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INTRODUCTION by David E. Smith.
It has occurred to me that many of you are not acquainted with the Chivalrous and misplaced ” going’s on” in “Plunkersham Forest”. Sir George Whoopsalot and his calamitous group of armored nobility share this little corner of earthly Heaven with Damsels, Dragons, Castles and other such facets of Medi-Mythical life.
A “primer” of sorts would include the explanation that Sir Whoopsalot is simply a metaphorical, tongue and cheek reference to everyday life and it’s attendant problems. ”Whoopy”, as he is affectionately known, is just such a noble member of an unheralded class of people that fight the good fight on a daily basis. Without so much as acknowledgement of their trials, tribulations, and, their victories.
You all know him, don’t you? The non-descript person who, each and every day, dons his imaginary armor, takes up his trusty “sword” and sallies forth to battle the little Demons and Dragons that bedevil all good people.
They show up at the worst of times to put asunder much good work and planning, often with seemingly little effort. All day long you struggle to ”get it right” , and then the Demons, Dragons and Gremlins show up and upset the entire Apple cart. Tempers flare. People yell. Scream. Pound their desks. Kick their trashcans.
Summoning courage and devotion from seldom used hiding places in their souls to an unseen but important cause they get back into the fight and at the end of the day, most of it, seems to come out right. A status quo, if you will.
To take a character like “Sir George Whoopsalot” and meld him, at the same time, into modern and medieval times is, perhaps, a strange way to express the everyday experiences that make us human. But it takes occasional flights of fantasy and diversion to appreciate the story line. We all fight the “Dragon” in our daily struggles. You’ve heard the sayings; “Most days you get the Bear. Other days, the Bear gets YOU.” “Some days, you’re the windshield. Other days, you’re the bug!”
Well, Sir George Whoopsalot is just one of those people. He goes out time after time and confronts the Dragons that haunt us all. And, once in a while, he even wins. Like most of us, he too, serves higher “endowments”, who, seem to neither appreciate nor acknowledge the bravery and sacrifices made on their behalf. But he will keep the crusade. He will continue to venture out into the imaginary Realm that is his world. A world that each of us in-habits, in some fashion, and he will drive back the Dragons from the doorstep of goodness. Back to the land of chaos from which they come.
And at the end of the day, he will return home. To his world. A serene little world of Castles and mountains. Of forests and glens. Of damsels and villains. Wagons and squires. Nobles and nobility. And, of course, “Dragons”. A world of good, and………not so good.
Returning home at the end of the day, he will shed his scorched and dented armor. And he will lay down to rest, serene in the knowledge that someone, somewhere, is laying down without the Dragon breathing down his neck. He will smile wearily. And then he will sleep. Perhaps he will even dream.
For tomorrow…..he will go forth……….. again.
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SENTIMENTAL WHOOPY
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As he opened his mail on that dreary morning, Sir Whoopsalot had not given slightest thought to the passage of time since his heady days in school. After all, it wasn’t really all that long ago, was it? No, he went about his normal morning routine as if all the world was serene and under control. Why, he’d knocked that darned ole’ Dragon for a loop the last time they had collided. By golly, he was actually getting the upper hand on him occasionally. The King was happy. Hadn’t torn the drapery off the parapets in quite a while. All things considered, Ole’ “Whoopy”, as the squires had taken to calling him, had things finally going his way in life. For a change.
It was then Sir Whoopsalot, as he set his helmet and sword down on his desk, spied a peculiar envelope amongst the other junk mail and bills and such. This one had a familiar symbol on it. Whoopy picked it up and observed the return address and embossed crest that adorned the top of the envelope. No, it couldn’t be. Why, yes, it was. It was from his old high school. He checked the date. Yep, mailed just the day before. Boy. Memories. He hadn’t thought about those days in years. Pictures and voices from the past came flooding into Whoopy’s haggard but content little mind. He smiled and uttered names and memories to himself as he fixed himself a cup of coffee and sat down in the chair behind his heavy oak desk. It’s solid but scarred features showed many years of faithful service and exhibited all too well the cluttered existence of a humble servant of the crown. Chief Dragon Slayer and All-Round Good Guy was his official title. But Whoopy was much more than that. Always at the ready to help little old ladies cross streets, find lost children, settle tax riots and , of course, do battle with the only consistent nemesis of civil life; The Dragon. No one else stood atop the battlements day after tired day and did battle with that mischievous detractor of peace and tranquility in the Kingdom.
A long and baleful sigh came over George as he sipped his coffee and clutched the still unopened envelope in his hands. “Well”, he muttered, to himself. “Lets us just see what my old school would be writing me about. Probably found that Library book I lost!” Whoopy took the letter opener, (it had been a gift from the Bishop), and carefully opened the letter. Old Whoopy almost fainted from the realization it had been almost twenty years since he’d graduated, and it was coming up fast on the occasion of the twenty year reunion. Wow. Now George felt old. Aches and pains in places he hadn’t known he had began to make themselves known. “Twenty years!” Whoopy sighed to himself quietly. Memories, pain and excitement often run together at moments like this and Whoopy felt it all. He stared out the window but he wasn’t really looking at the world outside. His mind was drifting with a solemn dose of melancholy as he relived old memories and chatted mentally with old friends. He wondered what some of them were doing now. It’s true he’d seen some of them since high school but most had traveled far and wide with no trace of their existence in the old neighborhoods. The reunion was scheduled for next month at the great hall. Yep! He’d be there. With his wife Andessa and a pocket full of stories and adventure to add to the memories from his youth. Yeah. He’d be there.
A crash and roar of flames shot past his window and abruptly yanked Whoopy back to the present day. That darned Dragon had shown up at the “TupperWhere Festival” and was roasting everything in sight. A double shame too. This year was going to have a special seminar on how to keep up with TupperWhere! George threw the letter and opener down on the desk and snatched up his gear for yet another battle with the “Flamer”. One day. One day he’d see peace. But not today. With a hearty “Cheery O”, and fighting to get his heavy helmet on, he charged out the door to fight for order in the kingdom once more. One day. Yes. One day!.
The afternoon of the 16th came a lot faster than Whoopy had anticipated. For three weeks he’d starved and exercised in a vain and troublesome effort to fit into his old school uniform. It was old and tattered but the colors were still crisp. And the ribbons were still together. The proud crest of “Bastille High” was still sitting exactly where it had always been, right there above the left breast pocket. Of course, there was a hole just below it where Harvey Belchausen had nearly killed him in “Fencing” class. He “Parried” when he should have “Thrust” and if it hadn’t been for the Tuna Fish sandwich Whoopy had smuggled from the cafeteria……….it had been a close one alright! And the sandwich was ruined. Phooey! Ole Whoopy squeezed, inhaled and wiggled a bit but he eventually got into the suit and with a kiss, he and his lovely Andessa were off to the party. “Andessa, if that @%#$%& Dragon shows up tonight I’ll……..” Andessa reached over to grab George’s hand and comfort him as she’d always done. “Now stop it George, you know how you get when you think about things going wrong. You are just nervous about it all. It’ll be alright. You’ll see.” She patted his arm as he maneuvered the wagon down the road to the village.
Things were bright and cheery in the Main Hall. Whoopy had forgotten how the people he’d graduated with could throw a party. Man did they know how to have fun. Whoopy reminisced about how he and Lester Nestor had gotten drunk and passed out in Naomi Linden’s downstairs foyer. Boy, if her parents had come home………! And there was the time he and a bunch of the guys had gone “bobbing for alligators” down at the moat. Winton Doneright had forgotten that the gators weren’t ALWAYS in the water. He nearly leaped across the moat when ole’ toothy came out from under the drawbridge and almost bit him in the hip pockets. Whoopy didn’t quit running until he made it nearly all the way home. Told his father he was practicing for the relay races. Never knew his father had seen the entire episode.
As he and Andessa made their way into the hall from the cloakroom they spied the festivities going on around them. There were musicians, food and fun galore. What a turnout. Must be nearly everyone in the class had made it to the party. Wow!. Just then a short and somewhat round man came running from amidst the crowd and grabbed Whoopy’s hand. “George, you haven’t changed a bit! You look the same as the day we left.” Whoopy could see recognition but just couldn’t place the face. His happily quizzical look told the man he needed a prompt to remember.
“You remember me don’t you? Walter Biteme. I sat in front of you in math class. We used to pick on Janet Ruggrumple all the time. Remember?” A sudden look of recognition came over Whoopy’s face, followed by a hearty laugh. It’s funny how a small little reminder like that can summon forth years of memories in an instant.
“Why yes I remember you. How’ve you been? You're lookin’ good.” He winked at Andessa. Both men stood and talked of olden times and mixed in catch-ups from contemporary events while Andessa visited the food setup for something for everyone to drink.
As the evening wore on it became apparent to Andessa her husband had always been a character. She’d never known about the failed biology experiment that nearly got him expelled. The teacher suspected they were making bootleg ale’ in those barrels but could never prove it. Not till the still exploded anyway. And George had conveniently left out the part about dating Susan Topwieghty all through high school. She was going to have questions later! Old rivalries and friendships became anew. New found friendships were formed and promises exchanged. Toward the end of the evening the old football captain got up on stage and called everyone to him. They listened as he said a few choice words about memories and times past. The class had produced quite an eclectic demographic of society and there were stories of successes and failures abounding. Perhaps the most astonishing was Cindy Quiller. That girl was the homeliest in the class. Everyone was shocked when she showed up at the prom with a date. Little did anyone know it was a case of blackmail. He’d escort her to the prom and make a good show of it or she’d tell everyone about his “pants wetting” episode in their sophomore year. And HE thought no one knew!? Well, no one needed bribing now! What a knockout. And a successful real estate broker too! Yeah, there were certainly stories here.
The evening was about to conclude and Sir Whoopsalot found himself sad and joyful at the same time. He didn’t want it to end. He hadn’t been the most popular boy in school. In fact, he’d been sort of a misfit. He was always there when someone needed something but never really accepted by social elite or bystander alike. Always suspected of having abilities far above his actions, he’d never really “fit in” anywhere. A “lone wolf” so to speak. And yet, Whoopy felt loved. More people remembered him than he imagined. And the things they remembered. He hadn’t known anyone had heard about his escapade with the principals daughter! Whew!
It was just about then that a whiff of brimstone came under Whoopy’s nose. The sudden reflection of danger and mischief changed Whoopy’s face. With and angered utterance about not having THIS party crashed, he snatched up a skewer from the meat table and barreled through the crowd to the massive wooden and wrought iron doors of the main entrance. He was about to grab the heavy wrought iron handles when the doors burst open with force and flames shot through the air towards the ceiling of the hall. Lit three candles in the chandelier which hung above the Great Hall floor. Yep. That Dragon had decided to make an appearance and he assaulted the party goers with a vengeance. Why, he came bounding through the front doors like he owned the place. Bar-B-Q’d the headwaiter and his assistant without so much as breathing hard and then proceeded toward the food table where a large number of refugees had taken cover. Amid flames and roars he chased the harried people to and fro across the hall floor, swatting and roasting as he went.
It was then Sir Whoopsalot decided he’d had enough. Protecting the King’s domain and Realm was one thing. But these people were friends and good memories. No. Not this time! With a yell that made even the Dragon stop and take notice, Whoopy arose from the floor from where he had been sent sprawling and, stopping to push up his sleeves, charged the Dragon as never before. Andessa was seriously concerned. She’d never seen him like this. This was a passion she didn’t know he possessed. She watched as he chased the Dragon around the hall, poking him and stabbing at him with the skewer. By now Sir Whoopsalot had the Dragon on the run. By golly he was actually worried. It looked to the onlookers as if he seriously regretted crashing THIS party. Whoopy swung and punched and the Dragon fought back fiercely. They grappled and grunted and careened around the great hall sending chair and fixture flying. Now the Dragon, straining to gather enough breath for fire, was beginning to retreat in haste. He was trying desperately to make good some kind of escape by the front doors. Sir Whoopsalot was serious this time. The Dragon had never seen him so aggravated. If he’d known it was going to be like this he’d have stayed up on mountain in his cozy little cave and wouldn’t have come within ten miles of the place. The Dragon was bruised and almost hoarse from his attempts to roar and flame at the same time. At one point ole Whoopy shoved a ham up his nose causing him to sneeze from the pepper. Flames shot out of his ears and other “orifices” and almost burned his toes! (Fixed his sinus infection though).
The titanic struggle ended with the “Flamer” exiting the building in haste, almost taking the door frame with him and out into the parking lot, with Whoopsalot, that enraged defender of tranquility, in “hot”, (pardon the pun), pursuit. When last seen, he was hobbling down the cobble stoned main street, licking his wounds and smoking from a number of places.
By now Sir Whoopsalot had completely forgotten why he had come to the hall in the first place. He shouted some parting insult and threw down the makeshift weapon and turned to start back toward the hall. He’d taken several steps when he realized a crowd had gathered in front of him. Out from the midst of the crowd came his lovely Andessa. She came running up to him and hugged him as never before. An applause greeted his senses next as he realized the entire reunion had gathered on the steps to pay tribute.
“Whoopy”, began the football hero, “You saved us all and we wanted you to know how much we owe you for being our champion.” A sudden wave of humility slowly displaced his anger as he held Andessa close to him and smiled. Anyone else would have stayed for the admirations. Not George. He strode for the last remaining food table that escaped the chaos and fixed himself a plate. For the rest of the evening he was the hero. It felt good. It felt good to see old friends and make new ones. To see people who may have not been fast friends then, become good friends now. People do change over the years. Things that didn’t matter in youth become important later. Things that were significant then, were meaningless in the light of gathering wisdom. People did change. And mostly for the better. It felt good.
Whoopy slept good that night. Old friends. Fond memories. Good dreams.
The Dragon? Well, he’d gone on vacation for some “R n R”. This constant effort to upset and dishevel the good and noble townsfolk’s lives was getting hazardous. He wondered what the going rate for “combat” pay was these days!. GGEEEZZZ!! He sipped his drink and rared back in his lounge chair. “WAITER” he roared. He was in no hurry to end his sabbatical. Not today, anyway.
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