Thatplaceoverthehillia by Raphael the Contradiction

This is a story that began a long time ago in a land called Thatplaceoverthehillia, or some wierd crap like that...yeah, it's all one word.  In this land there lived a king whose formal name was The Grand Exhalted Bob the 23rd, or as the pesants called him, King Shithead.  Now, the king was hated throughout the kingdom for many reasons, but more because he banned all Cheerios from the land, even those delicious Honey Nut ones.  Since he was the king, none of his subjects ever saw him, and that made them trust him even less.  Many thought he was nonexistent all together; a ploy made up to raise taxes, although they did like having his birthday as a holiday.  But he was very real, although very ineffectual.  One day, as he sat jamming on his harp, one of his advisors came in to speak with him.

Advisor: Sire, there is something I must speak with you about.
King: Can't you see I'm busy?  How am I ever supposed to learn the A chord with all these distractions!
Advisor: I am sorry sire, I realize that is completely my fault you can't play the harp.
King: Damn right...now what is urgent?
Advisor:  Word has come from a top informant that a nearby kingdom is planning to...do away with you.
King: Huh?
Advisor: They have hired an assasin, sire!
King: Come again?
Advisor: They are going to try to put you six feet under!
King: Why don't you stop with all the fancy 6th grade words, and get to the bloody point!?
Advisor: They are going to try and kill you!
King: Well, why didn't you say something in the first place, instead of making with all that small talk?  I can't die!  I haven't even seen a monkey knife fight yet!  Which kingdom is plotting this treachery?
Advisor: I believe it's the one with the name that's really hard to pronounce.
King: Bah!  That doesn't help, they're all hard to pronounce!
Advisor: It's the one that starts with a 'T'.
King: I knew it'd be them, those damn 'T' bastards!  They always have been jealous of my great looks...I mean, look at me.  Just look at me!  I am one sexy bitch, don't you think so?
Advisor: Uh...yes...yes, of course...now what should be done about the assassination?
King: Ah, yes, that...How did our informant hear about this?
Advisor: From his cousin, who owns the bowling alley.
King: I see, and how did this cousin hear of it?
Advisor: From his janitor.
King: And how did the janitor hear of it?
Advisor: From this whino in the alley who claims to be psychic.
King: So the rumors must be true!  I've never known a psychic whino to be wrong!  Prepare the army!
Advisor: I'm afraid, sire, they are unavailable right now.
King: I'm the king, what do you mean they are 'unavailable'??
Advisor: Well, you see, there was this really awesome kegger last night, and---
King: Oh, never mind!  Just report to the courtyard tomorrow and bring the next best thing.

So the king agonized the entire night, studying maps and planning the best strategies on how to protect himself.  He later went to sleep so as to be ready for the conflict the next morning.  Upon awakening the next day, he went to the courtyard...

King: What the hell is this??
Advisor: Why, it's the next best thing, just like you asked for.
King: They look like the Kingdom's soccer team!
Advisor: They are the Kingdom's soccor team, sire.
King: How are they the next best thing?  What are are we going to do? Shin-kick the enemy into surrendering??
Advisor: Oh! We never thought of that...
King: Never mind!  Send them away!
Advisor: Okay guys, beat it.
King: Oh, by the way, I was checking maps yesterday, and I found something unusual.
Advisor: What's that, sire?
King: This kingdom is the only one I could find that started with a 'T'.
Advisor: What are you saying?
King: If the informant was right, our assassin should be here...oh, all this thinking has made me hungry.  Fetch me a cheeseburger.
Advisor: I believe thou art a saucy fellow, and a dastardly villian.  You must be disposed of post haste!
King: Huh...?  No, I said I wanted a cheeseburger, no sauce or that dastardly stuff..it sounds too spicy.  Well, get going...what are you doing with that knife?  Get away from me! AHHHHHH!!! Pleeeeeease don't forget to water my Chia Pet....!!

The king was found the next day, and of course he was dead.  One of his top advisors said that the king died while swallowing a half eaten Dorito that was so sharp it cut his throat and killed him.  Hey, those things can be pretty sharp.  Of course, many skeptics had their doubts, and believed the king was actually murdered by the Smurfs hiding in the grassy knoll.  The lesson to be learned from this tale is that money, good looks, and power will never be a good substitute for the knowledge of a psychic drunken whino...or failing that, an albino midget with a crystal ball.  Remember that, for it may very well save your life one day.  Or not.