A very casually dressed king – MK

– No problem. But there will be no dismemberment. Is the pan available?

– Lost weight. Sent for smelting. For pennies. Aluminum is cheap.

— Have you tried soldering it? Okay… Aluminum releases harmful oxides when heated. What about firewood?

– Where from, if the forest was destroyed?

– There is a significant advantage: a fire will not break out… Are the burners firing?

— We are not gasified.

“At least we won’t explode.” Are the kerosene stoves still there?

– They tore it down for scrap. Imprudent. All hope lies in you, a magician and sorcerer who can create manna out of nothing. Help me out. We’ll die of hunger.

— A fraction of the source material is desirable. What do you have?

– But you’re also without a top hat. We are not talking about the internal combustion engine; we are not rich in cars. A cylinder for extracting a hare from it. We would make it into a stew.

– One bunny is not enough for everyone. Here’s what we’ll do: first, pray…

– What will it give? God has long been abolished.

– First they canceled it, now they returned it.

– Better is a titmouse, that is, a cook in front of your eyes, than a crane, that is, God in heaven.

— God created the planet out of nothing. Let’s extract from prayers…

– A hare? We would have it raw… Equally.

-…energy. Transforming existence…

– A hare? Stomachs cramped.

The craftsman scratched the back of his head in confusion.

— How about creating a rabbit farm?

– While you grow up… We would like to do it right away.

“I don’t even know,” said the Craftsman cautiously, catching glances that alternately wander wildly and then concentrate on him. – I’ll go look for sorrel, nutritious roots…

But it was not possible to escape, the listeners made an excited noise:

– Why sorrel? Here it is, the original source material! Larger than a hare. What makes you think we’ll let you go?

Good nudity

The ruler spent a difficult night after the daring trick of an impudent kid: in the central square, in public, despite the festive pandemonium and entertainment rush, an unidentified (yet, but they are looking for him) brat shouted: “The king has no clothes!”

The monarch could not find a place for himself with indignation: “Why on earth did the bastard allow himself to do this? A brazen fool? Why did they screw it up and not counter it? Who exactly allowed it? Where were the guards and where were they looking? Neither ministers nor ordinary citizens stood up for their beloved shepherd, did not object, did not correct the bully – this is the main reason for grief and anxiety. Cut everyone’s (ministers’) salaries. Although already cut down. And it’s not about salaries! Morals are completely loose. School doesn’t educate. The parents left. By the way, we need to find out: who are they? From what layers? Warm up. Sand it. Carry out preventive work. Fine. Or even to municipal voluntary vigils… So that others are disgraced… Otherwise, everyone else will begin to be obscene and obscene, and the bastard himself will continue to spew false lies…

Indignation gave way to doubt and a thoughtful statement: maybe there are grounds for a disappointing attack? The king twirled in front of the mirror. Evaluated myself critically. Objectively. And he admitted: there is bold, partly excessive nudity. But is it so bad to show off in a leaky tights? The fashion and trend these days is extreme frankness. A significant plus is the shade of complete trust; such a position helps to warm contacts with the electorate. Look, subjects, gaze, discuss, gossip: your sovereign has nothing to hide. You are barefoot. Me too… Not in silks. At the same time, the dress (yes, transparent, ephemeral, almost non-existent, elegant muslin) still remains some kind of cover, a fig leaf of decency, a sign of healthy conservatism, a bold dress code and contains a transparent (meaningfully transparent) hint – of material undersecurity, but first all – to a broad interpretation of self-exposure: away with hypocrisy, puritanism! There is no need to be ashamed of what your mother gave birth to. All mothers give birth naked, therefore, initially, from the beginning, everyone is the same and equal, and since Spartan circumstances have developed, it is not appropriate to be ashamed of returning to the origins. Of course, not to the point of complete blatant negligee.

The monarch became emboldened and inspired: he would personally set an example and become a tuning fork of unhypocrisy. Shame the hecklers with his straightforward under-stocked wardrobe. Where to get it from, if nowhere? The daughter, the princess, rests on the pea! There is no time for feather beds and no time for tailcoats and shirtfronts when the budget for medicine and universal ten-year education has been cut.

And there is another underlying reason, not immediately discernible, but unconditional: with such lack of clothing, it is not ashamed, but logical, to cry out for help. Turn not to neighboring sovereigns, they will only grin and gloat, but to fellow tribesmen. Don’t worry, brothers and sisters, we’ll have to raise prices a little, raise taxes, and accelerate inflation. If you are naturally unselfish, if you want your leader to look decent, chip in, otherwise you will have to show even bigger holes.

A worthy concept of not only domestic but foreign policy was emerging – to cut it out on a cashmere coat for future foreign visits and pull it on the space program… Where to fuse the arrogant loudmouth with his father and mother in one bottle, that is, in a multi-seat rocket. Having rewarded in advance. For the heroic exploration of distant planets. Let them die there.

“Although why should he be rewarded and extolled? – thought the king. “I took an unconventional step—I wrapped myself in an unconventional way.” I need to be encouraged.”

And he wrote a decree.

The next day, the ceremony of awarding the Order of the Garter took place – logical from the point of view of clothing implications and palace etiquette. The satin ribbon looked like a bandage, like a sterile sling for the sick and crippled. The result was a multi-sense, syncretic-polyphonic event. The variable motivations coincided perfectly. An uplifting atmosphere of a combination of revelry and asceticism, pomp and modesty, pomp and lack of pretentiousness reigned. Rarely has anyone been so lucky with the ability to use an opportunity to increase all-encompassing happiness.

Guns and champagne corks were shooting.

Kolobok in a new way

Watermelon was becoming a relative of the Tiger.

– We are indistinguishable. I am a little greener, you are a little redder. Our main difference from the rest is our wonderful extravagant stripes.

The tiger had no time for empty chatter and demagoguery, he was fed by legs and fangs, not words, he did not attach excessive importance to external attributes (perhaps because he had a luxurious fur coat). Watermelon did not let up:

— Our royal, leading position in nature is predetermined by a symbolic pattern: the alternation of stripes embodies the contrast of light and darkness, day and night, dawn and sunset…

He interpreted the Tiger’s silence as an obvious sign of agreement! – in favor of his irrepressible rantings.

If he hadn’t screamed so heart-rendingly, he might have remained lying on his side and basking in the sun. The cheerful Zebra playfully made fun of the self-important belly:

– Why don’t you invite me to the family clan? Or Chipmunk? And Perch?

“Because the Tiger and I are connected by a special relationship, not superficial, not utilitarian mercantile, but deeply respectful, based on the principles of respect for mutual sovereignty,” answered Watermelon. – The tiger does not encroach on my independence, I will not attack him. We both respect the rights of personal inviolable space. And from you, treacherous, you don’t know what to expect: you’ll accidentally eat it, bite off a side, or bite the umbilical cord stalk…

“If I try to do something like that, your cousin, or whoever he is, will probably stand up for you,” Zebra mocked. – He’s as simple-minded as you…

Zebra was smart enough to stay away from the stern despot who lived outside the melon patch, and not to force himself on his nieces and sisters-in-law, for a predator would certainly use someone else’s stupidity for his own benefit, and for the fool’s evil. On the contrary, she avoided attracting attention and avoided risky alliances and rendezvous. Unlike Watermelon, she tried to remain modest and inconspicuous. She soberly and clearly assessed the background of any, including mutually beneficial family ties. And she crept closer and closer to the juicy feeding couch potato.

— Have you read about Kolobok? — the hoofed gourmet asked. — About the relationship between a dainty traveler and his grandmother, grandfather, and fox? You need to distance yourself from the strong, and not cling to them.

– Back off! – Watermelon squealed, his pompousness blown away like the wind. “I’ll call uncle, he will appear and fulfill his duty of mental and comradely mutual assistance!”

– I’m trembling with fear. And the anticipation of our merging with you, our indissoluble unity! — The zebra began to preliminarily lick the delicious braggart. – I’ll kiss you! You are a cutie, sweet. I am afraid that your protector, who does not pamper you with the tenderness of the Tiger, will not appreciate your merits and will not demonstrate the same genuine affection. Are you ready to carry out the act of brotherly-sisterly hot articulation and interpenetration?

With a grunt, she grabbed a bite of scarlet, oozing sugar pulp.

The tiger never learned about the tragic loss that befell him. And the melon crops concluded about the benefits of being well-read.