Ted Talk: Letters from the Bottom- Rung

Dear Sir Albert the Unbothered,

My name is Theodore Eugene Diclopodus, but my friends call me Ted. I’m the squire of the most infamous knight in all the land—infamous, that is, for all the wrong reasons. Sir Brutus of the Bottom-Rung has always been devoted to being feared and respected, but unfortunately, such aspirations rarely align with the reality of who he is. I’ve been his squire for most of my life, and when it comes to the avenues of knighthood and evil, he suffers from a remarkable ineptitude in both. I try my best to improve his reputation in many different ways, but good grief, when your knight is a klutz and about as scary as a floating butterfly, it becomes a losing battle.

I’m writing to you about this man because Sir Brutus and I are on our way to the “Order of Eternal Gloom” convention. He claims to have devised the grandest evil scheme any wicked knight could ever conceive. After much prodding, I managed to extract a summary of this so-called plan. And what is it, you ask? Oh, bother—it’s neither evil nor grand. He schemes to trick the King into signing a royal decree that everyone in the kingdom must, by any means necessary, take a bath daily. He believes this will undermine the King’s authority because, according to him, no one in the kingdom of BATHmore does this.

Here’s the kicker: if you’re wondering why I capitalized “BATH” in BATHmore, it’s because our kingdom is famous for actual hygiene. Sir Brutus seems to have forgotten that the reason he only bathes once a year is because he wanted to be a nefarious, wicked man who shirks the law of the land. Yes, this is the grand and dastardly plan of Sir Brutus of the Bottom-Rung! Once again, I find myself wondering on what grounds he—and by proxy, I—will be ridiculed this time around. Poor Sir Brutus tries so hard but fails so spectacularly.

Must I list the areas in which he stumbles so magnificently as an evil knight? Let’s see here—I keep notes on his misadventures at his own request, though I fear they’ll one day cause laughter rather than fear or respect. I have them organized by categories: Accidental Heroism, When Armor Fails, Flatulence and Friendly Fire, Mishaps with a Goose, The Kiss That Missed, A Princess Twist, and Mild Annoyances and Inconveniences. Each category is a list of its own!

For example, take the time he kissed the wrong “princess.” He had a plan to ruin the chances of the princess marrying a prince from a far-off land, thus sabotaging an alliance with the King. What he didn’t realize is that “princess” is a title, not a name. One of the King’s men—a burly fellow they say, is so manly even his forehead has a beard (an exaggeration, I’m sure)—is jokingly referred to as “Princess.” So, when Brutus overheard whispers about “Princess sleeping in the upper room,” he didn’t pause to think. He puckered up and marched straight into disaster.

He climbed one flight of stairs to the highest room in the guardhouse, saw “Princess” in a nightgown, and, believing it to be the actual princess, walked up, eyes shut, and kissed him full on the mouth. You can imagine the rage of the guard they called Princess. I took quite a beating for Sir Brutus that night while he fled with his cloak tucked between his legs. Needless to say, Sir Brutus became the talk of the castle after that.

This is just one of many escapades. At this point, I stay with him out of pity. The Order of Eternal Gloom has nicknamed him “Sir Brutus of the Bottom-Rung” because he will forever remain at the bottom of the corporate ladder of evil in Bathmore. They keep him around not for his villainy but for the comedic relief he brings. I overheard Sir Malcolm the Malevolent say that after the “Great Goose Attack” of 1263, they could no longer be rid of Brutus because he relieves tension within the group. This is common among evil knights, each vying for the top spot, but poor Sir Brutus can barely hold onto the bottom.

I’m telling you all this, my friend, because I find it both humorous and frustrating, and I’ve heard you’re great at giving advice on helping weary squires help their struggling knights. I await your reply with great hope in this hopeless situation.

Signed and ever tired,

Ted

13 Dastardly Lane

Kingdom of Bathmore

P.S. Sending this by unicorn is way faster than by horse.

Dear TED,

I am sorry that you are struggling with helping Sir Brutus with his evil knightly duties. It would seem the best approach for you to help ensure that he is neither inept nor a klutz is to present him with the easiest tasks imaginable.

I can remember helping one squire by the name Edward, who had a knight named Sir Franklin the Fat. This poor squire dealt with this knight's proclivities of both meat and mead and sought to help the man overcome the sins of gluttony. It had become so bad that the overweight knight could not even fit into his plate armor. So Edward sent me a letter requesting my assistance. I was able to help the fellow convince his knight of the wonders of jogging so that he may eat more. The man unwittingly lost most of his weight by running. He was able to still eat large portions, but he continued to lose weight. Thus, he was no longer Sir Franklin the Fat, but Sir Franklin the Fit.

So, in your frustrations and fight to help Sir Brutus gain notoriety, perhaps you must take a different approach. See, when you take beatings for Sir Brutus, you are enabling him to continue the worthless venture of the fool. You must do your best to point out to him to that which he can accomplish. I would urge you to instead turn his attention to robbing those who attempt to cross the Bathtub bridge into Bathmore. This is both evil and immoral. I am sure that he can easily achieve such a goal without messing up. Do please remember that if he cannot accomplish something as easy as this then he surely cannot be an evil force in this fair land of Bathmore.

Best regards to your endeavors,

Sir Albert the Unbothered

77 Sighworthy Street

Kingdom of Bathmore

P.S. Remember, the best way to accomplish something big is to start small.