Faded Houses Green

The cornice came down upon the crown of the king who lies uneasy on his death bed because the maid had not fluffed his royal pillows.

Buford said I am not the knight errant, but rather the knight errand; would you like me to carry out an errand for you, such as finding the fair maiden. Brumley said but you have no idea what to do with a fair maiden even if, as the knight errand, you did find her; although, fluffing your pillows would be top of the list–whether you are the king or not–whether you are on your royal death bed or not. Buford said in any case, Sancho and Lefty had already given as good as they got, singing the blues all night long like they used to, in Cleveland no less. Telling jokes about his donkey, Hôte, between twelve bars and seven taverns with a cocktail lounge thrown in for adequate measure.

The cornice measured three feet in diameter, and the king said what’s the circumference of my death bed, and he died without an answer–or heir–his pillows still unfluffed. Long live the pillows!