Dahm's Nightmare

Thee Riri

Sitting on his throne, he called another jester forward.

Although, jesters, they were not. Prisoners were to perform the frivolous dreaming’s of the mad king. Some were successful in obtaining their freedom by making him laugh. Others were sent back to the holding cells for re-evaluation. The others were killed.

The king, today, was in a mood. He grumbled and mumbled on his seat, clearly upset and disturbed.

“Sir, could I get you anything to make you more comfortable?” a big strong man with muscles and tears coming down his face asked sweetly.

“I’m upset. No one laughed at my jokes at the party last night.” The mad king grumbled.

The chiseled god-like man with a penis, just tilted his head and let crocodile tears fall.

“I’ll show them…” Dahm jumped down from his seat and noted that – normally his feet were much closer to the floor. “Everyone, gather round!” he bolstered.

The people in chains, grouped together reluctantly. The herd of tall handsome, elegant, and muscled men with chubby white women wearing too much makeup. All looked the same, non threatening, obedient, and mild mannered.

Dahm looked at the crowd and found him to be about eye level with everyone, he always towered over the crowds…he pushed down the odd feeling swelling in his belly. “I want answers today! Why don’t you people laugh at my jokes? Why don’t you pay attention to me? I’m clever and witty, get along with the ladies, plenty of money and power to go around…” he was out of breath. Red in the face and shaking, he spun on his heels.

The crowd looked on and waited for more attacks. No response.

“What is it? Why don’t you guys like me?! I do everything! I could…I could give this kid right here,” exasperated, Dahm pointed at a brown skinned young man who was chained behind his throne then dragged him forward to be seen, “$100,000 and change his life! And you guys would say, ‘Oh he should have picked himself up by his boot straps’. Or, ‘You should have given him more’.

The messy king continued, “But I just re-name a body of water and you guys are like ‘waw waw change it back!’.” He stood eye to eye with a short fat lipped woman with smeared red lipstick from her lips to cheeks.

“I could cure AIDS with my hands and you guys would complain “don’t touch me there” or, ‘If you cure those ones, you’ll become gay.” He spat.

The crowd watched unimpressed. Dahm looked up at them.

He had shrunk into the smallest person in the room.

The crowd dispersed.

Dahm woke up from his nightmare, in a cold sweat.

He desired a cheeseburger to calm him.