A Fistul of Tannenbaum, Chapter 15: Knight on Fire

Editor's Note: Last chapter, Jed Foster was blown back through time, which is not a sexual euphemism. He landed in the time of King Arthur, 20 A.J.D., and was befriended by Sir Punkrock. But on the way to the castle, Jed produced a lighter and was accused of being a male witch. Now, prepare for the hitting of shit against the fan…

Jed was bound to a pole in the ground in the least enjoyable way. The heartless rabble, who only seconds before Jed was pitying, now piled kindling at Jed's feet, with complete disregard to his expensive shoes.

"You can't burn me as a witch, you fools!" shouted Jed. "I'm a werewolf!"

But his lie was to no avail, as the villagers thought he was talking in a strange dialect that sounded exactly like different words in English. The villagers were basically idiots.

"You told me not that you were a witch, Sir Gen-General!" said Sir Punkrock. He shook his head and clucked his tongue. A tinny echo came out of his knight's helmet. "What kind of king makes a witch a knight? Not the good kind, I'd bet."

"Listen, you fuck," growled Jed, "you've got to stop these villagers. If I'm burned alive I'll never be able to live until I'm 103. And history will be changed. The consequences could be disastrous."

"I suppose that's possible, but they're quite an angry mob," said Sir Punkrock. "I'm not really in the mood to get in their way. I guess you'll have to help yourself."

Jed frantically tried to chew through the ropes binding him, but his neck couldn't reach around his back without a great deal of pain and killing him. He succeeded in chewing through his beard, but that didn't help him at all. He again implored the people.

"Please! Find your mercy within and cut me free!"

"Mercy? Mercy?" said a repetitious man, pointing accusingly. "We have no mercy for the likes of you! A male witch—it's nasty! And that explains perfectly why you can produce fire and why you wanted to help free that female witch!" The man felt the need to repeat the facts because he secretly worried he had rushed the prosecution on weak material evidence.

"Burn the witch!" shouted a truly ugly man.

"You mustn't burn me!" Jed again screamed. "I'm from the future! I come from a time much better than yours, where we can make fire with small devices and watch TV with digital signals. I came back in time through magic. I'm not a witch!"

"Oh. You should have said that originally," said the ugly man, helping to untie Jed from the burning pole. "You'll have to excuse our fervor. We get very mob-like when we see things that aren't easily explainable. But good luck with the time-traveling thing."

The lead prosecutor mob guy pointed to the original witch, a fire already lit under her. "And this hag? She is a fellow time-traveler, one of yours?"

"No, she is probably some witch," said Foster, pocketing his lighter once again. "If you don't mind, I've got to book. Sir Punkrock… we are to go to the castle now?"

Sir Punkrock had been reading a baudy limerick, and didn't hear. But he pulled it all together and escorted Jed, who he thought was named Sir Gen-General, to the castle of Arthur, King of England and Everything. This time, they were not interrupted.

A large man in shining golden armor came forward from a decorative throne. Everyone bowed to him and called him their king. He carried a mighty sword they all called Excalibur, and on his shield was embossed the name "Arthur." Jed could tell by the man's swagger he was someone very high up in King Arthur's court.

"Good sir knight," said the unknown man, "I am Arthur, King of England and Everything."


Next Chapter: King of England and Everything

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