Game 4Game 4 Outline| Game 4 |
Game 4 Outline |
Prince Shane continues to gasp. You soon intuit that you are fighting against more than a curse. Remembering the etiquette book, you realize that you are also battling the ingrained composure that is second nature to royalty and aristocracy. An observer from outer space would be able to tell which members of the crowd laughing wildly on the floor were members of the nobility and which were commoners by the gentility of their conduct; even having hysterics reveals social class and you even think to yourself for a moment that the Chamberlain's uncontrollable squealing is the most refined sound you've heard in your life. In the case of Prince Shane, surely his placidity of manner has been bred into him so thoroughly that even the intense tickling power of the mighty Geagle feather will not achieve an easy victory.
For some few minutes the prince continues to gasp. Nothing more happens. You can see he's trying to let himself laugh. Maybe a little encouragement would help him, you think. But the thought of teasing Prince Shane while you tickle his feet feels too ridiculous, and you can't do it.
Prince Shane mutters to himself some words you can't catch. Then he says something, but the only words you can make out are, "fifteen minutes." Then a definite giggle forces its way through his lips.
It takes a few moments of further gasping for another staccato giggle to emerge, but knowing it will helps you relax as you work the Geagle feather all over Shane's barefeet. His little one-syllable barked giggles come at shorter intervals. Gradually they become two-syllable giggles. As the prince's laughter loses its quality of sounding like a polite response to an ambassadorial joke, you can sense the ice of his regal self-control cracking. His laughter quickens and grows increasingly informal. You sense the Geagle feather increasing in potency as it takes control of both you and Prince Shane's bare royal feet. Then as you feel the feather reaching it full power, the prince's laughter becomes continuous, sounding exactly like the reactions of any of your friends being tickle-tortured.
As you continue tickling Prince Shane's feet, you notice that the hysteria of the crowd seems proportionately less as the prince's laughter increases. As the minutes go by, half your mind is on tracing the impeccable bloodlines that produced the impressively massive and blatantly regal feet you're tickling, so that you don't hear their roar quietly subside as Prince Shane's grows. You're enjoying yourself enough to be glad that what the prince probably said was that you should be sure to keep him laughing for at least fifteen minutes. And you've done so for about that time when the Chamberlain, fully restored to dignity (along with the rest of the crowd), comes up to you.
"I believe you have effected the cure," says the Chamberlain. You agree. Reluctantly you force yourself to remove the Geagle feather from contact with Prince Shane's feet. It takes quite an effort on your part, in fact. The feather quite definitely does not want to lose contact, and you can't blame it. But you wrest it away, and the Chamberlain takes it to a ceremonail mount on the wall.
The Chamberlain returns to you before you notice something that ought to have been quite obvious. You were watching the guards and courtiers restoring themselves to composure, and somehow overlooked the curious fact that Prince Shane has not stopped laughing. If anything, he's become even more hysterical.
The Chamberlain looks alarmed, and asks, "How long did you tickle His Highness' barefeet?"
"He said something about fifteen minutes, so I made sure to keep it up at least that long. It was probably closer to twenty," you reply.
"Oh, dear," says the Chamberlain, "you were supposed to be sure to stop just before fifteen minutes. The Geagle feather is too powerful for even a prince to be able to withstand it for more than fifteen minutes. Now His Highness won't be able to stop laughing unless we can think of something brilliant. I knew this idea was too dangerous. And we only have an hour before His Highness will transform!"
"Transform into what?" you ask.
Written by stephan
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