A Medieval Night

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A Medieval Night…In Arabia Essay, Research Paper A Medieval Night… In Arabia. By Wade Cleland It’s a good story, isn’t it…(or BOOM!) (Inside Joke) Steven of Kingsley walked along the dark Jerusalem street. It is the Second Crusade into the Holy Land and the Christians have taken the holy city. Steven is the youngest of three brothers and is also the least intelligent, so naturally he is in command of a large number of troops . It is a sweltering night, the stars glisten against a navy blue background as a salt breeze flows in from the Mediterranean Sea. Steven strolls beside brown, baked mud houses and taverns, looking for a place to get a cup of wine and mingle with the inhabitants. He steps into a dimly lighted tavern and coughs as the scent burning rope seizes

his nostrils. A large group of robed men sit around a hearth, cross-legged on heavy rugs. Each has a strange pipe clamped between his lips and a slightly glazed look to his eyes. Steven is quite uneducated about narcotics and asks to join them. The men laugh and inquire to his sanity. “A Christian wants to share a pipe with his enemies,” one slurs, “Are we Indians smoking peace pipes?” Another replies, “What are you talking about?” “I’m not sure why I said that…-But that’s not the point. He is our enemy,” the other replies. “It is discount Tuesday!” a third cries, “Opium at 50% off. Let us forget our differences and share some magic feel-good leaf.” The rest agree and Steven joins them. He seizes a pipe and takes a deep pull. A minute later he lets

out the smoke to amused cheers and laughter. Hours later Steven is stumbling home trying to catch that darn whale when he slams into something very hard. Dazed, he looks up into a familiar face. Where had he seen that face before? Oh, well, it’s probably not important anyway. “You are in a terrible condition, Sir Knight.” a commanding voice said, “Do you not recognize your own king?” Steven squints- how bright it gets at night!- he dimly recalls the face of King Richard II, the Lionheart. “Shorry Majestik, I sheem to be a tid bid tipshy…” he slurs, “Hey did you know that Robin Hood is fighting an evil sheriff down Sherwood way- yep! Shaw thuh movie…” “Movie?” Richard asks, “What is this movie you speak of, and how would you know about Sherwood-

that’s back in England?” “Well, you look at dis big shiny parchment, then you insert a magikuhl thing called a “tape”. This “tape” will then cause people to dance on the parchment like a magikikikual-type play.” “What!?! You are confounded sir knight: guards! Seize this drunken hooligan and imprison him!” “Hey- hee hee- I’m not drunk. I’m uh…stoned, yeah, stoned! Thatsh what thosh Arab guys said…” “Traitor! Now ye shall surely die!” exclaims Richard. Now at this very moment the same opium-influenced Arabs were walking nearby. Hearing the commotion they rushed to their new friend’s aid, killing the guards and capturing the king. “Ah! I do be knowing what to do!” said one Arab, “We will hide in a small rural farm and hold the king

ransom!” “Nah- no good!” a raspy voice calls from the shadows. A man in strangely swirled tan and brown clothes carrying a funny black stick with a handle on one end and a hole in the other emerges. “They’d have the SWAT team and the helicopters on you in no time.” The strangely dressed man motions for them to follow. He leads them through the basement of a building down into a secret underground cave. They climb into some sort of wheeled carriage with sticks on top. Suddenly the sticks begin to twirl and a loud noise envelops the cavern. Steven Immediately swore never to smoke that funny tobacco again when he thought he was flying through the air. (He also wishes he knew what tobacco was so he could distinguish it from the funny stuff.) After emptying his stomach