Patches the Court Jester held an audience captive in an alcove in the Palace gardens. King GarGar and Queen Pirouette were in attendance. Patches wore pink breeches, a yellow shirt and a bright red wig. On his back he wore a multicolored jacket made entirely out of bits of fabric; hence, the name Patches. On top of is head, he wore a small red hat with bells attached to it. The final touch to his ensemble was a simple stick about 2 feet long that he held like a scepter or perhaps a magic wand. Copious amount of makeup, poorly applied, sloppy, fiendish, obscured his facial features, leaving a disturbing mask of tragic absurdity.

“The best thing the old king ever did for the country was die!” Pronounced Patches. “What will be the best thing King GarGar and Queen Pirouette do?” He looked around in an exaggerated manner, as if expecting an answer from some far quarter.

“What’s the difference between a jester and a clown?” Asked Queen Pirouette absently. She wasn’t interested in clowns or magic shows, or any other cheap diversion.

“As a rule, Your Majesty,” replied Patches in a deep sonorous voice. “Clowns don’t talk. Also, the word ‘jester’ implies the presence of royalty as employer to said jester. He shook his stick menacingly at King GarGar. “I’m no clown!”

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