Home > Cuisine by Brian Schropp > Blood on the Crown, Part II

Blood on the Crown, Part II

Brian Schropp

Brian Schropp


There was a murder in the courtyard and chaos ensued. The Master Chef who had created the ‘Crown of Frankfurters’ had been stabbed in the back when the lights went out in the midst of a grand celebration. All those lovely people in their fancy renaissance outfits were now screaming and pushing fellow court members out of the way to make a quick exit. Trampled gowns, trampled foam swords, tears, black eyes. I managed to make it to the platform where ‘The King’ and ‘The Queen’ still stood.


‘The Crown of Frankfurters’

The King was shaking his head solemnly. “It’s really no use all of them running, security would have closed the castle walls. Only a few will be able to scale the wall itself before the spikes go up.”
“Why would someone kill the chef?” I asked, the little hotdogs that were still left jangling from my jester’s hat.

One of the ‘King’s Guard’ (a fat guy in a yellow t-shirt that said ‘security’) brought up the crown and placed it in the King’s hands. He raised it so the light would make the frankfurters sparkle. “Well Bri, it’s all because of this marvel. Somebody doesn’t want to me succeed, more than likely, they want to open a medieval hot dog theme park of their own. The best way would be to throw a wench in this, the hottest food idea of the year coming out. The news about the disaster will drive people away plus The Master Chef was the only one who knew the magical recipe.”

Over the chomping of The Queen’s gum I started to think of who would do such a thing. My thoughts kept wandering back to the person who I saw earlier in the park, Hank Cameron, Manager of Foodville. Sure, I didn’t have anything actually linking him to the crime but I knew the type of fiend he was. “Sir,” I said bowing to one knee. “I may know of the one.”

After explaining who Hank Cameron was the King shouted to his ‘King’s Guard’. “Bring me this man!!”

All the fat men of the guard shuffled out to find him. Things had finally calmed down in the courtyard at least– a good soul threw a blanket over the body of The Master Chef until some sort of authority figure would be called to take charge. Right now with the castle walls up it was all the King’s justice. A few minutes passed– I was talking with ‘The Queen’ (one of the King’s many mistresses) about the cool design on her nails when I heard a familiar voice from behind me. “There you are Bri!!”

Goofy Hotdog Guy- the true killer!!

Goofy Hotdog Guy- the true killer!!

Scott joined me on the platform in his traditional Deep Eastern Suburban Lankville outfit. I filled him in on all the details. I was glad he found me, I felt a little safer with him there and his firepower. It was soon after that the King’s Guard dragged in the whimpering, sniveling Hank Cameron with his family behind him. I guess looking back I did feel slightly bad for him but I also believe in what many Deep Northerners call ‘karmic justice.’

The battered and bruised who were still in the court gathered around the platform after Hank Cameron was brought to the front. For some reason The King’s voice became overly dramatic “Are you the man called Hank Cameron?!!!”

“Yes-yes.” His voice had taken a high-pitched nasal quality.

“You have been accused by this Hotdog Jester of killing The Master Chef and trying to make ‘The Crown of Frankfurters’ your own. How do you plea?!!”

I think Hank Cameron was too upset to really notice it was me. “I didn’t do anything I swear!!” To see such a man of authority reduced to a babbling mess was something.

The King’s eyes were cold and hard. He was about to pass judgement when an old lady wearing a robe with moons, stars, and hot dogs on it stepped out of the crowd holding a small crystal ball. Her free hand was waving over the ball while she was speaking. “My King, this is not the man who committed the evil act. The man who planted the blade is the one who is truly one with the hot dog!”

“What the hell does that mean?” The King questioned. Everyone was scratching their heads, who could that be? Most everyone here had such a deep passion and love for hot dogs.

From the corner of my eye I just happened to notice the goofy guy in the hot dog outfit who brought me here trying to sneak out. “It’s him!!” I said loudly pointing towards the door. The goof quickened his pace, I was pretty nervous the fat men of the King’s Guard wouldn’t be able to catch him. Scott pulled out one of his handguns and shot the fleeing frankfurter in BOTH knees, he’s always a good shot. Screaming in pain he was dragged before the King while Hank Cameron crawled away sobbing to his family.

The King had a tear in his eye. “Why would you, the goofiest hot dog of the court do something so foul and betray me?!”
Pausing in the pain the goof gave a twisted a smile. It looked like he was about to reply but instead the maniac pulled a small blade out in an attempt to kill the King!! Again Scott was on top of his game putting a bullet between his eyes.

After a moment of deep breathing, the King walked over to Scott and kissed his hand. “Sir, thank you for saving me. I am forever in your debt, maybe one day both the Northern and Eastern sides of Deep Suburban Lankville could put aside their trivial differences and live as one.”

Scott- now an honorary member of the 'King's Guard'

Scott- now an honorary member of the ‘King’s Guard’

“Whatever, if you owe me a favor can you get me the numbers of those two rather busty barmaids you have working for you?”

The King smiled “Someone bring me their employee files!!” Everyone on the court cheered and the party started up again like nothing had even happened. The music was playing and even better, plates of food were coming back out. Among the best was another new idea called “Micro Dogs” delightful miniature hot dogs that hit the spot.

I watched while the King place ‘The Crown of Frankfurters’ in a glass box. “This is the only one now Bri. we must take care of it. A shame it will never be eaten.” Now a tear was coming to my eye.

Sometime later the castle walls must of been opened because Gee-Temple came in with a few cops. He wanted to see the bodies but somehow during all the merriment someone removed both bodies without anyone noticing. Also no one could find the old lady with the crystal ball. Hank Cameron wanted to file charges against me and just about everyone there but the King gave his family lifetime passes to the park. I guess no report was made.

On the car ride back Scott seemed pretty pleased with himself rocking out to Lankville’s hard rock station 103.5 ‘The Hammer’. He was given a special pin- a hotdog with the words ‘King’s Guard’ scribbed into the bun. He had put it on his traditional Deep Eastern Suburban Outfit, maybe, just maybe there was hope for all the suburban areas to come together some day,

Until next time dear readers- keep your mind and mouth open to new ideas. Happy Eating!!-Bri

  1. No comments yet.
  1. No trackbacks yet.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: