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Cowboys and Wizards

S01E10 - Dreamworld III

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I’m 99% certain that everyone here is just me wearing a mask, so I shrugged and followed Woodhouse out of the bedroom and into the rest of my subconscious.

Five minutes later I was on the ground floor and seated on a shabby throne with the cast of a popular —and probably very copyright protected— animation in front of me. Woodhouse was the head butler and my personal manservant. Pam was the cook and demanded that I start importing sugar and alcohol before she was shushed by Woodhouse. Carol was a maid. Krieger was chancellor and Cyril was the steward. Archer and Lana were in charge of security. Ray was the marshal in charge of everything from the stables to the blacksmith.

I stared in disbelief at the motley crew kneeling in front of me. No wonder my inner mind was in such shambles. I was overcome with an irrational sense of anger at myself.

“Arright, listen up,” I barked, my voice echoing around the room. “I swear to God that I will kill every single one of you bitches and hire circus clowns to replace you if you fuck things up. No joke. Circus clowns, got it?”

I ran a hand over my face as Ray pissed himself. “The only reason I’m not putting a bullet in your skulls right now is because I realise that you’re aspects of me, and the people you represent are pretty damn good at their jobs when they give enough of a shit to actually do them. As a team, you’re dysfunctionally fantastic and always seem to come out ahead no matter the odds.”

Heaving a sigh, I continued. “Things have changed and I need to get my shit together. I’m going to need every one of you to pull your weight and help me help you. Get back to your duties, I’ll meet you one on one later.”

My subconscious caretakers scurried out of the room.

“I’ll have one of the maids tend to the piss,” Woodhouse assured me.

“Never mind that,” I snapped. “I honestly had no idea my mind was such a shit show. I’m very disappointed in myself.” I pictured the Angry, Sad, and Disgusted counters on my personal movies clicking up. “Show me what needs to be done and let’s get started.”

*****

During Woodhouse’s walking tour, everything clicked into place. This was some altered version of Bodiam castle, a location that was on my bucket list of places to visit. The royal council room, located behind the throne room, contained a “living” tapestry on the wall that showed the castle and surrounding land. The castle was located in the middle of a small lake, and a single wood bridge led to the mainland. A small town surrounded the lake and a wall encircled the town. Outside the wall, the land was an irregular patchwork of forest and field, with a stinking swamp to the south. The entire “kingdom” was maybe ten miles across, surrounded by impassable mountains and innumerable creeks fed the lake which drained into the swamp.

“Zombies are the problem, sir.” Woodhouse said, as I surveyed the living tapestry of my mental domain.

“Zombies?” I prompted.

“Yes sir, Zombies” Woodhouse continued. “Nasty bitey things that come in from the mountains and harass the peasants. They’ve gotten especially worse over the last few months. The soldiers do what they can, but they seem to have lost all motivation. Probably because they haven’t been paid.”

“And who pays them?”

“Typically chancellor Krieger is in charge of financial matters, although Steward Figgis has taken over the duty, sir.”

“Then let’s make Figgis our first stop.”

“Very good, sir.”

The office of the steward was run by Cyril, who managed the kingdom in my absence. It was overflowing with paperwork and charts, books and scrolls piled high on every flat surface. Cyril was desperately attempting to tidy things when Woodhouse and I walked in.

“Yo..you..your majesty,” Cyril stuttered, bowing low. Scrolls fell from his overloaded arms, spilling across the floor. He dropped to his knees and scrambled to gather them up. “I didn’t expect you to visit so soon. Please forgive the mess, housekeeping has been slacking…”

This was the guy who ran things while I was conscious.

“Shut up, Cyril” I said. “You’re responsible for everything in this office. That includes keeping it organised and tidy.”

“Y..yes milord.”

“It’s my understanding that you’re in charge of making sure everyone gets paid. So why aren’t we paying people?” I asked.

“We’re nearly out of Fuks, your majesty. I’ve been saving them for emergencies.”

“Fucks?”

“Fuks,” Cyril explained, pushing a pile of books off a large chest and opening it. Reaching inside he pulled out two small bags and emptied them on top of his cluttered desk. “Gold and Silver Fuks, the currency of the kingdom. I can’t maintain the kingdom when I have no Fuks to give.”

Behold the subconscious kingdom of Vincent Carter, it runs on Fuks.

“So how do I get more fuks?” I asked, examining one of the coins. It had an image of me on one side and symbol on the other that could be interpreted as “peace among worlds”.

“You kill the zombies, your majesty.”

Of course I do.

*****

Woodhouse and I left Cyril’s office and headed towards the office of the chancellor where Krieger worked. It seemed that Cyril took over financial matters when Krieger became erratic and proposed luring all the zombies into the city and setting it on fire. Not sure how that corresponds to my own self-destructive behaviour, but I’ve had some dark thoughts over the last couple of months and I’m sure they’re reflected here.

Krieger’s office was much neater in comparison to Cyril’s, but it wasn’t by much. Shelves lined the walls and were filled with an array of questionable items, including a zombie head floating in a jar. It licked the glass when I made eye contact. While the office of the chancellor was supposed to be in charge of financial matters, it looked more like a dodgy rummage sale.

Krieger was launching sword blades at a pig carcass when we walked in.

“What exactly are you doing?” I asked, standing in the doorway.

“Hm? Oh, your majesty!” he said, turning around. “I’m testing a new invention. It’s a spring loaded hilt that shoots sword blades. Very useful for our soldiers.”

“Stupidest idea ever,” I snapped. “I hate everything about it.”

“Okay,” Krieger said, tossing the hilt into a nearby pile of junk. “But don’t blame me when you need to shoot a sword at a zombie and don’t have one.”

“So why aren’t you managing the financial affairs? Collecting taxes, paying people, stuff like that?”

“Because the population has declined so much none of that matters?”

“What do you mean?”

“Wellll, the population represents things you care about,” Krieger said, going into lecture mode. “And the zombies are real or imagined problems in your way. Since you don’t care about too many things the population has shrunk to just what’s needed to keep everything running on the bare minimum of fuks. And since you don’t seem to have any long or short term goals, there’s no need to kill off the zombies and get more fuks. Everything is fine just the way it is.”

“No, it’s not Krieger” I said, grinding my teeth. “My mind is in a shambles. It’s a joke. I want it fixed. No, I want it better than fixed. I want it improved.”

“Oh! I’ve got just the thing for that!” he said, rooting around in a pile of junk. “It’s a spring-loaded hilt that shoots swords!”

*****

Pam and Cheryl were hanging out a gallery window cheering at Archer and Lana sparring in the inner courtyard.

“What the hell are you doing!” I snapped

They whirled in surprise and then dropped to deep curtseys.

“Your majesty!”

I took a deep breath, trying to regain my centre. “Get to work cleaning this place up. Find a room, clean it, and move on to the next. Start with my bedroom, then the throne room and the council chamber, then everything else.”

Cheryl spoke up. “Can’t do it. We got no fuks to clean with.”

“You need fuks to clean?”

“Gotta buy stuff,” Pam drawled. “Cleaning supplies, food. You wanna eat, you’re gonna have to give some fuks.”

“Talk to Cyril,” I ordered. “Tell him I said to get you supplied.”

They ran off in the direction of the stewards office.

I watched Archer and Lana bashing each other enthusiastically through the window.

-= NOTES =-

[CAST]

Vincent J. Carter

Horse

[PLACES]

Inner sanctum

Dreamworld

Subconscious

Master bedroom

Throne room

Cyril’s office

Kreiger’s office

Inner Courtyard

[PEOPLE]

[OTHERS]

Woodhouse

Archer

Lana

Carol

Pam

Ray

Cyril

Kreiger

-=- PERSONAL -=-

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