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Chapter Three

Of Ancient Greasepaint

Until the day I arrived at Thaliopolis, the city is never involved in any wars, so it has no need for an army. However, by the time I get there, a city guard has been formed, without anyone really knowing why. I know why. You want to know why?

Not long after the city is founded, Fred meets and marries a lovely woman who will brighten this story later. They have two sons. So the House of Fred is established. His elder son and heir is a quiet kid named Fred, Too. That is his name – Fred, Too. Everyone calls him Toody. The second son is named Not Fred, so everyone calls him Not or Knots, which is appropriate, since he is a complicated type.

Toody and Knots are like oil and water. Very different. And it is often the case with kids of a great funnymen, neither one could raise a laugh from a hyena if he dropped dead at its feet. Toody is this shy guy, and Knots never stops thinking and thinking.

Fred kicks the bucket just six months before I come on the scene. Laughs himself sick one day, then complications set in, you know how it goes. The funeral is quite a bash, laughing and crying, crying and laughing. The Pisser is the hit of the proceedings with his deeply felt lampoon of his lifelong traveling companion and client.

But the boys, both of whom are grown men by now, they don’t work out so good. Toody is completely shook, and no one can understand a word he says. Knots is dry-eyed, and delivers a strange speech with not one joke in it. Kind of irreligious under the circumstances. He calls for a change in the way things are done in the town. No one laughs, and people only applaud to be polite.

Shortly after this, Knots sets up the City Guard, the first armed force ever established in Thaliopolis. As brother to the Duke, he bullies a dozen guys into shouldering theses spears, dressing alike and marching around at all hours to no place in particular. Citizens of the town aren’t upset, since any such ridiculous behavior is regarded by then as highly religious.

I make my appearance right on the heels of a big moment in this whole scene. Knots persuades Toody that he ought to conduct an evening inspection of the new City Guard. The Pisser goes along with it, since it could give Toody a chance to score a nice laugh in a public place and really wow ‘em like his old man. People have been waiting for six months, after all, and are getting a little restless.

Another persuasive voice belongs to Calculotta, who has been city finance minister ever since she won a math whiz contest the Pisser set up a few years back. She was such a crackerjack that Fred make his financier his son’s fiancée. Like in Monopoly, said Fred at the engagement party, you no sooner get a House but you want a hotel. The wedding has been postponed indefinitely since Fred’s passing, and Calculotta figures the evening inspection could get things rolling again, matrimonially speaking.

This chorus of pushy voices pushes Toody into making ducal fool of himself. Pisistrato decks the new Duke out in one of his father’s favorite clown outfits, with red nose, big collar, balloon trousers and big hairy false feet.

“No act you can’t save with a funny hat,” says the Pisser, which is an axiom of show business.

Despite this, Toody is a terrible flop. Nobody laughs with him. A few people burst into tears remembering the old Duke. The only guffaw comes when a couple of the City Guard jokers do an old tripperoo routine and send Toody sprawling in the gravel. A few rude types think this is pretty funny. A few not so rude types, starved for a laugh, join in the dubious merriment. Toody is devastated and runs back to his rooms to feel miserable.

Right about this moment, I come hotdogging it out of the hills with some of our previously introduced Spartan pals right behind me.

“Open the gate! Open the gate!” (That’s me, of course.)

They open the gate, I rush in and collapse just inside the walls.

Knots’ spear chucking storm troopers manning the walls must take the Spartans by surprise, which is no surprise when you think of how tired they are. So, my pursuers don’t pursue me. They make camp on the hill overlooking the only road in and out of the town, settling down to wait for the rest of their bunch.

But I get no chance to settle down. In no time, I am hip deep in Thaliopolitans. They are firing a barrage of questions at me, and me, I’ve got to see the Duke ASAP.
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Ancient Greasepaint Copyright 1990 Louder Than a Lie Publications, LLC
and David Keith Johnson
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