The Round Table

I was currently standing up inside a colostomy station.  While I hated using them publicly, there was no other choice today.  I took off my shirt and undid my fake skin flap that was on the right side of my body.  Deep inside there was a hollow metal tube.  I grabbed the suction hose that was attached to the wall and applied one hundred percent pure alcohol all around the device.  I attached the suction device to my metal tube and slammed the large green button on the wall.

Immediately there was a large swishing sound as all my human waste was sucked out of my body.  I felt a tremendous sense of relief.

"How long had I been holding this inside," I said out loud to myself.

[Colostomy surgery is a common practice on the Ring, and most families will have their child taken in to do one when they are five years old.  Some families still prefer the natural way of producing waste, but most find it makes your body icky.  Another factor is that it is difficult to clean afterward considering that things like paper aren't mass produced on the Ring.  If you time your visits right, you only need to visit one about three times a day.  It is especially useful in a lab where you're hectic at work.  No one has time to go to the bathroom and wash their hands.  Of course those who stick to natural waste production have resorted to using cloth diapers.  And you're probably wondering what happened since that time in Central Park, huh?  Well, one week has passed since that incident.  Out of dignity, I don't really want to talk about it further.  But it seemed to work all out in the end.  Lady Freud was very proud of me for sticking up for myself.  She said that she saw me as a real man.  Can you imagine that?  Me?  I'm a real man now.]

I smiled to myself as I pressed the giant red button on the other side.  I unattached the device and applied more alcohol.   

********************

The calling had come and it was time for a meeting of all the High Lords.  I entered the elevator.  Inside there was a liftman.  He have me a slight bow and smiled.

Oh, how I hated people who pretended to be happy while they worked.  I really didn't want to converse with the man, but I had no choice.

"Top floor, I'm here for the calling."

"Sure thing, sir."  The man closed the lift gate, put a key in the elevator panel, and pushed the button to the one hundredth floor.

"How is your day, sir?  I hope you have found everything to your liking."

I gritted my teeth, "I'm absolutely fantastic."

 In less than a minute the elevator stopped.  The liftman opened the gate and gestured his hand for me to go outside.

"Not like I want to stay in there a moment longer with someone as happy as you are," I grumbled to myself as I marched down the long, narrow hallway.  There was a long red carpet leading to a large round wooden door.  Portraits of previous High Lords adorned the hallway.  Somewhere there was a portrait of my father and grandfather.  I dashed quickly so I would have to look at their faces.  Every time I passed, I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders.  Their eyes would pierce me, and they would judge me unfit.

"I hate it.  I hate it."  I said as I swung open the round doors into the chamber.

But that wasn't the end of it.  Now were the stairs.  One thousand red carpeted stairs in total.  I huffed and puffed my way up all the stairs, groaning and moaning in agony as I did.

The doctor had really done a number on me, so it was more painful than it usually was to go up all these stairs.

"I'll get that bastard yet.  He thinks he's seen the last of me....  Oh but he hasn't.  He'll rue the day he messed me with...  I almost tripped as I go half way up the stairs.  "Why do these stairs even exist?  Take an elevator one hundred floors up, then climb a bunch of stupid stairs."

Finally, I go to the top.  I threw myself down on my knees, clutched my chest, and spit and wheezed for the next five minutes.

"Praise Newton, it's over.  Oh, my, never again.  I swear this time I will convince them to get rid of those stairs.  Perhaps we can put a jet pack at the bottom.  Makes everyone's life so much better."

I stood up and went through a second set of round doors.  Inside was a giant circular table.  The Round Table, a relic from the era of King Arthur.  The table was made out of smooth ebony wood.  The table was evenly divided with low metal rails, meant to represent where each knight would place down their sword.  Of course no one here had such a crude weapon.

Around the table, there were thirteen chairs evenly spaced out.  In each seat sat a High Lord.  As usual, I was late, and sometimes I didn't even bother to show up.  I sat down on my chair and nodded for the lords to begin.

[From my closest left to my closest right, this is the order of the High Lords at the table: Marx, Hawking, Darwin, Einstein, Stalin, Jung, Plath, Copernicus, Washington, Freud, Hooke, and Pasteur.]

Lord Hawking stood up, "It took you so long.  We can now begin."  He said that with his robotic voice.  Lord Hawking, having cheated death in a way by having his consciousness copied into A.I. and placed inside a robotic body.  The real Hawking had died over a hundred years ago.  A.I. and robotics had been really taking off at the time.  And it was said that for the first twenty to fifty years that the robot functioned very well.  But through time and wear and tear, the program running in the massive square monstrosity was losing touch with reality.

 The robot body was nothing like the robotic companions we used in this day and age.  The ones we used now almost looked too human.  This was the complete opposite.  There was no mistaking that this was a robot.  

"We should really replace that seat with someone more suitable," I muttered to myself.

The square robotic head slowly turned towards me.  "There is no reason to be rude.  There is no reason to be rude.  Take it back.  BEEP."

I just looked at the robot and said nothing.  It quickly forgot that I had muttered anything and continued to talk.

"How did he even hear what I said?"  I decided to keep that question to myself this time.

"I have news," the robotic voice continued.

"Next Friday there will be a wedding.  All the High Lords will be invited.  You are invited.  You are invited to attend a wedding.  Please wear suitable attire..."

"Let me, Lord Hawking," that was Einstein.  He gestured for Hawking to sit down.  Thanks to him, we didn't need to let Hawking prattle on and on about nothing.

"My dear friend, John Kepler, has agreed to marry the Lady Freud.  As his best friend, it's sad to see him go, but we all knew this day must come.  I invite you all to attend my best friend's wedding.  It will be a grand occasion."

Hooke stood up.  He motioned for Einstein to sit down.  Hooke was an incredibly old man.  Both of his eyes were firmly closed, making it look like he might be blind.  He had a massive amount of wrinkles on his face and his cheeks puffed out like swollen oranges.

"Yes, yes indeed.  Good news.  But we have more pressing concerns.  It has come to my attention that a group calling themselves the Athenites is posing to challenge our living God."

Now, this would be an interesting discussion.  Lady Freud looked as intrigued as I was.  The others didn't look like they could be bothered, but I wanted to see what Hooke would say next.