a Killer Joker

He was a joker by trade, and a trickster that played. Those who would laugh, would be charged by the batch. And those that would sneer, he would force off a pier. Let me tell you of a story, about a man who worked the quarry. The day was of old, but the man ever so bold. With everyone else as bland as can be, he would pounce around in circles with glee. His days seem to go together, like an endless wave of broken wonder. Once a rainbow of love of color, were now a mass of clouds that just got duller.

As he would journey across some broken seas, the people seemed to never be at ease. His name would cross the lips of nobility, and his acts you sore was an impossibility. A flaming sword trusted down his throat, or turning a mouse into a billy goat. Yet do not ever say his name in vain, without the fear of a spear through your brain.

Although most would laugh all night, some would become victims of his blight. As he would go from town to town, the stains of crimson would be left around. Horses missing and maidens too, some would be gone except for their shoe. In one such a case, he made it known about his grace. With the simple pointing of a finger, the people would gasp and never linger.

He once made his long lasting journey, sending many home on a gurney. As he would cross a massive wooden bridge, he spotted his next target by a nearby ridge. A smaller town before a monstrous city, he did not stay long but for much of his pity. The poor would reach out and try and touch him, all he would do was look down with a grim. His followers would see, only to break at their knees. And our little Joker with a smile on his face, would laugh at their anguish and walk away with much grace.

The city was to be just his last stop, a capital of sorts that he hoped not a flop. The king would soon hear of the tricksters return, once such a bust he was chased out with a burn. In his next little show, he was to give them a glow. With his true purposed obscured, he would leave them all assured.

Yes! He would say, that this was the day. To get on with his goal, as he met the king on his stroll. He would grab the king's hand and kiss at his rings, scaring every bird in sight and grabbing at their wings. Leading the king to a table, with a look of disgust, no cup would lifted, with an air of distrust.

Here he would sit, at a table barely lit. No candle or fire in sight, but Oh! what a delight. With a smile on his face, the trickster grabbed at a vase. The gentle flowers were bright and perky, but he soon turned their water murky. With a hysterical laugh he turned to the king, and dumped out the water, giving the vase a big swing.

Within moments came his peers, that of which gathered throughout the years. Not knowing many by name, they all knew his game. With torches in hand, they came toward the king as per the plan.

And with one loud boast, he gave the order for a toast. Yelling out, My dear fatherly king! Won't you treat us and sing? He stood up and frowned with puff, saying ' you are not so tough'. But that is where the mighty king was wrong, for this was his own game and could not deny, to play along.

The trickster began to dance around, the guards laughing at the flailing clown. But they did not see with in his hands, a little flame that flickered that the dry sand in the south land.

With all the commotion of his peers lost in boasting, the trickster was getting ready for another toasting. With a look so enraged and eyes crazed, he lunged at the king with his drink while setting him ablaze.

He yelled out to the king that the color very much suited him, that maybe he should go for a very long swim. With such a loud laugh he yelled out to the smoker, prancing around before the guards would chase at him, our Killer Joker.