“Do think these pants are too tight?”
“They're fine! Let's go, already—the Emperor and his retinue are bascillicating!”
“But the crystals!” said Nancy Amirilleth Riptuskus, age 15.
“I have them—here, put them in your 'secret satchel,'” frumped Sally “The Darphe” Frankelstoi, 16. “I've been keeping them hidden in my hope chest, taking them out only long enough to reticulate them once every thousand years, ever since the Emperor's Illustrious Guardians, the Protectors of the Floating Purple Iridium Sphere, have had an intrigue afoot to swap the crystals out with dead batteries and sell them on the beige market to some evil Quandrolions, mercenary agents of espionage, to fulfill their evil scheme to overthrow the remnants of the Prophecy.”
“Which prophecy?” replied Nancy.
Sally, now out of breath, having squeezed too many words into one sentence (as usual) was struggling to descend the rickety stair-bridge with her half-sister. She stopped only a moment to inhale. Grabbing Nancy's left shoulder pad, she whispered, “Not a prophecy, dear, the Prophecy.”
* * * * * *
Dear Reader,
We apologize for the awkward and obvious insertion of detailed exposition into the opening dialogue of this epic tale. We have, after years of classical and contemporary literary studies asserted (against the will of William Bennett) that the true value of a plot is in its ability to hide itself within itself.
That stories should be peeled like a onion, we say, with new layers sitting in admiration of each other, rather than like a banana, or a loose woman, being peeled much too quickly, and with very little surprise.
In our defense, a much longer (and might we add, quite clever) unveiling of exposition was written in the original manuscript of this story, which, due to an unfortunate ornamental lantern conflagration was lost forever. This shorter plot condensation (comprising of the above textual appetizer) was developed by our Junior Authors' Club of Miami, where we hear the T-shirt business is quite prosperous this season.
Sincerely,
The Bureaucracy
This slowly developing sci-fi fantasy novel is co-written by Karen and Justin. The title is subject to change. We haven't mapped out the entire plot, so if you come up with any bright ideas, let us know.
ReplyDeleteT.S. Eliot said that art is not raw emotion, but a response to our environment. Literature is an on-going conversation. We intend to voice our response to the entire sci-fi fantasy canon, the best and the worst.