As the pains in GarGar’s chest worsened, greater lengths were taken to alleviate his suffering. He was forced to drink various elixirs, some bitter, some sweet and some tasteless- to no avail. Finally, as a last ditch effort, his physicians bled him. With a small knife, the physician cut a vein in the crook of his arm and collected the blood in a small, ceramic bowl. With a practiced eye, he examined the fluid, swirling it around, smelling it. In conference with his colleagues, a shibboleth parted the lips of the senior physician, “Witchcraft!” He pronounced. “Your lordship is the victim of the black arts.”
Princess Pirouette who had been present during all the proceedings was appalled. “Is that the best you can do?” She asked. “Is it time to call a priest? Get out! All of you, get out!”
Beautiful Photographs 