Jangles, the King’s Jester.

Jangles discuss a rough day at the office.

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
They call me Jangles, the King's jester, master of merriment,
and the only fool paid to be a fool. It's
not a bad gig. Juggle a few flaming torches, tell
some jokes, maybe slip on a banana peal, easy money.
That is until last Tuesday. Let me tell you about
the day I almost lost my head. Literally. The morning

(00:26):
started like any other. I was in the Great Hall,
entertaining the royal court while the king picked at his breakfast.
King Hubert the Overfed isn't exactly known for his sense
of humor. In fact, his idea of a good joke
is watching me trip over my own feet, which, let's
be honest, is more humiliating than funny. That day, though

(00:49):
I was on fire, why did the knight carry a pencil?
I asked to draw his sword. The crowd groaned, but
I could see the Queen's stifle a smile behind her
goblet progress. Feeling bold, I decided to test out some
new material sire, I said, bowing low, did you hear

(01:11):
about the noble who ate too much roast pheasant? The
King grunted, clearly disinterested. He became Sir Burpa Lot. The
hall erupted into laughter, everyone except the King, whose face
turned redder than the royal banners. Jangles, he bellowed, slamming

(01:33):
his fist on the table so hard as goblet tipped over.
Are you suggesting I overindulge. Never, your majesty, I stammered,
I merely jest. You jest too much, he growled. Guards
take this fool to the dungeons. Before I could say
bad idea, two burly guards grabbed me and hauled me off,

(01:54):
my bells jingling with every step. Now the dungeons aren't
exactly five star act commendations. My cell smelled like a
wet dog who'd been rolling in garlic, and the only
food I got was a crust of bread that looked
like it had already been nibbled on by rats. Still,
I wasn't about to sit there and mope. I'm Jangles,

(02:17):
the most resourceful fool in the kingdom. I spent the
first few hours practicing my impressions of the king. Look
at me, I'm King. Hubert pass me another turkey leg.
The rats seemed to enjoy it, but I needed a
real plan. Word around the dungeon was that the King

(02:37):
would hold court the next day, and that meant I
had one last chance to win him over. That night,
I bribed a guard with my best juggling ball, don't
ask where I was hiding it, and got my hands
on some ink and parchment. I stayed up all night

(02:57):
writing new jokes, testing them on the rats. They were
a tough crowd, but I figured if I could make
a rodent laugh, I could handle the king. The next morning,
I was dragged into the throne room, still wearing my
jingling hat. The King sat on his massive golden throne,

(03:17):
glaring at me like I just insulted his mother Jangles,
he said, his voice dripping with disdain. Why should I
let you live? I cleared my throat, your majesty, I
have prepared a new act. If it does not make
you laugh, I will gladly accept whatever punishment you deem fit.

(03:39):
The court murmured in approval. Even the Queen looked intrigued.
I started with a classic juggling routine, torches, swords, a
loaf of stale bread I'd nicked from the dungeon. The
crowd seemed impressed, but the King just yawned. Time for
the big guns, Your majesty, I said, juggling a flaming

(04:02):
torch and a sausage. You remind me of this sausage.
The room went dead silent. The guards reached for their swords.
Because you're the worst. The hall erupted into laughter. The
queen actually spat out her whine. Even the guards were
chuckling behind their helmets. But the king nothing. He just

(04:26):
stared at me, stone faced. All right, I said, desperate,
how about this? What do you call a cow that
plays the harp? Still nothing? A moo? Cision crickets. At
this point I was sweating bullets. I had one last joke,
a risky one, Your majesty, what's the difference between your

(04:47):
throne and your temper? His eyes narrowed. What your throne
has legs? For a second, I thought I was done for. Then,
to my astonishment, the King led out a then a chuckle,
and finally a booming laugh that shook the walls. The

(05:07):
King wiped a tear from his eye. Jangles. You truly
are a fool, he said, grinning, But you're my fool.
Guards release him. The court erupted into applause. As the
guards unshackled me. I took a dramatic bow. My bells
jingling triumphantly. That night, the King invited me to dine

(05:31):
at the royal table, a rare honor for a lowly jesture.
As I bid into the juiciest turkey leg I'd ever tasted,
I couldn't help but feel proud. Sure, I'd nearly lost
my head, but I'd also proven one thing. Never underestimate
the power of a well timed sausage joke.