Chapter 6: Count Berker...the Awesome

Count Berker was having a rather splendid morning. Waking at the bright hour of two in the afternoon, he sat in bed and stared into the black darkness of his quarters before leaping over the rails the top bunk of his bunked bed. The Count did not have a roommate, but he rather enjoyed being able to sleep on the top bunk and so he had commanded his subjects to build him an extravagant bunked bed. He clapped his hands, compelling light to cover the features of his large quarters with a dim, gloomy light. Slipping on his bright-blue woosii slippers and donning his drab-purple morning robe, he raced to the opposite end of his colossally-sized room and gazed impressively at his reflection in the mirror. He practiced poses in the mirror before standing still and examining his identical likeness. The man staring back at him had a long face with smallish, keen-brown eyes. His rather prominent nose, which gradually ended in a point three inches from his face, was notched and erratic in places as it had been broken at least thrice, though he couldn’t remember exactly how many times. His face was rough, but somehow handsome. He smiled at himself, showcasing teeth that were slightly less than perfect. His hair was grey and balding at the top, and the little hair he had was standing on end sideways and behind him, making for a rather “exciting” hairdo, in the Count’s opinion. He was a tall, lanky man, standing about six feet three inches short. This handsome genius couldn’t be much older than forty he thought to himself. Liking what he saw, he leaped across the room and threw himself onto the tire swing hanging in the middle of his room. He tested the limits of his vocal chords singing incoherent opera loudly, spinning in circles, clinging to the tire swing. Letting the tire swing slow its pace of turns, he sighed in content before dismounting in a hurry. He quickly voided the spam between himself and his large desk and came to a sudden stop beside his large misfit periscope which stretched upwards a quarter mile, just enough to break the surface of the Lake Bloik which was located in the heart of the Epic Village of Bob. The top of the periscope was disguised as a lipsok, a mere stroke of cleverness on the side of the Count who very much “unwanted” attention on the part of literally anyone. Count Berker often contented himself by observing the going-ons of Bob and then plotting how to best inconvenience the citizens of the town he loathed. He loathed many things, including peanut butter, sarcasm, clowns, garden gnomes, and of course people in general. Seating himself on his massive wheeled armchair, he peered into the lenses of his periscope and gasped at what he saw. There were people everywhere, strolling about, minding their own business. Is this world going MAD? he exclaimed in his mind although he already knew the answer was resounding “yes.” The snow was falling ever so lightly, making for a fairly romantic walk for the couples making their way down the sidewalk which encircled the lake. Under a large tree was a school teacher encircled by a group of ten-year-olds who were all talking and pointing about and at completely unrelated things all at once, much to the objections of their exasperated teacher who was trying to teach them the fundamental differences between a polkk tree and a typatra tree.

The Count threw his head back and cackled a quite rehearsed maniac laugh, and then focused again on Bob, giggling. He focused on a young man sitting on a bench next to the lake and studied him intently. This man was a skinny, spectacled one—the Count calculated he couldn't be much older than twenty-three-and-a-half. This man was simply sitting, looking glumly at the water's surface and this annoyed the Count almost as greatly as the happy couples did. Get up and move already, thought the Count impatiently. After a few minutes, the Count concluded that the "boy" must have been depressed as a direct result of his most boring apparel. Yawning most loudly, the Count concluded that his animosity towards boring people was almost as pointed as his animosity for thumbtacks.
            The Count was bored and he felt like the epic village above him was growing extremely arrogant for a people who lived a mere half-mile above an evil genius. "I will show them to fear the name of Count Berker!!!" he shouted aloud to mostly himself as a morale booster. “But,” he said, “How should I do it?" He again peered into the lenses of his periscope and again focused on the man sitting on the bench. The man, however, seemed almost happy now, causing the Count to gag on his tongue in disgust. "MAKE UP YOUR MIND!!" shouted the Count in anger, “You people change your emotions like a CONFOUNDED STOPLIGHT!!!” Clearly annoyed, the Count continued, “In a perfect world, you pathetic people would be absolutely emotionless, APATHETIC I SAY!!" Then the Count paused, taking in the full brilliancy of his ramblings. A wicked smile hijacked his lips, causing them to curl up around the edges. He slid across the room on his armchair, coming to a solid halt after crashing in the wall opposite him, summoning the airbags he had installed to prevent injury. As one might have guessed, the Count was not a much practiced armchair driver, resulting in broken bones almost daily until the Count, in rage, had ordered his subjects to install airbags. The Count climbed out of his now inflated armchair and shook a bony finger at the wall that had greeted him so lovingly. "BWAHHAAAAHAHAAAHA! YOU DIDN”T GET ME THIS TIME YOU IDIOT WALL!!! BWA!!” With that, the Count stalked to his mirror, and after straightening his hair into its normal position of chaos, he smiled to himself. “Berker, you ARE a genius,” he said fondly of himself, “and a quite handsome one at that.” With that he strode to the intercom microphone mounted on the desk and broadcasted loudly, “Heeeeellooooo my minions! This is your handsome, brilliant…humble…and yes, handsome Count speaking. I, your Awesome, kind, and gorgeous leader have an announcement to make. Assemble into the GREAT Hall in one hour!” And with that, the Count, went to dress.

To Be Continued…

Credit: Tom K