The Emperor's New Codes

Many years ago, there was a plump King with thick brown hair who greatly fancied new codes that he spent so much effort and money in fashioning and parading them for all to see. He cared not a bit on mending the concerns of colored laborers, consulting the women's guild, or limiting coal pollution. His ultimate desire was to constitute a legislation that could be more famous than the Code of Hammurabi or the Mosaic Law.

The King's passion for laws was evident in the castle's architecture. On his first year of reign, a museum was erected in his honor. It was filled with codes. Everything inside the building was engraved with all of his edicts and commands. He had them printed on walls, sheepskins, elephant hides, mammoth's wools, and turtle shells.

Another quirky thing about the King was his appetite for introducing a new code every turn of the hourglass. Citizens would hear about them from his ministers proclaiming on every street corner. Silly thing was - They were always dressed like blue jays when they chirped the news.

In one particular week, he had his Public Communication Minister, Sir Sean Tabasco, yell out, "Hear ye! Hear ye! By command of your Majesty, ye shall secure thy ties with scotch tape." The week before that, the King ordered all dailies writing against him be named fake propagandas. "I would rather listen to the screams of the foxes than read those dailies," said the King.

Too bad, in this kingdom, people seldom saw their King perform the essential affairs of ruling. Ministers would say, "His Majesty is on his golfing grounds," more often than, "The Majesty is in council."

Lord Carson, the hydrocephalic minister for the kingdom's city development, grew anxious about the King's performance. "The King's lack of enthusiasm for ruling may be the reason for his very low job approval rating," he whispered to another nobleman.

The King overheard the conversation and jumped in front of them. All the scrolls Lord Carson and the nobleman were carrying fell on the marbled floor.

"Why would my job approval rating dip if I am not doing my tasks?" said the King. "Lord Kushner should be held responsible," he added, laughing as he walked away.

#

In this great city where the King lived, life was almost always gay. Foreigners came to town every day. Among them were two craftsmen named Paul and Ryan. They came from the far away city of Sena whose citizens were called Senators. 

When they arrived, they began boasting about how good they were. Standing atop empty fruit boxes, the two advertised their trade in the middle of the street market.

"The best code weavers. That's what we are. Just three gold coins, and we'll craft you a regulation to rule your domicile. Give us a pouchful, and we'll weave a law to rule your land." Shoppers nearby halted and listened to the two strangers dressed in crimson cloaks made from mammoth's hides.

"The codes we weave are so magical, they have a way of becoming invisible to anyone whose eyes are unfit for office. Surely, any fool would be exposed," they added.

Chatter about the strange craftsmen soon reached the King.

"Those codes are fitting for a ruler of my stature," said He. "If I have a tablet made by them, and I carry it around, I will certainly unmask all the fools in my kingdom. Yes, I certainly must get one woven for me, not in sixty-two days but right away." 

So, off he sent a messenger with a pouch filled with gold to commission the two Senators.

#

The two craftsmen were delighted with the invitation. They followed the messenger back into the castle, and they were escorted to a room in the Baytur's Tower, the tallest of all the towers in the land.

Paul and Ryan set up a table and a forge in a rush to begin their code crafting. Chisels of various sizes, gavels, tongs, a hardy, and a sledgehammer were lifted out from their tool sacks and onto the table. Without any quill or paper, their hands sketched the design for the tablet of codes.

The two requisitioned gold and silver bars which they said they would melt into the shape of a tablet. They demanded bags of precious stones to be the embellishments, but all the materials were sequestered in their traveling bags.

All day and night, the craftsmen toiled. Forging, bending, and welding nothing but air. It was like Queen Melania giving hand jobs to the King -- took hours but getting no stiffer than a gummy worm.

"I'd like to know how those Senators are doing with their welding and forging," the King spoke to his mirrored self. But, a tad of hesitation was stopping him from making an impulsive inspection. He raised a hand. The barber, sticking hair onto His Majesty's scalp using a turpentine-based glue, turned and left the room. The King knew that those who were unfit for their position wouldn't be able to see the tablet. 

By then, every commoner in the city knew of the royal codes which were being forged. When they walked by Baytur's tower, they'd hear the pounding and see the black smoke come out of the chimney. Everyone was eager to know which of their neighbors was a fool.

"I shall send my most eloquent and dependable counselor, the royal necromancer, Madame Conway, to the Senators," His Majesty said. "I know she'll tell me how wonderful the codes look. She is a sensible woman and has done my every bidding to the letter. Certainly, her eyes will see this tablet for she has been great at the job in all these years."

And so, the honest old hag, with lips as wide as a frog and with skin so ravaged by wrinkles it had been mistaken to have its own fault line, followed a foot soldier up the tower.

Upon reaching the door, she saw the two pounding at the table filled only with their chisels, sledgehammer, tongs, and gavels. The table was badly beaten. It had dents and chips everywhere. But, nowhere could she see what they were working on. The coals in the furnace burned red hot, but there were no metals being cooked.

Heavens to Betsy! She thought, breathing deeply. Are my eyes deceiving me? Where's the golden tablet of codes? She kept her confusion and surprise from showing on her face.

The two Senators stood, heads held high, smiling as she inspected the table. Paul quickly stooped and brushed the non-existent tablet with the feathered duster. Ryan pointed at how large the frames were and how hard they toiled on the embellishments. Still, Madame Conway couldn't see anything. By the gods of stars and the mountains, let me see, she implored. Am I a fool all along? No one must know.

"Don't be reserved with your criticisms, my Mistress!" said Paul.

"Yes, pray tell us what you think of our work. Does it please you?" Ryan urged.

She clasped her hands before her chest and said, "Oh, it's marvelous. My eyes are bedazzled by its workmanship."

The two Senators narrated how they came up with the design. They mentioned all the colors and patterns they had laid out on the tablet. "It will last for generations to see," they said.

The lowly foot soldier standing beside Madame Conway was baffled. He scratched his head and said, "Kind sirs, by generations, do you mean, just the young, healthy, and rich? It says there that the sick and the old have to pay more to get help. Isn't the health care code supposed to be asking the healthy to fund the sick?"

The two Senators looked at the empty table, confounded at what the soldier was seeing.

Madame Conway raised a hand to the soldier's face and pushed the man away. "Stop babbling, Bernie. You're not even seeing correctly what's on that tablet. Now, go and guard the door."

She smiled at Paul and Ryan, and said, "Please go on. Tell me more about this golden tablet of codes." She was all ears as they talked, so she could recite the words exactly to the King.

When the two Senators finished their presentation, Madame Conway said, "Delightful! The engravings and the gems' position are well thought of. I shall tell nothing but good things to the King."

"We are pleased to know that, milady," said Ryan.

So away strode the royal necromancer, memorizing her lines as she went looking for His Majesty. She found him on the kingdom's royal golf lawn. She knelt before him, and with full vigor narrated the alternative facts she bore.

Ye gads, this woman could kneel with so much devotion, thought the King.

Days later, the Senators asked for more money and materials. They petitioned for additional metals - gold, silver, copper and bronze. They asked for extra gems - rubies, sapphires, amethysts, aquamarines, diamonds, topazes, and emeralds. But the two just packed and hid all they'd received in their bags.

#

A few days later, the King sent another trusted minion to see the progress of the work and inquire how soon it would be completed. His Majesty sent Lord Prick Perry, whose nose always fumed when he got agitated.

But just like Madame Conway, poor Lord Perry couldn't see the project the artisans were working on. He looked and looked. He walked around the table and the forge. On his knees, he squinted across the wooden slab where the Senators said the tablet lay. His nose fumed. The two Senators even thought they saw sparks shoot out of the man's nostrils like when steel is sanded.

Paul and Ryan looked at each other. Both felt anxious that the nobleman might call them a fraud. Unbeknownst to them, Lord Perry was just as upset. His heart pounded like he had been ballroom dancing a thousand times over.

There is nothing on the table, or in the furnace! Lord Perry was rattled. I couldn't see anything! He knew, however, others had seen the tablet, and boasted how they were worthy of their office.

I know I am not a dunderhead, the baron thought, so it must be that I am unfit for my title. That's quite odd. I must not let anyone find it out, though.

So, he exalted the project he did not see. "The lines, the colors, and the patterns are beyond anything words could describe!"

When he met up with the King, he said, "It was spellbinding."

The chatter around town about His Majesty's new codes became even more fanciful. They talked about how the glow from the gemstones could reach hundreds of miles, and the words on the tablet could move one's heart to tears.

The King heard of the chatter and was so intrigued that he had to see it for himself while it was still in the forge. Accompanied by a band of his chosen noblemen, including the already duped Madame Conway and Lord Perry, His Majesty sashayed up the stairs of the tower. Upon reaching the upper floor, he saw the two Senators wielding their heavy hammers upon an empty table and a lonely anvil.

"Clink Clink Boom! Clink Clink Boom!" Down came the hammers.

The forge's blower cried, "Wooosh! Wooosh!"

"Magnificent!" said the two officials, clapping as they praised. The other dumbfounded ministers, such as the one called the foreclosure machinist, Lord Mnuchin, and the environmental baron who hated Mother Nature, Lord Pruitt, clapped alongside the others.

The two Senators ceased their hammering and forging, and bowed in all seriousness at the officials.

"Just look at the craftsmanship, Your Majesty! How wonderful are the colors and the design!" the two ministers raved, pointing at the empty table and the unused forge.

What's this?, thought the King. I don't see anything. This is terrible! Am I a nitwit? Do I not belong to a line of Kings? What a disgraceful thing to happen! Of all people, it is I who cannot see the tablet of gold. This cannot be. Not one soul shall know of this. Not one!

"Oh! It's very beautiful," said the King. "It is truly spellbinding, as I was told." 

The entourage behind him strained the muscles in their eyes, but not one saw more than the others did. Everyone, however, joined the King in giving praises to the two craftsmen.

"I highly approve of such great workmanship," said His Majesty. "And for that, I will award both of you the title 'Master Baytur', the forgers of great laws."

"A fitting title Your Majesty! They did conquer the Baytur's tower with their impeccable artistry," said Madame Conway.

The two Senators knelt before the King, and His Majesty pinned a medal in the shape of a ball pein hammer on their cotehardie. The ministers and noblemen applauded.

"Six more candles we will burn through the night, Your Majesty, and the bejeweled tablet of codes will be ready for your grand parade," Paul and Ryan said in unison.

That evening, the two craftsmen sat in staidness as they put in the final touches on the tablet. They pretended to check how tight the jewels locked into place. Every inch of the tablet was sanded by an imaginary scrotum of a mastodon. The two held non-existing lenses to their eyes to see if the engraved texts had any rough spots.

Before the rooster crowed the following day, the two said, "Now, His Majesty's new codes await him."

#

Hours later, the Senators were summoned down to the throne room. The two lifted the tablet between them as if they carried a block of granite. They descended the spiral staircase and headed for the hall, careful to make the strain on their forearms noticeable.

All of the King's noblemen and trusted officials were present during the most awaited inauguration. Some craned their heads and tiptoed to see above the crowd in front of them. Promptly, at the sight of the two craftsmen, they all applauded.

Sir Sean Tabasco, standing on the pulpit, uttered aloud, "All hail, the King's New Codes." The trumpets growled a fanfare.

"Marvelous! Splendid! How glorious his Majesty's new codes look!" Each spectator did their best to talk over the person beside them.

The two Senators approached the King and lifted the invisible tablet before him. His Majesty reached up, smiling. The applause grew louder.

"The design and the colors are all so magnificent! Truly befitting our King," the officials cheered.

Sir Tabasco approached the King, and said, "Your Majesty's howdah awaits for the grand parade."

Looking at himself gaily in the mirror, the King said, "Well, I suppose I'm ready."

His Majesty headed for the wooden boxes piled up as a makeshift steps beside an elephant.

Madame Conway and Lord Bannon approached the senators. She said, "Your task of being the Emperor's code bearer is now repealed." Ryan and Paul bowed, happy that they were replaced.

The two officials pretended to lift and hold the tablet high, never admitting that they had nothing in their hands. They sat behind the Emperor on the howdah, helping the King lift the tablet.

Ryan and Paul continued to step back until they disappeared underneath the shadows of huge stone pillars.

The trumpets growled and the drums rolled. Off went the procession. His Majesty, on the great red and blue howdah, nodded at the spectators on the street.

People looking out their windows said, "Oh, how fine the King's new codes look! Don't it fit him to perfection? See the long lines of diamonds and rubies."

Nobody confided that they saw nothing for that would speak volumes about how unfit they were for their job, or how unintelligent they were.

No code parade of His Majesty had been that well-cherished. 

"But he is holding nothing but air," a little lass wearing a plastic tiara said.

"Hillary, shush!" the father said, blushing. Turning to the moustached Latino beside him, he said, "Such an innocent prattle, don't you think?" 

An elderly fruit vendor who heard the daughter whispered to his customer, "A child says the King's hands are empty."

The woman passed on what she heard to another, and the rumors spread like wildfire.

Soon the whole kingdom was crying out loud, "But there's nothing in his hands!"

"Shame! Shame! Shame!" a group of onlookers started jeering.

The King's small hands quivered for he felt the people were right. His eyes searched for the tablet over his head. My hands are empty! He admitted to himself.

Nonetheless, his pride shielded him from shame. He shrugged, smiled, and rode proudly than ever. "The procession will go on," he ordered.

The noblemen walking before the elephant looked at each other, then paraded on. Their heads held high, smiling like marionettes.