed all of its implications. It may be that it assigns superpowers to unworthy nascent sages such as myself. My suspicions, however, run along another track entirely. Why do you ask?”

    “I’m looking for a master,” says Ananda, blushing. “I’d like one with a superpower. It would be nice if it was a really cool one like flying or X-ray vision, but I’d settle for a master who could turn ordinary milk into a delicious, chocolatey beverage.”

    The walls of Mr. Kong’s modest yet immaculate abode tremble and shimmer, as if confronted for a moment with a greater reality than their own.

    Mr. Kong looks sharply at Ananda.

    “Honored guest,” he says, “I do not believe that you understand what sort of power you invoke with your words. Therefore, although I do not believe I am the master you are looking for, I will venture to enlighten you on certain key points, both for your own benefit and to preserve the integrity of my humble walls.”

    Ananda is all ears.

    “I appreciate the physical manifestation of your attentiveness,” says Mr. Kong, “but please reduce the unseemly and slightly alarming number of your ears.”

    Ananda reverts to his normal number of ears. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

    Mr. Kong leans forward slightly.

    When he has finished telling Ananda what he has to tell him, Ananda is pale and trembling.

    “Mr. Kong,” he stammers, “I–I didn’t know.”

    “Now you do,” replies Mr. Kong, not ungently.

    “Will– will the walls hold, sir?” Ananda pleads.

    “For a time,” answers Mr. Kong. “Yes. The change in the world has only made things more confusing and less comprehensible. It has not deprived me of the ability to set them in order. Which does not,” he adds swiftly, “qualify as a superpower.”

    “It seems like one,” says Ananda timidly. “I mean, it’s not the ability to turn milk into–” He hastily corrects himself. “I mean, to choose another example, it’s not the ability to, uh, summon artificial fruit refreshment out of thin air–”

    A horrible, bulbous creature bursts through the wall of Mr. Kong’s dwelling. Ananda screams. Mr. Kong seizes a shuriken from one of the remaining three walls and, with a swift and sure motion, slices the creature open. With a sound like shattering glass, the creature falls and gurgles out its grape-scented life on Mr. Kong’s hitherto immaculate floor.

    Ananda stares at the creature, then at Mr. Kong, torn between awe, terror, and guilt.

    “I–” he gasps. “You didn’t tell me those were words of power too!”

    “I did not know,” says Mr. Kong. He seems shaken. “Nor can I understand why it should be so.”

    The creature’s eyes and rictus of a smile are slowly fading from its face.

    “You’re a hero!” cries Ananda. “Only heroes can kill monsters!”

    “I am not sure,” says Mr. Kong slowly, “that this was a monster.”

    “Things that crash through your walls uninvited are monsters,” says Ananda authoritatively.

    “Once,” says Mr. Kong, “it was so. But now I am no longer sure.”

    “Oh,” says Ananda. After a long silence, he says, “Sorry about your wall.”

    “It is of no consequence,” says Mr. Kong, distractedly. “I wish you well in your quest to find a master with a cool superpower.”

    “I’d settle for one with a shuriken,” says Ananda shyly. But Mr. Kong does not answer him, and after another long silence, Ananda rises and slowly leaves through the hole in the wall.

  2. *blush*

    Thank you!

    *attempts to curtsy, gets tangled in the Mr. Kong costume and falls down into a puddle of grape sugar water*

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