Once upon a time, in a land far away, there lived an ogre named Shrump. Although he was the richest ogre in the land, and his hovel was decorated with real gilt tin foil and imported moss, he was a miserable bastard. He hated everybody but the few other rich ogres, and he only liked them because they paid to play “gorf” with him, which was a game played by using a wooden stick to whack rocks that hit people on the head, or flew through their windows.
But there were two things that Shrump hated more than anything else. First, he hated the brown people. Sometimes they hid out in his swamp on the way from where they came from to the villages and towns, where they would get jobs cleaning out barns, and scything hay, and all the other jobs nobody in the shire wanted.
But the thing that Shrump hated most was the Shire King. He wasn’t green, but he wasn’t brown either, he was darker, and his people had come even before the brown people. Shrump couldn’t stand him. Shrump tried to tell everybody that the King was an imposter, he wasn’t even from the shire, he had gotten a phony set of papers in an alley, and nobody could ever remember seeing him in the academy he said he went to. The shire folk all laughed at Shrump, but the other ogres nodded their heads and thought that Shrump was on to something.
The Shire residents liked their rulers in small doses, so every four years they spent a day picking a new one. Shrump saw his chance, and decided to become the new King, He promised that he would round up all of the brown people and send them back where they came from, and build a high, great wall to keep them from coming back and pestering the shire residents everagain. The poorer residents, who hated the brown people for doing all of the shit jobs that they wouldn’t do themselves loved this. If there was one thing that a lot of people in the shire hated to do, it was to get up for work in the morning, so Shrump promised to outlaw alarm clocks and “Make the Shire Late Again!”.
Because it was such an important job, a lot of other people wanted to be King too, but Shrump knew what to do. He did the same thing he always did when someone didn’t agree with him. He yelled at the top of his lungs, and called the other candidates nasty names. When they tried to make Shrump look stupid by talking about things he didn’t understand, he made up nasty shit about them, trying to make them look bad, and forcing them to stop talking about issues important to the shire residents to defend themselves from his lies. One by one his opponents fell by the wayside, until Shrump was the only one left.
In the general election Shrump ended up facing off with the Grand Dame of the Shire. She was wise, having spent years and years helping previous Kings, and even the current King to run the Shire as smoothly as possible. There was no way for Shrump to compete with this, so he did what he always did, he yelled at the top of his lungs, called her nasty names, and made up nasty, vicious shit about her. Having been in Shire politics for a long time, none of this bothered the Grand Dame, and she just went on making Shrump look like a fool.
On election day it wasn’t even close. The people of the shire voted in much larger numbers for the Grand Dame. But in a stunning turn of events, a small group of officials, called the “Shire Election Busybodies” decided that just enough people in a few scattered places voted for Shrump for him to be the Shire King.
Most of the people of the Shire were mickle unhappy. On the day he took over, they stayed away from his Takeover Ceremony in droves, and nobody wanted to come and entertain him and his boorish supporters at their parties. In a fury, Shrump had his favorite lackey, the Shire Herald pronounce that King Shrump had gotten the largest crowd in Takeover Day history, and that was all there was to it. The next day, the people of the Shire showed King Trump what crowds really look like, showing up at rallies all across the shire in numbers much larger than his puny ceremony to show how they really felt about him.
King Shrump had always thought that the King’s job was largely phone in work, you posed smiling for a lot of pictures, told somebody else what to do , and then went to play gorf. So he got his favorite swamp creatures to come to Shire City to do the actual work when he told them to. But it turned out that Shrump had no idea, Kings actually had to make decisions, and they had to ask other people elected to help run the Shire to help them do things. Shrump had never asked anybody else to help him do something in his life, and it turned out he wasn’t very good at it. The other people elected to help run the shire didn’t like him any more that the shire residents did. Nothing was getting done.
But the worst thing about being King was that nobody liked him! He had only become king so that everybody in the shire wold love him for his YUGE brain, and for how brilliant he was, and instead, all they did was to make fun of him and show up in large numbers to scream about everything he tried to do. As a result, Shrump spent more and more time taking the Royal Carriage down to his vacation hovel in Far-A Slobo to eat overpriced fried food and play gorf with all of the people who wanted things from him, and were willing to pay to talk to him. It turned out that the people who would pay ended up being the only people who would talk to him. And he lived miserably ever after.
Children, the moral of the story is to be careful what you wish for, and to always be careful, because no matter how silly and foolish an idea may seem, there will always be people out there who are willing to try it.