This week #BlogBattle Week 8 Theme: Madness
Next Week’s Theme: Bun 😉 Click here to find out how to join in!
Mad Mona, Her Majesty of Madonia
No one likes a complainer. Not even me. But today I feel like complaining. I can’t take much more of this! Her Majesty is off her rocker, and somehow I got stuck keeping her out of trouble. What a joke!
“Your Highness, I don’t think this is the best plan.” I hear the whine in my voice, but after six hours of corralling a queen, I think it’s allowable.
“Nonsense, Doyle. This is the best plan I’ve had all day. Now do hold my skirt back right there.” Her matter-of-fact tone hides the madness within. “No, no, you nincompoop. Hold it up and back. I cannot see my feet upon this skinny board. You can run, can’t you, Doyle?”
Her helmet looks askew, but she doesn’t seem to care. I care. If she dies of a brain injury, I’ll be the one they blame. Mine is on as tight as possible. I think I might have cut off all circulation to my brain. Maybe I’m going just as mad as Her Majesty.
“Doyle, wake up!” she cries in exasperated insanity.
“Sorry, Your Majesty. I’m not as fast as I used to be, but since my life depends on it as much as yours, I’ll be quick-footed.”
Her Cheshire Cat grin is more than I can bear. Maybe dying in the chase will be better for me than going insane. The queen’s cackle of a laugh is the only indication her madness runs deeper than a skateboard ride down the main garden’s sloping path.
“Give us a push, Doyle.”
“Highness, may I just suggest–“
“No, Doyle, you may not suggest. Now, push,” she says, emphasizing the last word with a squinty glare.
My sigh can be heard a mile away, but there’s nothing for it. I’m bound to obey. If not, my head will roll down this hill all by itself. I’m resigned to the inevitable fate of death later, but not right now, so I give her a push and chase the mad majesty down the hill. I almost keep up with her, but I lag behind.
She’s definitely gone crazy, but watching her pull away from me because I can’t keep up, I’m too old, I’m actually impressed by her stability on that rickety thing called a skateboard. Who knew?
My lungs are done and my hands like resting on my knees better than flapping in the breeze, so I stop and watch Mad Mona, Her Majesty of Madonia, glide down the walk as though she’d done this a thousand times before.
“Your Highness,” I call out too late.
Oh dear, I think, now I’ve done it. We didn’t think of brakes, but at least the fountain was there to stop her. I’m actually trying to cover a laugh now. Nothing is funnier than a mad monarch with her skirts about her ears, sopping wet in a pond, complete with a lily pad hat to finish the look.
At least it seems we’ll both live to see another crazy day!
Click here for more from Mad Mona in Mad Mona’s Monkey Business
2015 Copyright Rachael Ritchey, All Rights Reserved
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