It was an average day in the [insert adjectives here] Kingdom Of The Sun. George was acting alot like himself, Polly and Paul were often mistaken for being Dirk and Talia (but not in that order,) and Itsy, Jack, and Jessie were at soccer practice.
Then the two -- oh, wait, Jessie makes three -- of them got home. Jack was mumbling something about SPAM, and Itsy was groaning something unintelligible.
"What's wrong?" asked George with concern.
"Shmufer Bobafett he is yeah what're we talking about -- I only wish I knew muffshners..." Itsy replied, collapsing on George, who smirked at Paul.
"And put you in my pocket! Oh, hi Itsy, Jack," Paul said.
"What was that about your pocket?" asked George.
"Oh, Paul!" sighed Polly.
"Er... nothing," Paul replied.
"Hey, Jack, what's wrong with Itsy?" asked George.
"I know, not zat you care. You all hate me, I know zat you do," Jessie moped.
"I don't know, mumble-SPAM-mumble," Jack said.
"I do." Jessie repeated.
"Are you sure?" George asked Jack.
"Jessie might know," Jack said.
"Of course I know, I have a brain ze size of ze Universe, and ze most intellectually challenging thing I've been asked all day is 'Vat's wrong vith Itsy?' Call zis job satisfaction? 'Cause I don't! Ah, life..." moaned Jessie.
"Okay, where is she?" asked the King. "Hey Polly, have you seen Jessie?"
"I'm vight here," sighed Jessie.
"Oh, Dirk... I mean Paul... not since this morning, George." Polly said.
"I'm here!" Jessie yelled.
"How about you Paul?"
Jessie began to jump up and down, waving her arms frantically. No one noticed. She began to turn cartwheels, juggle, tell jokes, and 'Ba dum dum ching!' herself. It was the most like a jester she'd ever acted in her whole career.
No one noticed.
"Zis is great. She's just sore!" screamed Jessie, waving her hand directly between Paul and Polly's faces.
"Hey, where IS Jessie?" asked Itsy, waking up.
"What's wrong?" asked George.
"I'm sore and tired," Itsy answered.
"BA DUM DUM CHING!" Jessie screeched.
She then gave up and decided that everyone hated her (again.) She quit her job as a jester. Just as she was about to walk out the door, George finally asked, "Oh, hi Jessie, what're you doing?"
"Leaving!" she snapped, mad instead of depressed. She pulled off her jester hat.
"And I wish you were in a cast so I could carry you everywhere," Paul said to Polly. "But I could never wish you would feel pain, and --- Oooow!" he finished as Jessie's hat hit him in the face.
"Haste lasagna, don't get any on ya!" Jessie said, and walked out.
"Quoi?"
Jessie walked wistfully wherever the wind went. She wasn't mad anymore, she was, as always, depressed.
"Zey all hate me, I know zey do. Zey don't miss me. I hate my life." She contemplated suicide for the many-manieth time.
"Be happy! We love you! Be happy! We lo----"
"Vat ze heck are you?"
"We are PAUAFT's next generation!"
"Huh?"
"People Against Uniqueness And Free Thinking! We love you! Be happy!" seven or eight voices chanted in unison.
Jessie looked over the people. They were all wearing pastels -- the girls in dresses and the boys in suits -- and had identical haircuts -- the girl had early 60's suedos, and the boys had buzz cuts.
"We love you! Be happy! Join us! We love you!"
"You've been vatching too much Barney," Jessie said in a depressing voice.
"What's your name? PAUAFT loves hearing names!" they all said.
"Err..." Jessie screamed and ran.
"We love you! We love you! We love you!" The scary voices dwindled in the distance.
When Jessie finally stopped running she found herself in a small town called Paulzomtown, in the Queendom.
"I hate zis place," Jessie sighed. She'd only been there for about three minutes, but since she was Jessie, she could hate it anyway.
She decided to eat in a restaurant called Therezfootprintzinere. She seated herself near a table of three woman, who she hated, and listened to their conversation, which depressed her.
"Do you know what this reminds me of?" sighed the first girl, drinking a cup of coffee.
"The waiter a Paris?" asked the French one.
"Yesterday," sighed the third one. "Well, almost a year ago actually, but still..."
"And toast..."
"And Paul," agreed the first.
"Paul?" wondered Jessie, "They CAN'T mean Mr. Shmarmy, can they?"
"Oui," said the French one.
"I miss him. Sort of," agreed the third.
"Paul who?" Jessie asked out loud.
"Paul-Paul. He didn't have a last name. Few people in these stories do!" said the third.
"Shmarmy -- Paul?" suggested Jessie. "The bored bard?"
"Oui," said the French one. She paused and added, "Je m'appelle Michelle. Elle s'appelles Jane et Martha."
Jessie thought to herself. "Ono! It IS Mr. Shmarmy's girlfriends!" A devious thought occurred to her. "Vat vould you do if you VOUND Mr. Shmarmy?" asked Jessie.
"Kill him." Jane said.
"Oui."
"I'd help!"
Jessie felt (relatively) happy. "Vell, I happen to know vhere zis bard lives..."
Three people -- Martha, Jane, and Michelle -- burst into the throne room of the Sand-Castle-on-a-cloud. "There you are!" yelled Martha.
"Martha?" Paul sounded confused.
"Tu... tu... tu vash espanol!" shrieked Michelle.
"Michelle?!"
"And don't forget ME, Paul DEAREST!" Jane added bitterly.
"Er... Jane?"
"Dir -- I mean, Paul?" asked Polly, "Who are these people?"
"They're... my... uh..."
"Ex-girlfriends!" Jane snapped.
"Yeah, that's it." agreed Paul.
George, Itsy, and Jack started laughing. Polly did not look amused...
Several hours, a visit from the ukulele guy, a few sticks of melted butter, and a bunch of chicken feathers later, Paul was the other-kind-of-dead again.
"You KILLED him?!" laughed Itsy.
Martha rinsed the soap bubbles off her hands. "Yep."
"Oui."
"Of course."
Meanwhile, Jessie was wondering, lost, around the Queendom and Kingdom. She stopped in town in the Queendom called Raizadude.
"Dude, my name is NOT Aladdin, dude!" said a guy with an open vest to a shorter dude with red hair.
"Dude, tell me about it! Dude, hi Raye," said the surfer.
Raye was a fifteen-year-old girl with extremely long legs, big eyes, and black hair. "Hi, Chad!"
Eventually, Jessie was introduced to them.
"Dude, where'd you come from?"
"The Queendom!" Raye said, "I mean, Moon Kingdom. Ono, it's over a thousand years ago! Bye!"
Raye disappeared.
Jessie looked at Chad for an answer. He shrugged. "Don't ask me, dude."
"Don't call me zat!"
Then Chad handed Jessie a tape and said, "Dude, listen to this. It's my DECCA audition tape."
"Don't call me zat!"
Against her better judgment she listened to it. It was like something out of Revolution 9.
"Scrap murtmibble you are unbitten you are unbitten..." Jessie realize it was backwards, and listened to it forwards. It was a tape of A GROOVY STORY THAT HAS NO TITLE.
"I liked it better in reverse," sighed Jessie, and began to listen to it in reverse again.
"Smurfriliberries turn me on deadman flipshiekristcabledo you are unbitten you are unbitten..." Then Jessie realized the subliminal message and turned off the tape.
"Noooo!" she yelled, feeling her fangs. They grew -- or ungrew -- back into regular teeth. She looked at the scar left from the bite Vincent had given her, and she watched it slowly disappear.
She was un-undead.
With a depressed and depressing sigh she began to listen to the tape backwards again. "Ip ap up John Lennon. Sorry for the inconvenience..."
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