Tomorrow is April Fool's Day. Woo Hoo! In honor of this silly day, I've written a story for you. It's not exactly an original. Have you ever heard the story of The Emperor's New Clothes? Well, this is just an updated version of that. Hope you enjoy! Happy April Fools!
The Emperor's New Digs
- Short story by Bryon Cahill
Many, many years ago there lived a dude. The dude’s name was Calvin but everyone called him the Emperor. He obtained his self-proclaimed royal nickname when he won the lottery. But it wasn’t just any lottery. Calvin won the largest prize money in the history of legalized gambling. After taxes, he took home a little over $14 billion.
"Dude," his best friend Roy said upon hearing the news. "Did you say billion? Like, with a B?"
"Totally man, billion! Fourteen of ‘em!" Calvin was in awe of himself. "Oh, and don’t call me Dude anymore. Call me… The Emperor."
"OK dude… I mean, The Emperor." Roy didn’t care if it was ridiculous. His friend was a billionaire! He’d address him as the Pope if that’s what he wanted to be called. "Well what do you want to do with the money first?"
"Roy," the Emperor said as he looked around his cramped and ugly studio apartment, "I gots ta get me some new digs."
"Right on, man. Definitely!" Roy said and high-fived The Emperor.
After a brief, idiotic display of air guitar and head-banging, The Emperor came back to his senses and dug the phone book out from under a pile of garbage on the floor. He flipped through the yellow pages and looked under H for House Builders. "Wait, house builders? No, man, look under C for contractors!" Roy stated proudly, as if it was the first three syllable word he had ever uttered.
The Emperor called up three contractors before he realized that first he needed an architect to draw up a design. He then called up three architects before he realized that he first needed to know what kind of a house he wanted. "A big one." He shouted into the phone, "A really really big one!" But the architects he was dealing with were not professionals. They needed more to go on. They needed ideas and The Emperor had none. "What are we going to do?" The Emperor asked Roy. "Who would have thought that winning the lottery would be such a bummer!"
"What you need is someone to make your decisions for you," Roy said. "That way, you could just sit back and chill and not worry about a thing."
"That would be sweet!" The Emperor said. "Roy, I appoint you as my royal decision maker." Calvin certainly wasn’t royalty, but Roy didn’t split hairs. He saw his opportunity and he seized it. His eyes were hazed over with the green green of money money.
"All right then, The Emperor, leave everything to me." Roy spoke with a sinister grin on his face but the Emperor did not notice. He was too busy not having a thought in his head.
