Fern and the Funny Bone, Part One

Fern and his father couldn't have been any more different from each other. Fern was silly, arrogant, spoiled, and an aspiring trickster. His father was serious, stern, disciplined, and a demanding ruler. As Mother liked to say, "That man doesn't have a funny bone in his body."

But he has to have a funny bone, doesn't he? Fern thought, pausing before the dining hall. Yet he couldn't recall his father ever laughing. Not once.

If today's mission was a success, then Fern would prove, beyond a reasonable doubt, that his father, Time King, Ruler of the Galactic Temporal Empire, did indeed have a funny bone.

Maybe two.

Commence Operation: Strike-Father-In-His-Funny-Bone-But-Make-It-Look-Like-An-Accident.

He would have come up with a better name if he had the time. Technically, he had time powers, so he could make the time, but only the Time King was allowed to wield such power. That, and he had no idea how to actually use his powers.

But the Time King would depart in less than an hour for the Praxalorian star system on some official ruling-the-whole-galaxy type business. Now or never, Fern thought, his hands touching cold metal doors. Now. Definitely now! Initiating Phase One.

Fern slammed the dining hall's double doors open.

Seated at the three long dining tables, numerous Time Officials jumped in their seats or dropped their utensils as the doors clanged against the hypermantium walls. Each table was long enough to seat fifty Time Officials, and today the hall was packed.

Fern stood there, hands on hips.

Without skipping a beat, Marmar, Fern's galactic education mentor, stood and smirked at his colleagues before looking down at his royal pupil. "Now, Fern, you know that lunchtime in the Time Officials' dining hall is a time of sacred tranquility. Such noise will not be tolerated, as per the dining bylaws that I, MarbaxabraM, helped draft. Disrupt this meal again and I will have no choice but to tell your—"

Initiating Phase Two.

Fern sprinted at Marmar, or rather just past him, leapt onto the middle table, and ran down its length as clumsily and destructively as he could.

His boot landed square in a bowl of black hole stew. A goblet of green gammilox juice cartwheeled into an official's lap. A solartart pie went airborne and landed smack dab on a balding official's head.

Hah, I couldn't have planned that even if I tried!

Fern's heart raced as he stampeded his way past the last few officials, sparing nothing but a single goblet. Behind him, the officials stood dripping and glaring, but every one of them bit their tongue. They knew better than to disrespect the son of the Time King.

All but one, of course.

"FERNIBULUS KLAXONIAN POLYGLORP!" Marmar stormed across the hall toward Fern, who was at the end of the table hunched over, hands on knees as he tried to catch his breath. "Fernibulus. This behavior is completely unbecoming of the Time Prince. You must accompany me at once to explain yourself to your father before he leaves for Praxalor."

Fern shrugged, feigning defeat. "If you insist, oh wise mentor of mine."

The young prince hopped off the edge of the table, and turned toward the closest Time Official, whose meal he had ruined but whose goblet he had missed, and politely asked, "Do you mind?" He snatched the official's pink pluminox juice and downed it before they could respond. Fern let out a satisfied "Ahh" and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Initiating Phase Three.