Read Online A Game of Groans: A Sonnet of Slush and Soot by George R.R. Washington Alan Goldsher - Free Book Online

“Goofrey Barfonme and Sasha Barker is a match made in heaven.”
    Juan frowned. “Or infierno .” 16

ALLBRAN
    Letting loose a series of prickly tush toots that were felt two floors below, Allbran Barker stared out the window and sighed. There on the front lawn stood Bobb and Juan, shooting arrows at a newly constructed mud statue that looked suspiciously like Goofrey Barfonme. Juan’s aim was slightly better than Bobb’s, and every time Bobb missed, he would snarl, “ Bastard, ” to which Juan would respond, “You mean jerkoff . ” Allbran had no idea what they were talking about, but he did not care; all he wanted was to join his brothers in their adventures. Unfortunately, he knew that this was not to be, partly because he was a little boy, and partly because of his uncontrollable flatulence.
    He tried to manage his gastrointestinal issues, Allbran did, following the advice given to him by Summerseve’s best doctors: Eat lots of raw onions. To Allbran, it felt like the vegetable compounded the problem, but he did not want to anger his parents, so he choked down one huge onion with each meal. He knew it made him unpleasant to smell both coming and going, but maybe someday the treatment would work.
    Suddenly bored with his bedroom, Allbran hopped out of his window and pulled himself up to the castle’s roof. The roof was his home away from home, a place where he could be alone with his thoughts and his farts, a place where nobody would tease him for being small and smelly, a place where he could be himself.
    Allbran noticed that Bobb and Juan had ceased their archery and were riding their respective direpandas. He shook his head, knowing that he would never mount his pet Hinky, because that would be degrading, and if anybody knew what it was like to be degraded, it was Allbran. Bobb and Juan’s direpandas eventually got fed up with the state of affairs, so they bucked off their riders and ran off toward town, with Bobb and Juan following close behind. Again bored, Allbran wandered along the perimeter of the castle roof, balancing on the ledge as if he were an expert ledge-balancer.
    Right as he turned the gargoyled corner, Allbran heard two voices from below, one a man’s, and one a woman’s. The voices both sounded snobby, tinged with a sense of self-entitlement that made him cringe. The man said, “No way that Headcase Barker could be a good Foot. He governs like a dodo bird flies: badly.”
    The woman said, “Do you realize just how horrible your metaphors are?”
    “My metaphors are fine,” the man complained. “They’re like muddy flowers on a warm Summer day.”
    “Just stop,” the woman exhaled, then, after a pause, added, “I can’t argue with your assessment of the current regime. Taxes are up, unemployment is up, and interest rates are up.”
    The man said, “The populace seems happy…”
    The woman interrupted, “The populace, the populace, it’s always about the populace. You can’t be a good leader if you spend all your time worrying about the populace. Look at King Goerge at House Busch. He doesn’t give two shits about the populace, and House Busch is the wealthiest region in Easterrabbit. When you become Goofy’s Foot, you should get the little prick to emulate King Goerge.”
    “Good idea. Hey, have you spoken to Aunt Millye and Uncle Iryving?”
    “No. I owe them a ravengram.”
    “Well, you don’t have to worry about that.”
    “Why?” the woman asked.
    “They’re waiting for us back at the castle.”
    The woman groaned. “They always show up without sending us a ravengram beforehand. We’re never prepared.” She paused, then asked, “Speaking of prepared, what’s going on down there? Something bothering you?”
    “What?” the man chuckled, sounding nervous to Allbran’s ear. “Bothering me? Nothing’s bothering me at all. I’m good. As a matter of fact, I’m great .”
    “That what’s the holdup?”
    “I’m tired,” the man whined. “I can’t