Stories from the Kingdom of Klah

Paul had been playing the piano for quite some time now, but he had no idea if he was any good. He knew that sometimes people could be deluded about their talents, but how did one know if that were so - for he had also heard of the dreaded Low Self Esteem that could plague creative geniuses.

He tried to look for signs and noticed that birds always flew away when he started playing, but then again they could just be jealous of his perfect rhythm and spectacular melodies, or perhaps the tune of his music tended to remind them of appointments they were late for.

He wheeled his piano to the beach and put on a concert for a colony of seals and they clapped, but then they clapped at drifting seaweed and bucket sandcastles, neither of which in Paul’s opinion had any artistic merit.

Paul suffered many sleepless nights and frittered away many gloriously sunny days tossing and turning in his lair before he realized there was only one thing he was sure of, and that was that when he played, his heart and fur and soul and toe-claws all sang along too, and he may as well continue his public performances until either someone invited him onto Klah Idol or threw a fish pie in his face.

Captain Lilith, the well known seafaring celebrity + pirate heroine was recently awarded the prestigious Queens Award for Piratical Services to the Kingdom, in recognition of her brave and fearless capture of 72 Magnet-Fingered, Saw-Toothed Pirate Squid. The crew of mischievous squid have been terrorising the seas of Klah for many years by slithering under ships and using their magnet fingers to draw out metal chests of treasure, expensive iron frying pans, electric guitars, several thousand sets of tweezers and passengers with too many fillings. All this bounty is drawn out through holes they have nibbled in the hull of the boat using their saw teeth, and thus the boat normally sinks without so much as a good deck brawl.

“Terrible pirating practice” says Captain Lilith. “It’s cheating, and not in an acceptable piratical fashion either. The scallywags were difficult to catch – every time I got near, my cutlass was whipped out of my hands and my canons malfunctioned. In the end I used a pandemonium of parrots, assisted by monkeys riding on their backs to drop a metallic net on the scoundrels. That snaffled them jolly good.”

Bathinbask Spit (aerial view). A popular swimming spot for local Klahtians, particularly since the unfortunate Princess Lazikan bathed and basked for far too long and eventually shrivelled into a small piece of charcoal. Somehow this has resulted in a rush in families visiting the area for their summer holidays. For those interested, the piece of Princess Lazikan charcoal can be found on display at the local Bathinbask Museum.

Those of you outside of Klah may be unfamiliar with the festivities of Klahmas on December 25th, a national holiday where citizens gobble large quantities of small cakes, dance the Jangjilly jive and give each other magnificent gifts such as ear-trumpets, spangly hoof-warmers & chocolate flavoured salad servers.

The Jangjilly Jive is an important part of the celebrations, and for weeks beforehand, citizens begin doing warm up stretches in preparation, and tailors make a fortune repairing ripped pantaloons as people overestimate their athletic abilities.

The Kingdom of Klah has received several letters from citizens concerned that they can’t remember the correct order of Jive moves, and relaying horror stories of poorly timed kicks knocking cakes and hats and great-aunts flying, so we asked renowned dancer Horatio Simpopple to provide a demonstration of the traditional dance:

The Mark of the Citizens of the World, which welcomes those migrating, and those that have to leave their homes for various reasons. Beyond entrances displaying the sign, such people can expect to find compassion and assistance for their difficult journey. Although Klah is home to a magnificently diverse population that has historically always been equal regardless of the shape of their hands or the colour of their flippers, and who have always been free to flow from home to home just as a river changes course – more recently there has been some unpleasant discussion on the movement of peoples, an ugly muttering with the potential to spark a fire of fear and burn Klah to the ground. This tension has been brought on by environmental events such as the mysterious drainage of southern sea caves, as well as conflicts in the east between Evergreen and Deciduous trees, who cannot seem to agree on life philosophies, and has resulted in the displacement of many creatures.

The ancient Mark of the C.o.t.W has experienced a dramatic comeback recently, as citizens everywhere employ it in a commendable effort to visibly counteract the ugly mutterings and embrace their fellow siblings of Klah. “My heart feels swizzlated whenever I see the Mark”, says Engelbert Boterham,  a young tree-dwelling citizen displaced by the eastern conflicts, on the road to a new home of unknown destination. “I have always believed the gloriousness at the heart of Klah is the understanding that all walks of life have hopes, and dreams, and feelings. People were letting these mutterings fog their minds of this equation, and its answer, compassion. To me the Mark shines back through like a glorious beacon, and I jig when I see it, which means I’m now jigging a lot, which is also fantastic.”