The Jesters Who Became Kings

Two men enter a bar, sit by the balcony, where the bartender, a smiley fellow with a funny mustache, is washing a glass. One of the men looks tired, and the other yawns.

One of them was tall and skinny, looked like a crane, wore a jacket and jeans pants whilst the other had sideburns and a distinctive buzz cut, he wore important clothes, almost looking like a colonel, but having the disadvantage of not being taller than five feet.

The bartender recognizes the two patrons:

“Why, who do we meet here?” he laughs. “You guys sure had a party.”

“Too much for my taste,” the crane-man says, yawning.

“Then I know I shouldn’t be asking this,” the bartender proceeded, almost sympathetic. “But what would the two fellas wanna drink?”

“Two soda pops, please,” the small one rumbles.

“At least they want to get clean…” the waiter thinks.

“Oh, chief, allow me to ask, do you offer a discount for kings?” the crane-man questions.

We are a bit delayed, let’s rewind it to the very beginning, at the land of missed potential: two weeks ago in Brazil.

The taller one’s name is Rodney, and the smaller one is called William. They were both in their mid-twenties and halfway through college in São Paulo. They thought the stories about it were mere drama; the course’s routine was a killer. Both could still brag to their classmates, though, since they could manage to sleep more than five hours. Sadly, as many colleagues did, they preferred the easy way to cope with this routine’s stress: drugs. It started with an idea by Rodney.

While William looked for apartments to rent with the salary from retail work, Rodney was looking for drugs that don’t cause addiction too much and don’t result in (too many) health issues. Search goes on, until Rodney finds an obscure variation of LSD, with longer-lasting effects and carefully crafted to not attack the body as much as normal LSD.

“Still wasting time with that?” William exclaimed.

“Knock it off, Bill!” Rodney defended himself. “You also wanted to try it out.”

“Yes, but the landlord is almost kicking us both out if the rent is overdue,” William rolled his eyes. “Priorities, priorities.”

William typed something on the computer and showed his friend some kitchenettes for reasonable prices.

“I found two options that we could share rent and still leave a good amount to go to the movies or a party once a week,” William smiled.

“If anything, we can just pack our stuff and live in the woods, like those Indians on the internet,” Rodney laughed and patted his friend on the back. “We have all the land we need.”

“I looked it up, almost a sixth of our country is no man’s land by technicality, so we have plenty of options,” William mocked his friend. “Options, options, options…”

“Hey, let’s forget this for a while and relax a little,” Rodney spoke like a good Samaritan. “One dose, five-minute trip.”

William pondered, but Rodney’s friendly hand at this moment of high pressure seemed like salvation.

“Alright, one and then we’re done,” William finally said.

Man, what a headache… They didn’t recall anything; they only remembered dreaming with pink elephants, leaving home running, and falling asleep. William’s eyes were heavy. He could only hear his lungs expanding and deflating. Until he heard:

“Morning, hello, Majesty, wake up!”

“What…” William’s weakened voice replied.

He opened his eyes, and there was an old man with formal clothing and a thin mustache staring at him.

“Pennyworth?” William mumbled.

“How do you like your eggs, Majesty?” the majordomo asked.

“Scrambled,” Rodney woke up and mumbled.

“Good morning to you, too, Majesty.”

“What’s with this ‘Majesty’ gimmick?” William shook his face and complained. “Who even are you, Jeeves man?”

“I am your majordomo, and my name is Jeeves. You ordered me to call you that,” Jeeves maintained his serious posture.

“Did I…” William said, looking around; he was in a resting room, but more formal than usual. “Jeeves, what is this place?”

“You really don’t remember, huh?” Jeeves smiled. “It seemed like you were kind of disturbed, but you guys turned it around very well.”

“What are you babbling about? What part of Brazil is this, anyway?” Rodney asked, looking at the window and seeing nothing outside except for forestation.

“Why, the part you are taking care of, King Lion I and King Pole Pilate,” Jeeves winked at William and Rodney, respectively.

“What…?” Rodney, or better yet, King Pole Pilate mumbled, scratching his head.

“Rodney!” William, or better yet, King Lion I called, pointing outside another window.

Pole Pilate went there and saw a weird flag waving outside the building. In it, there was a vertically put narrow red diamond shape with a vertical white line cutting it in half, all of it on a green background.

“What’s with the flag?” King Lion I exclaimed.

“You drew it,” Pole Pilate replied, showing him a notebook with his signature and a few sketches of the flag.

They saw the building, which seemed like a city hall. There was a sign sculpted in marble saying “Prefeitura de Cáceres”. It meant, in Brazilian locations, they were at least one thousand seven hundred kilometers away from home.

“How did we get here…” Pole Pilate pondered loudly.

“I don’t know, but now Fritola needs its leaders ready,” Jeeves peeked.

“Who?”

“Oh, Fritola, your kingdom!” Jeeves laughed.

“Kingdom…?” King Lion I stuttered.

“You announced that our city fits into your new decree. By buying no man’s land in these parts, you included this and eighteen more cities in your territory: the Kingdom of Fritola. It was received gleefully, because Brazil was just not doing it for any of us,” Jeeves explained, then giggled. “Fritola, heh, funny…”

Unbelievable, they were reigning over a million people. News was breaking that a new country was forming in Brazil.

“Get dressed, today the Majesties will receive the first official meeting with someone important,” Jeeves conducted the two young men through the building.

“Who?” Pole Pilate asked.

“The Brazilian president, of course. You really need to suit yourselves, after two weeks of la vida loca and a twelve-hour nap.”

They didn’t really like Brazil’s president, especially William, who spoke very ill of him online. Joke's on him, for now William is Your Highness. After due preparations, they were suited with a king’s clothes, gladly borrowed from an imperial museum (look it up, Brazil was an empire for sixty-seven years).

“No pressure, but the leaders of G7 will arrive in three days,” Jeeves said slyly.

“What?!” Both kings screamed.

“Show time!” Jeeves bubbled, almost pushing the two kings through the door.

Upon leaving, the young kings faced a crowd of 10,000 people in the streets to greet the imperial party. They cheered for the revolutionaries who brought independence peacefully. A long red carpet was set. A fanfare started playing with an angelic choir of children following. It seemed like their national anthem, but they also recognized it as a tune they had heard in their childhood. Pole Pilate was whistling it along while King Lion I mumbled, both almost forgetting they were kings.

An hour later, a long car shows up with the Brazilian president leaving it. He was smiling; however, some people in the crowd looked at him with the same smile you greet a criminal. There were nasty bar fights in the region because of the last elections. The president still greeted them.

“Good day to the Majesties,” the president smiled. “I hope the new country is doing well.”

“Very nicely as of now, Your Honor,” Pole Pilate laughed nervously. “Even though we almost don’t know how we got here.”

“You do know, Rodney,” King Lion I growled at his co-leader and then turned a fake smile to the guest. “Well, comrade, come in, we have a lot to talk about.”

“Do we?” Pole Pilate questioned.

“We do,” the Brazilian president got rid of his silly smile and firmed his voice.

“We do?” King Lion I’s eyes widened.

Next, they were sitting together at a round table by the royal office. Facing them, the Brazilian president was not happy.

“Well,” the guest joined hands and sounded reasonable. “Independent at last. I’ll admit that, in that video call, you sounded convincing, but I also had taken a few drinks and didn’t take it seriously. But alas, here we are. How’s king’s business going?”

“I guess there’s no way back,” Pole Pilate deflated in his chair.

“Now that the G7 leaders are coming?” The Brazilian president giggled. “Are you really going to let them down?”

“Shoot, there’s also that…” King Lion I facepalmed himself. “Surely they will have one thing to bring up.”

“Amazon,” Pole Pilate and the Brazilian president said at the same time.

“Yes, the Amazon,” King Lion I sighed. “And they will bother us about it. How do we get rid of them?”

“The Brazilian part of the Amazon I can take care of,” the Brazilian president said, tapping his fingers on the table. “As for you, it’s your problem.”

“You can’t even give us some mentorship?” Pole Pilate begged.

“Do you want to give the image of independence that G7 heard of you two or to be seen as your old country’s doormat? Not bad at all for me, on the other hand, for your public image…”

A plane roared with its motors in the distance. The three of them looked outside.

“I know that model,” the Brazilian president laughed.

“Some quick advice before the meeting?” King Lion I asked.

“Be calm and natural, but still firm,” there was a tone of compassion in the president’s voice. “If you give up on this ‘new country’ thing and don’t want to be ridiculed by the media, call me, and I’ll pretend it was an elaborate marketing gig for a new comedy movie.”

The plane landed in the distance.

“Apart from that, it’s your problem,” the Brazilian president smiled after leaving.

The two of them stood quietly in the room.

“Is it too late for a plan C?” Pole Pilate asked his friend.

“Hide in the closet and play dumb?” King Lion I recalled to be sure.

A while after recomposing, the two kings were standing in front of their royal palace, where a cheering and clapping crowd was surrounding them. The two kings forged their best smiles while, from different cars, seven people in formal clothes walked to them; the leaders of G7: Germany, Canada, the USA, France, Italy, Japan and the United Kingdom. They swallowed hard. After all, standing in front of the leaders of the seven most powerful countries in the world is not a small feat.

“Before anything, let me just say that I’m really, really sorry for all this,” Pole Pilate whispered in King Lion I’s ear. “It’s all my fault, I shouldn’t have looked up drugs.”

“I always brag about being the voice of reason, I should be blamed for letting the guard down for an obvious problem. I really let you down,” King Lion I whispered back. “But if we are going to play the ‘try and put yourself lower’ game, let’s both assume we were idiots. My memory is sort of coming back, and I made almost all the decisions until now after the trip started. All you did was show that drug to me.”

“Agree to never use that again?”

“Not that, not any.”

“Not even coffee?”

“Don’t force it.”

“Excuse me?” A low, snotty voice called.

The two kings turned and saw the G7 leaders looking at them, especially the German chancellor who called them. They also had pathetically forged smiles. The two kings greeted them.

“So, independent, eh?” The American president smiled.

“Absolutely,” King Lion I confirmed. “So, let’s come in and solve some issues, such as…”

“The Amazon,” the Italian Prime Minister interrupted.

“Yes, maybe,” Pole Pilate smiled with a cold sweat before turning to his buddy and whispering: “What do we do?”

“We’ve gotta make ‘em give up on the Amazon idea,” King Lion I whispered back. “But how? If Fritola doesn’t work out, they will try in Brazil; either way, we’ll be living in a place where these bozos will peek in.”

After pondering a lot, while guiding the G7 leader into the building, Pole Pilate stopped:

“I know!”

“What is it?” King Lion I’s eyes were shining in hope, so he slowed down until both were last in line.

“Wait and see…” Pole Pilate winked and kept walking. “Fritola’s Amazon they want, Fritola’s Amazon, and only Fritola’s, they get.”

“This is gonna be either really good or really bad…” King Lion I thought.

The time of truth came. The kings of Fritola and the leaders of G7 were sitting at the same table. Awkward silence. Jeeves served everybody water. Even water droplets were heard. The British Prime Minister broke the silence:

“So, about Amazon…”

“Take everything,” Pole Pilate interrupted.

“What?!” King Lion I and the leaders exclaimed in unison.

“Yes, you heard me, all you want as you please, with a small list of conditions,” Pole Pilate smiled, joining hands.

“Proceed…” The French president leaned forward.

“It’s not long ago we dismembered from Brazil,” Pole Pilate did his best to sound convincing. “We accepted each other’s terms peacefully, so we are good allies. Because of this, we do not want you to interfere in the Amazon, not only Brazilian but also belonging to other Latin American nations, with whom we are starting to develop friendly relationships. No evasive reunions nor sanctions, under any circumstance,” he emphasized the “any” part.

“What about the other countries from BRICS?” The Japanese Prime Minister asked.

“Our relationships with them were not formally begun, so I don’t know,” Pole Pilate thought and smiled.

The seven leaders came closer to each other and discussed the idea.

“What are you doing? Are you sure about this?” King Lion I whispered to his friend.

“For the first time in forever, I’m seeing all the consequences, including one where we are captured by the FBI and die alone in a dark room,” Pole Pilate replied. “You gotta trust me in this one.”

King Lion I thought and smiled. The seven leaders finished discussing.

“So, what would we get in exchange?” The Canadian Prime Minister questioned.

“All the Amazon rainforest that is under our command, at your will,” Pole Pilate pointed at the window, where a huge forest could be seen.

Well, the Fritola’s area was not small, so they shook hands and posed for pictures. The leaders stayed in the kingdom for three days and then left. As the plane took off, the kings called the Brazilian president.

“Your honor,” King Lion I began. “My friend had a great idea to get rid of G7, and it’s time for part two of the plan.”

After explaining what happened and part two of the plan, the Brazilian president agreed and wished the best of luck to the kings. Afterward, he called one of his assistants to make a call. Two days later, international news was bombarding, for the Kingdom of Fritola rejoined Brazil as quickly as it had separated.

After the new country was annexed back into Brazil, Pole Pilate and King Lion I straight up disappeared, never to be seen again in the region. This made the arrival of the G7 countries' representatives more confusing, now that the region was under Brazil’s administration, which should not be interfered with. The same deal they signed on the first visit said that the deal could not be broken under any circumstance; they wouldn’t count that the country being deleted counted legally as a circumstance, so they left the old territory of the Kingdom of Fritola looking like fools, never to interfere in the Amazon again.

Back to the present, Rodney and William were happily drinking their soda pops, swearing to stop with the drugs, just as quickly as they started. They got new haircuts to avoid being recognized as the leaders of the deceased nation. At the bar’s TV, a trailer for a comedy movie was playing, about a guy getting drunk and making a portion of Brazil independent.

“If this movie makes less than ten million at the box office, I’ll literally breathe air,” William whispered.

“Chill, man, marketing will help with this,” Rodney smiled back. “By the way, can I ask you something?”

“Hm?”

“So, Mr. Ideas Man, why did you put a vagina in the country’s flag?”