My job's to entertain.
It feels like more than just my job, though. A job is something that only takes up part of your time, something you can quit, something you can walk away from, even if just for a few minutes
I can't walk away from this. Every second, of every minute, of every hour, of everyday, I am performing. I bare this more like a curse than a job. People just don't care about me unless I'm making them laugh, and damn, am I good at it.
I carry your woes deep in my heart, and I comfort you better than a parent. I stand before you with my heart in my hands and you tear through it. The bells on my suit jingle from the inside of armour as I fight your wars for you too. God forbid I force feed you accountability though, you won't take it. You won't even hesitate to eat it out of my hands, you only refuse.
I was once a Princess, and I am now a Jester, and soon I will be the King. Hold your heirs to the throne because that seat is mine. For all the ways this court has used me, for all the laughs I will get for sitting above you all, these castle walls will surely be painted with your regret when the people you use and ridicule gather their strength
I mean, it's not as if I'll miss you much. However, who else will make you fall over giggling as much as I did? Someone that does the job assigned to them? You never wanted that. You wanted a toy, and I served, because I didn't know any better.
Learning much more, the only thing I'll be serving is your death on a silver platter. And you'll make me spoon feed you poison. and you'll criticize my "bad cooking", choking on your own words.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I am the king
my job's to fix this incompetent mess you made.
