Mr. Nice guy

Okay, so this is a story I wrote some time ago, and it is just a little bit different. I promise, it does have a happy ending, this is not another mailbox. Critiques, advice, suggestions, all are welcome. I suppose I should tag some people, so let me see…@kate-flournoy @kina-lamb @Emma-flournoy @dragon-snapper @graciegirl @Overcomer @ethryndal @ingridrd @winter-rose @daeus @hope Y’all can reply or not or whatever. So here you are, for your entertainment, Mr. Nice Guy.

My name is Ootchacha, meaning ‘nice one’ and I am the most cunningly evil villain alive. I was born the only son of a lesser lord and saw the error of my father’s ways almost immediately. You see, while he was trying to seize the kingdom he made it rather obvious what he was doing. Gathering political support, taxing peasants out of house and home, and amassing a large fighting force comprised mainly of mercenaries (hence the taxes).
My father tried to overthrow the king by force when I was in my teens, and yes, he failed horribly. Leaving me humiliated and in disgrace as the son of a traitor. Was I bitter? For a little while yes. But then I realized something, the whole dark and broody teenager act wasn’t going to get me anywhere. I had to act.
Now to rule a kingdom you have to have a strategy, so I began to think about what to do. Oppressing the masses would be a good one, but the people who do that always die a horrible death at the hand of some ridiculously noble hero with blonde hair and a flawless dental job. Besides, there were two other problems with that. A: Dying hurts, and I don’t deal well with pain. Like, at all. I mean come on guys, pain hurts! B: Since my father’s death, almost all of my tenants have moved away. And it’s pretty hard to oppress the masses when the only masses left to oppress are two couples that have to be in their seventies, five peasants too poor to move anywhere else, and three stray dogs. So I had to think of something else. Then it came to me. Like a light in the darkness, like a crack of thunder in a storm, like a diamond amidst the ashes ‘twas the way I found my evil plan. I would be……nice! So nice, in fact, that everyone would love me and nobody would object when I came to power. It was perfect, flawless, and completely unheard of. Nobody would be able to see it coming. But first, I must gain favor with the people, and a loyal minion.
So I promptly traveled to the nearest town to join the army. The recruiting sergeant there was very rude. He said in a slobbering, guffawing sort of voice, “Blimey! If it isn’t a little midge of a man come to sign up!” I drew myself up to my full height of five foot two and declared proudly, “Sir, if you have anything against my height I advise it to keep it to yourself. Unless you had rather me go to the navy booth across the street?”
The sergeant stopped laughing then, and scowled before shoving a dirty paper at me that had handwriting scrawled all over it. I took it gingerly between my thumb and forefinger, and carefully went over the terms and conditions for the next twenty minutes. After I had been satisfied that this was no swindle I signed my name and was herded off with a lot of others like so much human cattle.
I will not trouble you by going over the horrors of boot camp, suffice it to say I was soon out of that madhouse and on my way to the eastern front. There I waited and bided my time. Waiting to seize the perfect opportunity, and at last my chance came!
The king was leading his troops into battle when his horse fell from under him. He was dazed and didn’t realize what was happening as the enemy came to finish him off. Then I, Ootchacha the Bold stepped between them and said “Over my dead body.” Biggest. Mistake. Ever.
When I woke up I was in the field hospital, and in a whole lot of pain. At first I wondered where I was and then I remembered. Or at least I think I remembered, the seconds after my ‘bold’ statement were rather a blur. When it was found that I had come to, the captain of the royal guard presented me with a summons that I was to go before the king as soon as I was able.
Six weeks later I hobbled my way up the palace steps, sweating up a storm as I struggled ever forwards. Who even has twenty four front steps anyways? At last I reached summit and began the journey to the throne room. When I arrived there I realized with some horror that I would have to descend seven steps to enter. One foot at a time, mustering all the grace I had I descended. I was just taking what I thought was the last step downwards when I realized that, well, I had missed the last step! My crutch went out from under me and I flew forwards with eyes wide and doing a beautiful face plant on the floor, which was excellently waxed, and the momentum carried me until I was just a few feet away from the throne.
Everyone turned to stare and I, pasting a smile on my face, attempted to raise myself up on my crutch with all the dignity I could muster. “Your Majesty” I said, panting for breath. “What a joy it is to see you whole and well. May I offer my most humble congratulations on the success of your campaign.” And I gasped for air as inconspicuously as possible. The king gazed down at me for a long moment as I stood there. And I thought for a brief moment that I was going to be hauled out and executed, but then he smiled, a great gleaming beast of a crooked-toothed grin.
“My loyal subject.” He boomed. And I had to resist the urge to cover my ears from that gargantuan voice. “Well have you served me in all things. And I would reward you for your faithful service. Kneel Ootchacha, son of Hinka, and prepare to receive your reward.” Then the king stood and touching a sword on my shoulders said, “Arise sir Ootchacha, Duke of Glibgook and an honorary Captain in the royal armies.” So it was I became a duke.
The first thing I did with my newfound fortune was invest in having all the houses on my properties put in tip-top living condition. Then I advertised that whoever wanted could move in for free, all they had to do was sign a contract saying that I would receive a mere five percent of yearly crops, and all taxes would be paid on time and the houses and land were theirs free and clear. It was genius I tell you, sheer genius! By making a five percent flat rate tax, and minimizing my expenditures as much as possible, I became within seven years one of the wealthiest men in the land. I also had the happiest tenants. Anyone in the house sick? The duke will send for an expert healer. Fire at home? The duke will have your house rebuilt for free. Crops gone bad? The duke will gladly wait until next year for payment, and make sure you have enough food for the winter. All those under me were perfectly loyal, and all those above me saw me as a fine citizen, and a worthy example to all.
Along the way I also picked up a minion. His name was Miko, and he had lost his house to flooding while living as a servant under lord Rippen. When he could not pay the rent lord Rippen would have sold him as a slave, except I stepped in, paid his debts, and offered him a place in my service. Miko was six foot seven, with shoulders as broad as a wagon; strong as an ox and almost as intelligent. However he was very loyal, very intimidating, and didn’t make fun of my height like some rude people I could name. The first time he spoke I was utterly floored, he would have been perfect as a bass in any choir, as he seemed to growl out every word as deeply as humanly possible. He was also an excellent deterrent for robbers and thieves, they all fled at the sight of him.
So I grew in power, buying land here, building houses there, it was all very quiet and un-obvious. Until I was even more powerful than I was wealthy and had gained the title of Grand Duke, which as you know is as high as you can go without being king. But was I content? Never! I would achieve my goal of kingship. When I was but thirty-two the king died, leaving no heir and no wife as he had been a confirmed bachelor. I called forth all my troops and marched to the capital, where I seized the castle from several advisors which were arguing over who would ascend to the throne. Naturally the first thing I did was to give the old king a fine burial, with mutes, black feathered horses, and all the trimmings. My dress was of course impeccable, being the finest black robes that money could buy.
After the services were over I retired to the castle to have a glass of wine and think over the next steps of my diabolical plottings. Only I sat in the great hall, except for the hulking Miko who stood behind my seat. I had just taken a sip of my drink when a servant burst through the door. The surprise made me choke, and for a long moment I coughed and gagged. “Sire” said the servant. “The people have amassed themselves outside the palace. They demand to see you.” I immediately went as white as a sheet. This is what I had been afraid of. A mob. And I hadn’t even taken control yet. It just wasn’t fair! Well there was nothing for it but to go and try to appease the masses.
I went out onto a balcony overlooking the courtyard where the people had gathered and were shouting my name. “Who calls for me?” I shouted as loudly as I could. “Let one of you stand forth so that we can talk about this like rational human beings. We are most certainly not savages here.” A man dressed as a farmer was pushed forwards then, and I recognized him as one of my tenants by the name of Pon. He shuffled his feet and twisted the hat he heal for a moment before speaking. “Ya see sire.” He said. “We don’t want one ‘o them snoot-faced advisors for king. We’ve all agreed we want you. Someone as understand and’lle have our best interests at the fore.” I was touched then by the gesture which had been shown me. Just kidding. This was part of the plan, I really hadn’t been afraid at all.
I put on my most earnest expression. “But are you sure? I have my doubts as to whether I am the right person for the task. Do you not want someone stronger, taller, and more impressive?” “No!” cried the people as one. And shouts of “Only Ootchacha!” and “Long live the king!” went up from every side. I smiled benevolently, saying “I bow to the will of the people,” my tones dripping with humility. Then everyone cheered and hats filled the air. That night was spent in feasting and rejoicing. All who objected to my ascension were silenced or drowned out in the gloriously deafening praise of my name. I was coronated yesterday; today I rule. Long live king Ootchacha.
The End