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Chapter Forty-Three: The Results of Dinkplutter's Royal Advice (You Knew it was Going to Happen).

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And as all of you have hopefully and probably figured out was going to be the case by this point, as soon as the king had gotten out of sight and range of the city, old Dinkplutter Bump the royal advisor had all of the people of Mirrglbury gather in that same old courtyard where everything seems to happen anymore, and he announced to all of them that, very sadly for all of them, himself most especially, their charming young king had been killed in a hunting accident that very morning - gored to death by a jackalope, then devoured by its adorable and fuzzy little offspring, which looked like baby bunnies because they hadn't yet grown their horns. So there was no body for him to show them, so sorry. But the beloved king's last words had of course been - no, really? I never guessed - that he, Dinkplutter Bump, the royal giver of advice to the king, was to be the next king upon his (Jorkulhaup's) untimely death. And so it was with great sorrow and solemnity that he fulfilled his final promise to the young king upon the young king's bedside at the young king's death and took up the royal crown which that same young - now dead - king had so recently - and conveniently - vacated. He hoped that everyone was okay with it. They were.
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