“When O.W.L. Goes Wrong”
A Mad Mona, Monarch of Madonia Short Story
by Rachael Ritchey
I could feel my muscles cramping up in the cringe pinching my face. “Doyle, do this. Doyle, do that,” ran through my brain while my monarch prodded me with the flat of her hand.
“Majesty,” I said, not carrying how much it sounded liked a moan, “is this really necessary?”
Mad Mona (as I called her in my head and NEVER out loud) harumphed and pushed my shoulder again. “It’ll be worth it to see the looks on their faces.” The mincing queen of Madonia rubbed her palms together. “Now, stop diddy-daddling* and get this O.W.L. going!”
I stretched once more with my hands pressed into my lower back and supressed a groan before bending forward to screw in the last bolt.
“Very good, Doyle! You might make a proper mechanic yet!”
My monarch placed her foot on the end of the attached board and pressed it down. With the gravest of expressions, she placed both feet on its slanted surface and bent her knees in a fake jumping motion several times . . .
“For good measure,” she explained with a solid nod. “Very good. Very good. Now, where is Cook?”
Mad Mona glanced around until she found Cook Burgundy hiding his bulk behind me where the smell of waffles drifted from a folding table set up in front of the doors leading off the balcony.
“Majesty?” Hesitating, I glanced at the gathered nobles in the garden below the balcony. “Somehow I don’t think your guests will appreciate this . . . extravagance.”
“Nonsense, Doyle! Everyone enjoys waffles at a garden party!”
“Cook,” she said, pressing my raised hand down and stepping around me, “are they ready?”
With a deep sigh, Cook Burgundy said, “Yes, Majesty, but–“
“Very good! Place them on that lower end there, near the table. And, Doyle, where is that chair?”
She swept the chair from my hands, nearly knocking me over in the process, but I endured. What choice did I have? If something happened to the monarch of Madonia, or heaven forbid she was displeased, my head would be the first on the chopping block. I rubbed my throat at the thought.
Cook placed the perfect stack of 20 extra-large waffles on the lowered end of the lever and stepped back through the doorway. I rolled my eyes at his timidity while he peeked around the frame in worried expectation. Coward.
“Help me up, help me up,” Mad Mona said, waving her arms at me.
With one last self-indulgent sigh, I handed my queen up on to her chair where she promptly waved to her guests.
“Yoohoo! Lovelies! I have a suprise. I have created the Official Waffle Lever for our party entertainment and to deliver my favorite snack!”
The people milling about below whispered behind their hands, many looking quizzical if not downright confused. I had a sudden urge to duck out of sight and hide any proof of my involvement in this preposterous activity.
“One,” Mona said, swinging her arms, “two . . . three!” She jumped off the chair, her feet meeting the raised arm of the lever.
A unified gasp arose from the party below.
I fought the urge to close my eyes and lost. With a thundering thump, a clatter of chair and lever, and the random splatter of waffles landing nearby, I finally dared open my eyes only to be greeted by the raucous laughter of Mad Mona . . . covered in waffles.
Half sitting, half sprawled across the lever, Mad Mona picked up a waffle off her head, examined it and with a shrug of her shoulders, took a bite.
“Well, that was a hoot!”
I hope you enjoyed Mad Mona and Doyle! Every once in a while I have to write something for Mona and Doyle because they are some of my daughter’s favorite characters I’ve written. She begs for new Mona stories any time anything reminds her of this mischievous monarch’s shenanigans!
Check out more #BlogBattle stories for the April prompt of OWL at BBPrompt.com
If you want more Mad Mona, here she is . . .
* see converastion in comments with Cathleen Townsend for explanation of why I chose to use this “incorrect” version of dillydallying. 🙂