Between Bret Favre and the twenty-sixth king of Mirrglbury, who also happened to be the ill-fated mother of Denise Ugluk Sneferu and her sisters, there was exactly one king, and no more, whose life was interesting enough to warrant our discussing it here in this story at the present moment. And that would be a young man by the name of Jorkulhaup Bortvelding (pronounce YO-koll-ahp BUTT-weld-een), who happened to actually have done some interesting things during the course of his lifetime. He took his heritage seriously, and, according to him, he could trace his family line and ancient ancestors or whatever all the way back to that great and wondrous original founder of that great and wondrous state of Mirrglbury, Bruce Wendell Frogman the Third. When people told Jorkulhaup Bortvelding that Bruce Wendell Frogman the Third had left no living descendents, by which they meant that the Frogman line had died out many hundreds of years before Jorkulhaup was even conceived of in the head of some future-gazing scholastic mind, and that Jorkulhaup could therefore not be descended from Bruce Wendell Frogman the Third at all. But if you were to tell that incorrigible young man as much, he would become very defensive and go into a long tirade describing marriages and second cousins and various rules of primogeniture and so on and so forth until you would be unable to even so much as walk straight, much less be able to think straight. And so it was that very few people attempted to disabuse young Jorkulhaup Bortvelding of the notion which he had so firmly entrenched in the fibers of his young brain that he was descended from the founder of Mirrglbury, if only spiritually or something like that. Although publicly he insisted that the connection was purely genetic, even if he did happen to be down with that whole adventure thing, and especially the whole dying young bit along with it. And as for the whole familial descent connection thing between them, well, it's just way the hell too complicated for us to deal with at the moment, so let us simply suffice it to say that the matter was a point of debate (even if it wasn't) and one which could never actually find resolution - indeed, one which has, even in this present day, not found solution. And so I am afraid that I will have to simply declare this yet another of those great and terrible unsolvable mysteries of the universe. So. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.
Unless you don't smoke. Because really you shouldn't, at least not very often, because you could easily cause yourself to get lung cancer or emphysema, which are both pretty darn nasty ways to die. So in that case, well, I don't know what you want to do with it, but you don't have to smoke it if you don't want to, honest. I'm not going to force you to do something that you don't want to do. And you should never let anyone do that to you, ever, you know. Because that's not okay. So. Don't let people make you do things that you don't want to do.
Jorkulhaup Bortvelding spoke quietly to his chief minister of the giving of advice to the king, who was also known as the royal chief advisor, whose name was Dinkplutter Bump and who was an older man who had been chief royal advice-giver man to these past three kings, which made him way too old to still be alive, and yet he was still alive after all of these years. And said the young king Jorkulhaup to the chief advisor person Dinkplutter, "My most esteemed chief royal giver of advice to the king, please tell me, if it is within your desire, for certainly it lies within your power, o wisest honored one, of how I may become a hero and a person who has many interesting adventures, that I may not suffer that same sickening fate what fell upon my most unfortunate yet dearly esteemed predecessors in this glorious office, that is, that my reign might be recalled in the years to come by future generations on into the eternal unseen future as a great and heroic reign worthy of songs and tales, rather than a reign so easily written off as not worthy of even the slightest footnote of a mention due to its sheer and desperate lack of event. I have no wish to join the honored company of my dear ancestors in that respect. I would rather be as my true ancestor and father of my soul, the great Bruce Wendell Frogman the Third, whose life and deeds are still spoken of to this day, so many hundreds of years after he once walked this fair land. Please, o wise royal advisor, tell me how this may be done."
Then the royal advisor Dinkplutter Bump furrowed his brow and fell into a deep and serious period of deep and serious thought on how he might be able to answer the young king's posed query, and how he might at that same young king in his (the king's) quest for greatness and memorableness. Dinkplutter the advisor thought on this topic for a very long time, but then one day, after many weeks - or maybe it was months, it's just amazing how the time flies, and it's simply impossible to keep proper track of - he finally had reached his conclusions and he went to visit King Jorkulhaup Bortvelding and to tell him of the answers to his questions that he had given him (the chief advisor).
"My royal majesty the king," said Dinkplutter Bump in an old and wise sounding quiet voice to the young man in question, "I am of the belief that I have finally, at long, long last, arrived myself at an answer for how you are to become brave and famous in a land where the rulers seem perpetually doomed to lead lives of mediocrity and dullness, and where there are no enemies for you to go to war with and subsequently conquer in a glorious and triumphant celebration of the utter superiority of our own fair nation of Mirrglbury over our weak and inaffective neighbours, who would then be a part of what would then be a glorious and fair Empire of Mirrglbury. But as that cannot be done, I have thought of some possible solutions to your despicable and unfortunate quandary of destiny and the creation and control thereof, and they are as I will exposite upon directly, by which I mean I will tell you what they are in just the tiniest of moments. And they are as follows."
He paused to take a deep and relaxing breath, then exhaled slowly, nodding softly, while young King Jorkulhaup Bortvelding watched him doing all of this, his own self not relaxed at all or breathing deep, but instead hardly breathing at all because he was in an agony of suspense because the advisor Dinkplutter Bump took an extremely outrageously long time to actually say anything... rather like to some other people that I, and maybe you as well, may well be able to think of. People like, say... well, I won't mention any names. It might hurt their feelings. Though I doubt it. But certainly you know of what I am alluding to, even if you can't figure out who I am alluding to, which would be really sad because it's kind of really freaking obvious. So. But anyhow. The advisor took a big deep breath and then turned to the king and cleared his throat and began to speak.