The Incredible Journey of Pete McGee Read Free Page A

the spot, or jailed for treason, or beheaded, or maybe something even worse. But for some reason, Faydon had fired him and banished him from the kingdom, and that was it. Not too bad at all. He did stay to hear the speech though, and it was with great surprise that when he heard the King start talking it was the original speech, word for word.
    â€˜Loyal subjects, it is I, King Cyril the 23rd, here to open this celebration of my reign.’
    The crowd cheered, mainly because guards had threatened the townsfolk that they must cheer or they’d be poked by the pikes that were pointed menacingly at them. Pete giggled at King Cyril the Dorky’s name and found himself a spot where he wouldn’t be seen, or poked, and refused to cheer one word. King Cyril the Attention-Lover, taken aback by the wild response to his opening statement, read on, totally unaware of what he was saying.
    â€˜Although without me you would be nothing, it is because of you that I am the greatest (threatened poke, cheer), most incredibly fabulous (poke, ROAR!), unbelievably large pea-brain there ever was (thunderous applause, no poke required).’
    The King beamed with pride, the cheers blocking out the tiny voice in his head that suggested stopping talking may be a good idea. So he continued on, while in another room the ex-speechwriter fell to the floor laughing.
    â€˜Yes people, my brain is a pea. Do you know that sometimes I like to dance around the Throne Room wearing nothing but the royal slippers? Which are in the form of little moo cows? And I sing “Hey diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle”?’
    The crowd erupted into roars of laughter, and even Pete McGee was cheering.
    â€˜Royal subjects, I truly believe that if my butt was a balloon I would fly to the moon with a hairy baboon.’
    The crowd were yelling themselves hoarse. The King, wanting more and more adoration, raised his voice, building to the mighty finish of his speech.
    â€˜Just the other day, after drinking my bottle of warm milk, I took a bubble bath. My, I sank under the water and my cares floated away in bubbles of love. I realised right then that if my spew was blue I’d make a stew, so without further ado, and before my head turns back into a pumpkin, LET THE FESTIVITIES BEGIN!’
    The pokers may as well have gone home, for the crowd cheered long and loud. King Cyril the Blind-to-the-Truth raised his arms in triumph and the crowd cheered even louder. Believing this to be the greatest moment of his reign, the King returned inside as the crowd began a Mexican wave. Along with the rest, Pete leapt in the air when the wave reached him.

ing Cyril the Astounded entered his chambers. His anger over the unavailability of Sir Clancy had all but disappeared. Never before had he received such an ovation from his people, but then he had not become King by entirely honest means. He was merely a distant relative of the royal family, but when the time was right and a new ruler was needed, money had changed hands, the right people were disgraced and the crown was his. It had been for five years now.
    He hadn’t been known before his reign had begun, and it often felt as though he had to earn the trust of the peasants he ruled. Oh how he hated them, believing them to be dirty, smelly, less than human, below him and his nobles. But he was a king, and he not only wanted to be a feared king, but a loved and admired one as well. He stood in front of the mirror, chest swelled out with pride, and winked at himself. What a handsome devil he was!
    â€˜Yes you, that’s right. You are a handsome man. Oh yes you are. Yes. You. The one in the crown.’
    After the success of his speech, King Cyril the Big-Head was certain that he would find the Wilderene Flower. He hadn’t believed his ears when he had first heard the story. He had dressed as a commoner and gone to the local pub, wanting to hear all the great things that everyone surely said about