King Freddie tries to cheat at Tiddlywinks
King Freddie liked to participate in the annual national tiddlywinks championships, but Prime Minister Merlin the Whirlin used to beat him. The king consulted the coach of the Tiddlywinks English national team, Archibald Winky-Green, and convinced him to travel to Denmark to buy a Copenhagen clip, a special squidger designed to help the tiddlywinker but illegal outside of Denmark. Winky-Green landed in Denmark with a bag of gold sovereigns, but doubted their value because each one was stamped with an image of Freddie’s head.
Once out of the carriage, Winky-Green hurried to the Danish Institute for Ballistic Research and asked to see the director. She was unlucky, the director was away attending an international conference to prepare an arms limitation treaty related to ballistae and other large rock projection devices. Who is in charge in his absence? Winky-Green asked. ‘You can see the head of our Technology Department at Tiddlywinks,’ the smiling receptionist said, and he was ushered into an office with ‘Dr. Adalbert’ at the door.
‘I understand you are the coach of the England national tiddlywinks team,’ said Dr Adalbert, ‘what brings you to Copenhagen? Not on a spy mission, I hope.
‘Oh no! It’s just that his Royal Highness King Freddie the Nth would like to buy one of his clips from Copenhagen.
‘Are you planning on participating in the national championships next week?’
His Majesty is a consummate player.
‘Especially if you have an illegal quasi-squidger.’
It is not illegal in Denmark.
‘I thought the competition was in London.’
‘Well yes, but you know how kings are.’
‘I won’t sell you a genuine clip, we can’t condone cheating, but I’ll let you have a deactivated replica for ten gold sovereigns as long as you melted them down before payment.’
Despite another half hour of spirited negotiation, that was the best deal Winky-Green could get. He left the school and walked dejectedly to the nearest coffee shop, unaware that he was being followed by an old man in a faded and worn cape. Later, as he walked out of the cafeteria and into a dimly lit alley, the old man blocked his way and said in a barely audible whisper, “Want to buy one of the real ones?”
“If you mean a clip from Copenhagen, then yes, I’m interested.”
Will cost.
‘How many?’
Two of those disgusting English gold coins.
‘Show me the clip?’
‘Here it is.’
‘How do I know it’s genuine?’
“Try it with this wink,” the old man said, kneeling on the ground. Winky-Green knelt beside him and sampled a squid or two and was immediately convinced that this was the real McCoy. “Here are three of the filthy English gold coins,” he said quietly, and gratefully pocketed the fully active Copenhagen charger. He couldn’t wait to rush back to London and tell King Freddie of his success.