The Showdown

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The Showdown


110011 01 r05.pngEzelith: The grimoire section of the library here is SO lame. I read everything in a day! There has to be a decent book somewhe... Ugh. Here comes the pompous buffoon.

110022 01 r05.pngXander: Ha HA! Another splendid day of peace and obeisance throughout my castle. The help are smiling their charming, commoner smiles, and all is as it sho... Ugh, it's that swaggering ninny.

110011 01 r05.pngEzelith: Hey! Make room for a genius here!

110022 01 r05.pngXander: It is YOU who will make way, serf! A king does not step aside for the help. It simply is not done.

110011 01 r05.pngEzelith: There's only one ruler in this castle, bub, and he ain't you. Now take your puffed-up airs and move 'em two feet to the left!

100004 01 r04.pngCleo: If you're going to squabble, do it outside.

110022 01 r05.pngXander: This is hardly a squabble. I'm simply educating this woman about her proper social station.

110011 01 r05.pngEzelith: Oh yeah? So what's the social station for "used to be a king before his own people threw him out"?

110022 01 r05.pngXander: How DARE you?! I was willing to let you off with a stern warning given your obvious lack of proper boarding-school education, but this insult will not stand! I know you have named yourself as some manner of "genius," but no amount of bookish learning can change your birth. You, madam, shall always be common!

110011 01 r05.pngEzelith: Rrrr...

110022 01 r05.pngXander: Grrr...

100004 01 r04.pngCleo: You two are a perfect match. If your egos were any larger, they wouldn't fit inside your bodies. Shall we settle the pecking order for good? Would that put an end to this idiocy?

110022 01 r05.pngXander: A brilliant idea! ...Especially considering it comes from one of my lesser vassals.

110011 01 r05.pngEzelith: You're on! One spell, and I'll have you fried to a crisp!

100004 01 r04.pngCleo: No violence. We keep this peaceful. I will choose the contest, and I alone will judge the victor. Is that acceptable?

110011 01 r05.pngEzelith: Fine! There isn't a competition in the world this stuffed shirt could beat me at.

110022 01 r05.pngXander: I accept your terms as well, good woman, for a king fears no challenge!

100004 01 r04.pngCleo: Then we're agreed. Now, let's take this to a more fitting venue. Now then. The event I've selected is... Laundry. Whoever gets their pile cleaner faster wins.

110011 01 r05.pngEzelith: What?! Doing laundry isn't—

100004 01 r04.pngCleo: Three, two, one...begin.

110011 01 r05.pngEzelith: Hey! I'm talkin' here! LAUNDRY?! Is this some kind of joke?

100004 01 r04.pngCleo: The contest has already begun. Or do you forfeit?

110022 01 r05.pngXander: Ha HA! How terribly lowborn of you. It seems victory is already mine. Some genius, if a little bit of washing is enough to send you packing.

110011 01 r05.pngEzelith: Okay, I've heard enough from you two! I'm a genius at everything—stupid laundry included. Watch and be amazed! Washtub water, churn and spin. Help this genius girl to win!

100004 01 r04.pngCleo: Impressive. The force of the whirlpool is breaking up even the stubborn pottage stains, leaving behind a sparkling white.

110011 01 r05.pngEzelith: Now THAT'S how you do laundry. Let's see you try, Lord Tightbritches. I'll bet you've never washed your own clothes once in your life, you spoiled—

110022 01 r05.pngXander: Ah, but there you would be wrong. Behold the king of washing!

110011 01 r05.pngEzelith: That fluid motion... That technique... How the heck are you GOOD at this?!

100004 01 r04.pngCleo: Remarkable. It's like watching myself.

110022 01 r05.pngXander: Ha HA! Do you see now, churl? I told you a king fears no challenge! I have been living in exile ever since my vassals staged their coup. In my months of wandering, I've learned how to manage rather well on my own.

110011 01 r05.pngEzelith: How did you make THAT sound pompous?!

110022 01 r05.pngXander: That is my kingly aura you're finally detecting! ...Rather slow on the uptake, aren't you?

110011 01 r05.pngEzelith: Rgh... W-well, I was still faster! Judge! Who's the winner?!

100004 01 r04.pngCleo: A magnificent showing from both of you. I fear it's too close to call. We'll simply have to hold another contest and break the tie.

110022 01 r05.pngXander: I've other matters of state to attend to! ...But I suppose this must come first.

110011 01 r05.pngEzelith: Fine, whatever. What's next?!

100004 01 r04.pngCleo: Dusting. The armory is a pigsty.

110011 01 r05.pngEzelith: Oh, this is gonna be a piece of cake... Winds, sweep all these weapons neat. Hand this dolt a swift defeat!

100004 01 r04.pngCleo: Er, Ezelith?! Using wind magic will only kick up all the... ...dust? My goodness. The whirlwind trapped it all and blew it out the window.

110011 01 r05.pngEzelith: Leaving the armory spotless, I might add. There's nothing left to clean here! If that isn't a clear victory, I don't know what is.

110022 01 r05.pngXander: Ha HA! Oh, you poor, naive thing. The armory has been cleaned to perfection without me so much as lifting a finger. THIS is how a king dusts—by having his vassals and lackeys do it for him!

110011 01 r05.pngEzelith: Could your logic BE any more tortured?! Judge, back me up here!

100004 01 r04.pngCleo: You have a point about the torture... But you said yourself that it was logic. I'm afraid we have another tie.

110011 01 r05.pngEzelith: Okay, that is just STUP... Rrrrgh! Never mind. You'll just disqualify me if I complain. FINE. Next contest!

100004 01 r04.pngCleo: Next is a cooking showdown. Let's move to the kitchen and—

110022 01 r05.pngXander: Cooking, is it? An easy victory!

110011 01 r05.pngEzelith: In your dreams! I'm going to crush you like an egg filled with grapes filled with something else really crushable!

100004 01 r04.pngCleo: No running in the castle, you two! *sigh* They really are a perfect match... I wonder if they'll catch on before my chores are done?

110022 01 r05.pngXander: Enough dawdling, help! Come along!

110011 01 r05.pngEzelith: Yeah, we need you in the kitchen to judge!

100004 01 r04.pngCleo: All right, all right, I'm coming. It's a cooking contest, not a race.

Neither king nor genius sits at the top of the castle pecking order— It is—and always will be—Mom.