How to Rescue a Dead Princess

by Jeff Strand

  Thump! The sound of somebody being hit. Randall sat up, listening intently.

  Thump! "Hit him again!" said a familiar voice, just around the corner. Thump! Thump! Thump! "You call that a hit? Let me show you." Thwack! "See? You need to tighten your fist more. Now you try it." Thump! "Tighter." Crunch! "Whoops. Was that your hand or his face?"

  "My hand."

  "Sorry about that. Is he unconscious yet?" Chomp!

  "Ow! Ow! Ow! Get him off me, get him off me!"

  Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

  "There we go. He's unconscious now."

  "What are you guys doing down here?"

  Thump! Thwack! Crunch! Chomp! Thwack! Spit! Gush!

  Silence.

  Then the four Ricks wandered down the aisle. "That's right," said Roderick. "Nobody messes with us."

  "We bad," Frederick agreed.

  Randall moved over to the bars and stuck his arm through, waving frantically. "Guys! Over here!"

  The Ricks hurried over to his cell. "Are you okay?" Maverick asked.

  "I'm fine," Randall assured him. "Thank goodness you guys showed up. Do you have the key to the cell?"

  "Oh, we're not here for you," said Roderick. "We want the necklace back. It was expensive."

  Randall stepped away from the bars. "You don't get the necklace until I get out of here."

  Frederick punched Roderick in the shoulder. "What did I tell you? Didn't I tell you not to be so blatant about the necklace thing? Didn't I?"

  "Well, I didn't think he'd be so stinky about it," said Roderick.

  "Check the guards we substantially injured," said Frederick. Rick nodded and went back the way they came.

  "After we get you out, you're coming with us to assassinate the king," Maverick told Randall. "Or else your friend here dies." He held up the jar containing Bug, who was lying on the bottom, unmoving.

  "It's already dead," said Randall, angrily. "I can't believe you guys! You killed an innocent bug! I hope you develop facial warts in the pattern of an obscene phrase!"

  Maverick tapped on the jar a couple times, then smacked his forehead in realization. "Air holes! I knew I was forgetting something, but I assumed it was a label."

  He removed the lid. Suddenly Bug sprung to life, flew out of the jar, and zipped off in the direction of the dungeon exit.

  "Look at that," said Maverick. "It's gone to the afterlife."

  "You cow chip, it's gone to get help!" snarled Roderick.

  "Run!" shouted Frederick.

  "No!" said Roderick. "We need the necklace for the ladies-only hot tub party." He looked at Randall. "Let me have it, and I promise we'll let you out afterward."

  "Sure thing," said Randall. "Not!"

  "Ah, the ol' unexpected last word reversal trick, huh? Listen, buddy, your only hope is to trust us."

  "I trust you about as far as I can shot-put a proboscid."

  "What's a proboscid?"

  "Any member of the mammalian order of large herbivores possessing a long and flexible trunk, incisors modified as tusks, and huge molars, some examples being the elephant and the now-extinct mastodon and woolly mammoth, all of which are unsuitable for shot-putting."

  Rick hurried back over to the group. "No keys!" he announced. "But I did catch a bug that looked just like the one we were keeping in the jar."

  "Good," said Roderick. "Where is it?"

  "I let it go. We already had one."

  Jack opened his eyes and sat up. "What's going on?"

  "We have to get out of here!" said Maverick. "If we get caught, we'll be executed along with Randall."

  Roderick stared at the necklace for a few seconds, then nodded. "All right, let's go. You're on my list, Randall." He slammed his fist against the cell door in frustration. It slid open.

  "It was never locked!" said Frederick, for the benefit of those who had trouble with eye-brain communication.

  "The guards here are big on trust," Jack told him.

  Roderick fumbled around in his robes for a moment, then took out a dagger. "Give me the necklace," he said.

  A voice sounded from the stairway: "I think the disturbance is coming from the dungeon area! But I guess we should do a thorough check of these stairs first, just to be safe."

  "There isn't time to waste!" said Roderick. "Give me the necklace! Now!"

  "You want the necklace? Come in here and fight me for it," said Randall.

  "Know what?" asked Maverick.

  "No, what?"

  "You're coming with us." Maverick, Frederick, and Rick also took out their knives as the four Ricks burst into the cell. Roderick and Maverick grabbed Randall by the shoulders, while Frederick and Rick took hold of Jack. Roderick grabbed the necklace and put it around his own neck. "C'mon!"

  The voice from upstairs sounded again. "Well, I don't see anything on the stairs, but there's no harm in double-checking."

  The group rushed forward, past the cells filled with soundly-sleeping prisoners. When they reached the end of the hall, they froze at the sight of the two guards on the staircase.

  "Don't move!" shouted the first guard.

  "Don't you move, either!" shouted Roderick.

  "I'm allowed to move. I'm a guard."

  Roderick pressed the tip of his dagger against the side of Randall's neck. "Let us pass or he dies!"

  "He's already set to die," explained the guard. "That's why I was coming downstairs, to bring him to the guillotine."

  Frederick pressed the tip of his own dagger against the side of Jack's neck. "All right, then let us pass or this prisoner dies!"

  "I think he means it!" said the second guard.

  Without warning, the first guard threw the spear he'd been carrying. It struck Frederick in the chest, causing him to drop his dagger and stumble backward, gasping.

  "Wow!" exclaimed the first guard. "First try!"

  "Frederick!" shouted Roderick.

  "Frederick!" shouted Maverick.

  "Maverick!" shouted Rick.

  "What?" asked Maverick.

  "Look what happened to Frederick!"

  Randall and Jack forgotten, the three Ricks hurried over to their comrade, who was still stumbling backward and gasping. His feet slipped, and he fell on his back, hands clenched around the spear.

  "I'm a goner," he said, weakly. "I can feel the life draining from my body..."

  "That's not your life," said Maverick, "that's blood." He considered that for a moment. "Oh, I see your point."

  "Didja see that?" the first guard asked his partner. "First try! You saw it, right? Did you see the way I threw that thing? Got him smack dab in the chest! Go, team, go!"

  Randall and Jack just stood there, unsure what they should be doing.

  "I know my time is drawing to a close," said Frederick. "At least I can go out knowing that I died for the Cause."

  "Well, not really," Maverick corrected. "We were just down here to get back the necklace." Roderick elbowed him in the ribs.

  "Goodbye, my friends!" Frederick said. "Oh, how I wish I would be there to see you all in your old age...to watch you get married, have children, share good times and bad..."

  "Could you maybe speed it up a bit?" Maverick asked. "Your last words are very important to us, but we kind of have a situation here."

  Frederick coughed. "I've still got a good three minutes left in me," he said.

  "We can't wait three minutes!" Roderick insisted.

  "A lifetime of friendship, and you won't stay with me three more minutes?" Maverick asked.

  "Okay, okay. Fine. Talk."

  The second guard nudged the first. "If you'd really hit him as well as you're bragging, he wouldn't have three minutes left."

  "Yeah? Well, let's see you try and hit one of them."

  The second guard flung his own spear at the Ricks. It missed Roderick, Maverick, and Rick, and struck Frederick in the chest two inches from the other spear.

  "There go my three minutes," winced Frederick, just before he died.

 
"You're pathetic," the first guard told his partner.

  "I know," the second guard admitted with a sniffle.

  The three Ricks turned around to face the guards. "We will have our revenge," said Roderick. "Someday soon. Just keep looking over your shoulder."

  The guards looked over their shoulders nervously.

  Roderick clapped his hands loudly, awakening the other prisoners. "Everyone upstairs! It's time for co-ed naked backgammon!"

  The prisoners burst out of their cells and surged forward, overwhelming the guards. Randall and Jack tried to escape, but the Ricks grabbed them by the shoulders again and forced them to move with the crowd. Right before they reached the stairs, they veered to the right, pushing through a hidden revolving door that led to another tunnel.

  "Frederick's passing was not in vain!" Roderick announced. "Tonight, King Irving dies!"

  Chapter 16

  Pre-Chapter-Seventeen Excitement

  "YOU CAN'T be serious!" Randall said. "An attempt on the king's life now is suicidal! We'll be captured for sure!"

  "I know what you're going to say," said Roderick. "You're going to tell me that an attempt on the king's life now is suicidal, and that we'll be captured for sure."

  "That's what I did say," Randall told him.

  "Oh. Sorry, I was a little distracted. No, this is the perfect moment to strike! The guards will be so concerned with the escaping prisoners that they won't be watching the king's chambers as closely! And we've got hostages!"

  Jack cleared his throat, "I wasn't going to say anything, but since you brought up the hostage situation, I was just wondering if I could leave, being redundant and all."

  "No."

  "Is that no meaning yes, or no meaning no? Hard to tell sometimes."

  Roderick gave him a dirty look, then proceeded down the tunnel. The others followed, Jack and Randall both with knives pressed against their backs.

  "Here's the plan," said Roderick. "We go to the trap-door underneath the king's bedroom. Rick, you'll stay down in the tunnel, while Maverick and I take Randall and...your name is?"

  "Jack."

  "Nice name. We'll take Randall and Jack up there with us. Maverick and I will flip a dvorkin, and the winner gets to go over and kill the king. Then we'll hurry back down into the tunnel, go back to our lair, and celebrate with bottled water and croutons. I mean it, Jack, that's a really nice name. Simple. Precise."

  "Why do all four of us need to be up there?" Randall asked.

  "Because if there are guards waiting, we need hostages to distract them with," said Roderick.

  "That would be you and Jack," Maverick explained.

  "What if the flipped dvorkin wakes up the king?" Jack asked.

  "Then we'll just have to kill him a little more quickly."

  "Why not just flip it before you go up into the bedroom?"

  "Do I tell you how to do your job?" Roderick demanded.

  "No...not that I recall..."

  "Then shut up."

  A few minutes later, they stopped underneath the trap-door labeled "The King's Bedroom." Roderick reached up, unhooked the latch, and the door swung downward. He retrieved a ladder that was resting against the wall and braced it firmly against the edge of the opening.

  "Only one person on the ladder at a time, for safety's sake," he whispered, as he began to climb.

  After Roderick had made it to the top, Maverick prodded Randall with the dagger. Randall climbed up the ladder as well, and found himself in the center of the king's immense lavatory.

  "Trap-door was mislabeled," Roderick grumbled.

  "I like those little soap animals," Randall commented.

  Jack emerged from the trap-door. "You mean to tell me the king sleeps amongst his chamber pots? How twisted!"

  "Quiet," said Roderick. "We're in the wrong room is all. Once Maverick gets up here, we'll all head over to the bedroom together."

  There was a loud snap down below, then a loud crunch that sounded suspiciously like Maverick's body slamming down upon the hard floor of the tunnel. They all rushed over to the trap-door and peered downward. Maverick lay on the floor, the broken ladder next to him, a trickle of blood running down the side of his mouth like incompetently-applied lipstick. Rick crouched next to him, helplessly.

  "I...did what you said," Maverick wheezed. "One at a time on the ladder...just like you told me..."

  "Maverick!" said Roderick. "Just stay calm! You're going to be okay!"

  Rick looked up at them and shook his head.

  "I'm sorry..." said Maverick, "I let you down. I haven't always been the greatest friend in the world, I know, but I'm going to become a better person in these last few moments before I die, I promise you that!"

  "Darn it, Maverick! We haven't got time for another death soliloquy!"

  The door to the lavatory swung open, and King Irving entered. Roderick, Randall, and Jack froze.

  "I can see now all the things I should have done with my life," said Maverick. "All the people I could have helped, all the--" He noticed Roderick's frantic gesturing to be quiet. "Oh, sorry."

  King Irving, half asleep, seemed unaware of their presence. He looked into the mirror and began plucking his eyelashes.

  "Is it clear?" Maverick asked from below. "Can I continue with my dying words?"

  "Shhhh! Not yet!" Roderick hissed.

  The king batted his eyelashes a few times, then staggered sleepily back into his bedroom.

  "Now?" asked Maverick.

  "Okay, now. But hurry up!"

  "I forgot what I was going to say."

  Roderick sighed with frustration. "These are your last words! Say something profound, for crying out loud!"

  "Ummmm...if you're going to stick your tongue in a woman's ear, make sure you have a Q-Tip handy."

  And then he died.

  "What's a Q-Tip?" asked Roderick.

  Rick shrugged. "Perhaps he saw into another world in those last seconds before he passed on?"

  "Nah. The guy was just delirious. We're going to need you up here, Rick."

  With Roderick keeping his dagger pointed at them, Randall and Jack helped pull Rick up into the lavatory. "Interesting bedroom decor," Rick said. "Almost creepy in a way."

  "Everyone be quiet," said Roderick. "We're heading through that door," he pointed to the door the king had gone through, "and then we're going to dispose of the tyrant. Let's go."

  Silently, they passed through the door and entered the king's bedroom. It was exquisitely furnished, with gold plating on everything from the bed frame to the royal slippers. There was a huge gold-plated chandelier in the shape of several gout-suffering mermaids hanging from the ceiling, just perfect for dropping on somebody's head if the situation got tense.

  Jack glanced up at the chandelier. "That's probably the ugliest piece of decor I've ever seen in my life. But I guess everyone's entitled to their own lack of taste."

  King Irving lay in his bed, sleeping soundly, surrounded by a collection of stuffed animals that made Randall twitch with envy. Roderick went over to the window and held up his knife so that the moonbeam made the blade shine dramatically.

  "Nice touch," admitted Randall.

  "Since Maverick's dead, I'll do the honors," said Roderick, moving with great stealth toward the king's bed. He stopped right next to where the king lay sleeping, then slowly moved the blade toward his exposed throat.

  "Ow!" Rick cried out, falling to the ground. "A splinter! I stepped on a splinter!"

  "Quiet!" Roderick said. "You'll wake him up!"

  Rick pulled off his shoe. "Look at it!" he said. "It's sticking right out of my little toe." He gazed at Roderick soulfully. "I guess that's it for me. I lived a good life, haven't I?"

  "Give me a break, you whiny little cross-section of bat guano!" said Roderick. "It's a lousy splinter!"

  "Shock can be just as bad as the physical injuries," Rick told him. "I know I didn't accomplish everything I wanted to during my stay on this world, yet I feel a certain satisfa
ction when I look back at what I have done."

  "Shut up!" shouted Roderick. "Just shut up! I haven't got time to listen to this! I'm trying to kill a king here!"

  "I know it's none of my business," said Jack, "but you might want to give some consideration to the current volume level of the discussion."

  A tear trickled down Rick's cheek. "Hold me, Roderick. I'm cold. So cold."

  "I'm in the middle of something!"

  "Please, Roderick! It's my last request!"

  Muttering surprisingly vulgar things under his breath, Roderick walked over to Rick and crouched down next to him. "Okay, okay, what do you want me to do?"

  "I don't want to die with that thing in me," Rick said. "Please, take it out. I can't stand the pain, please, just pull it out."

  Roderick reached over and plucked the splinter out of his toe. Rick began to breathe in huge, agonized gasps.

  "Can I go kill the king now?" Roderick asked.

  "I've always respected you," said Rick. "In fact...I think I may even have loved you. Purely platonic, but still impressive considering how rarely we sat down and really talked to one another."

  "Good. I love you too. Get on with it."

  "Won't you hug me?"

  "Oh, for crying out loud, man! Do you understand the concept of 'bad timing?'"

  "Just one hug...then I can die in peace."

  "Go on, give the poor guy a hug," Jack urged.

  The king let out a snore, then rolled over in bed.

  "All right," said Roderick. "One hug. Then whether you're dead or not, I'm going to slit the tyrant's throat." He lifted Rick to a sitting position, then gave him a tender hug.

  "Thank you," said Rick. "Now I'm at peace, and can die."

  "When?"

  "Any day now."

  Roderick released the hug, dropping Rick on his back. His head struck the floor much harder than Roderick had intended. Randall quickly knelt down and checked for a heartbeat.

  "Nice move," he said.

  "Is he dead?"

  "Close enough."

  Roderick stood up. "Forget it. He was a goober anyway. And now, the moment we've all been waiting for..."

  "Stop!" ordered Randall, also standing up. He held Rick's dagger. "If you want to kill the king, you're going to have to go through me!"