Excerpt: Main and the Lord of Chaos

Main stomped across his sitting room to a couch and threw himself down on it, then stared down at his socks, his mind roiling with anger and bafflement. What mysterious force had taken all his perfectly fine breeches and transmogrified them into the bizarre garments that now filled his wardrobes? And more than that -- this was evidence that the wider reports that had been reaching the capital of KPniceplace were more than superstitious overreaction, but were valid incidents that he now saw needed immediate attention. He briefly ran over his speech for today in his head -- originally, he had planned to spout some soothing nonsense and eventually promise nothing, the usual way he responded to queries he did not wish to trouble himself over, but now that he realized the danger was real, perhaps he ought to rouse the people, ending his speech with a rousing promise to look into the problem personally. After a brief deliberation, he decided to change the tone of his message only, in order to avoid rousing the people overmuch. He would speak to the people, assure them that the problem would be looked into, and then proceed to delegate the issue until someone caught the miscreant who stole his pants and made him pay. Main brought his right fist into his left hand's open palm, decisively signaling his decision made, then got up and paced his room. What was taking Jeeves so long? Surely he knew that Main was due to speak to the townspeople in under half an hour! Main was unfortunately running late due to the bottle of wine he had soothed his own nerves with the night before. He had woken only an hour before with a demon sent headache and a dry mouth, but luckily the white wine he had had with his breakfast of pastries, exotic imported "zocalatal," freshly caught salmon, ostrich eggs, pomegranates, oranges, bananas, and marzipan subtleties had soothed his headache and even what nerves he had before this address to the city. He had had to take on a frightful load of responsibilities after he had been forced to fire the city's secretary of affairs -- the stress preyed on him, but the man's insubordination had been unforgivable. Why, daring to inform him, the prince's heir, that he had had enough of Main's parties, mere get togethers with a few friends? Even worse, demanding he stop? The man clearly was drunk on power and needed to be stopped, for the good of the city. But, the unfortunate result of this act of justice on Main's part was that he was forced to take on the responsibilities of the deposed man, on orders from his own father. Main had at first resisted the addition of more duties on top of his weekly lessons in the art of swordfighting, but after realizing that this was a duty only he could do, Main decided to take this job head-on. Of course, it was also his responsibility to make sure he was in top form and ready for the many speeches he was required to present to the city council and the city at large -- and what could be wrong with a glass of or two of wine or ale to soothe his nerves and lubricate his throat?

Main paced a little longer, then slammed a fist into the wall in sudden frustration. By Heaven, where was Jeeves? Main muttered to himself as he stalked over to his dressing room, intent upon finding himself some pants if it was the last thing he did. He began to search through his wardrobe, tossing kilt after kilt aside in frustration. The vandals couldn't have taken every single pair of pants he owned! He had over seven hundred and twenty five pairs of pants! He threw so many kilts out of the closets that they began to form a small mountain outside the dressing room on his sitting room floor. After every one of his five wardrobes was emptied of every kilt he could find, Main began to search through his shirts and jackets in despair, hoping desperately that he could find even one pair of breeches or even hose, even though he avoided hose as they were unmanly and out of style anyway. Finally he gave up and sat down on the mountain of kilts outside his door. As he moped on Kilt Mountain, Jeeves suddenly slid through the door holding the kilt that Main had handed to him when we weren't looking. Oh wait, now we remember — Main threw them at Jeeves. We actually never saw Jeeves pick them up, though, so the comment still stands. Jeeves stood and stared at Main with a supremely confused expression on his face, then shook his head and handed the kilt back to Main.

"My lord, I am sorry, but as I predicted, it will be impossible to get you a pair of any bifurcated garment. You will be forced to wear this kilt to the speech today. I have prepared a podium on a balcony for you to hide behind, my lord; I hope it will be sufficient."