Welkin's Realm

Or

How Stanley fought the Megazoons in Aisle 32, Catering pickles and ketchups, while Julie, Tracy and Mr Greengob tried to run a supermarket, two old blokes argued about guns and films and a nice old lady tried to help.

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Stanley had been stacking shelves for seven years. His father got him the job. Stanley thought he would soon be on his way up the employment ladder but he had never plucked up the courage to ask for promotion or to look for another job. Everything seemed to stack up against him so he just sort of stayed there, on the shelf. The boss did not seem to notice Stanley until something needed doing. Everyone else had it in for him, especially Julie. She was always picking on him. He had an escape though, while he stacked, and collected trolleys, he built another world inside his head, in which he was an avenging knight, laying siege to the castle of his birthright. However after seven years of this, he was not sure which of his worlds was reality. Was he a dispossessed prince or a shelf stacker?

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He stood before the citadel, the Welkin's Son, sworn to regain the Welkin throne and kill the Robber Queen, who had stolen his kingdom and murdered his father. But his army was weakening. After seven years they were tired and homesick.

Magical powers had been gifted the Welkin's Son but this gift had a dark side: the sickness of the gods, causing him to occasionally fall into a dreamlike Other World.

"My Lord Welkin's Son," said his faithful page, "thrice three, have our armies attacked the walls and thrice three the Megazoon armies have beaten back our brave troliateers from the Barbican, entrance to the Citadel. What is to be done my lord?"

But The Welkin's Son did not answer for he felt the sickness coming upon him. He struggled back to his tent, lay down on his couch, closed his eyes and let his malady run its course.....

His eyes flickered shut and when they reopened he saw long thin magical lights hanging from the roof above him, shelves of potions surrounded him and someone was calling him....

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"Stanley! Stanley! Are you wiv us today, Stanley? 

Oh, you've got it cushy stuck back here in aisle 32, catering pickles and ketchups. Ain't you? Stanley. What you dreaming about today, Stanley?"

But Stanley did not rise to Julie's taunting.

"Better get a move on, Stanley, 'cause we ain't got no more trolleys, Stanley."

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They looked to their leader for inspiration and the Welkin's Son would not fail them.

Turning to his faithful page, he said,

" Bring me my fearsome War Chariot, harness up the last three Giant Danish Blue Battle Pigs, bring my father's Magnum Blade, my Cadbury purple coat, embossed with nugget charms and my suit of Gherkin amour etched with finest Kellogian gold flake.  I, the  Welkin's Son, Knight of the Patio Table, will this day attack the citadel alone. Find and Kill the Megazoon Queen, along with all who stand in the way. Once again I shall sit upon the Welkin Throne" 

So the three giant blue battle pigs were harnessed to the yokes and lined up to the great Sarcen's causeway  which The Welkin Son's engineers had spent the past seven years building to cross the moat and give access to the Barbican of the Castle. The Welkin's Son stood upon his chariot, high above his men, the pig reigns in one hand and his Welkin Magnum Blade in the other. The early morning sun sparkled on his gold flaked amour.

"My fellow Troliateers, thrice two years .... eh.... and four months, have we camped here on Barbican field; each day I see your eyes, like birds eyes, frozen on the horizon and longing for home. I could have had no better brothers but now I can ask no more of you my friends.

So, I will go alone against the castle, kill the Megazoon Queen and recapture my Father's throne or die in the attempt.

"Unleash the pigs of war, let the trumpets sound a final fond farewell fanfare. Death to the Megazoons." He roared, holding his Magnum Blade as high as he could, considering that he had lost a lot of weight these last seven years and the plates of his armor tended to slip up under his armpit and lock. He tried to avoid this but failed, so stood waiting with his arm pointing at the sky.

"What's he pointing at?" Asked the page holding  the pigs.

"I think he wants you to let the pigs go," said the second page. 

The pigs were released and they reared up, snorted spurts of steaming snot and shot off in three different directions. The war chariot tipped over and sent the Welkin's Son headfirst into the moat.

"Why in Welkin's name can those engineers never build these things to go in a straight line?"

He waded across the moat to the base of the Barbican, where he pulled out his faithful labeling crossbow, fired a line of sticky bar codes high over the walls and, amid a hail of arrows, stones, ginger wine and boiling bath foam, he assaulted the walls.

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Tracy's mouth fell open as she watched Stanley climb the shelves of catering pickles and ketchup. When he reached the top shelf he stood up and removed a six foot florescent tube from its  holder and began to wave it around madly.  

"Wha's up with 'im Trace?"

"Gone completely crazy this time, Julie."

"Stanley! Get down here."

"Stanley, I'm going to get Mr Greengob?"

"Stanley, we need more trolleys."

Stanley leapt the ten feet down to the aisle floor but landed awkwardly and fell against the shelves.

Julie knelt down by his side and heard Stanley say,

"Bring me my Magnum Blade."

A crowd was gathering.

"What's he say, Trace?"

"Something about a Magnum."

A bloke in the crowd said,

"That's the largest hand gun ever made."

"It's a bottle of Champagne, ain't it? But he won't get a decent one here," said another bloke in the crowd.

"Clint Eastwood had one in 'Dirty Dozen".

"No, that was a semi automatic, a Mouser, and the film was Dirty Harry."

"I thought it was a chocolate ice cream  on a stick," said an old lady.

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The Welkin's Son leapt from the castle ramparts. All had fled the Welkin Magnum blade. He leapt the ten feet down the steps to the courtyard's labyrinth of aisles.

Welkin's Son knew the way through the labyrinth because he had grown up here.

"Welcome Welkin's Son." said a voice The Welkin's Son dreaded almost as much as the Megazoon Queen herself. It was the voice of Ycart the witch. She had once been in his father's service and had tutored The Welkin's Son in the magic arts, how to read the ancient bar codes and  the ways of the Trolierteers. But she had changed sides and now served the Megazoons.

''We meet again, Welkin's Son. Since you fled few have come here and even fewer have left," she said.

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"I don't know what's wrong with him, his eyes are open but he's talking all daft." Tracy stood up and leant against the shelves, dislodging an extra large jar of Branston pickle which fell and tumbled down towards Stanley's  head.

He saw it coming and just had time to.....

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...raise his magnum blade to fend off the falling jar which the Ycart the witch had conjured up and which was hurtling towards him from the sky but for once the Magnum blade failed him and the jar hit him splintering into a thousand fragments on his head and dripping its evil smelling contents over his face.  The witch leant over him.

"Just like your father," she said, wiping a little of the brown stuff from his face and tasting it..

"And I have my father's Magnum blade  as well," said the Welkin's Son, striking into the witch's heart. He leapt to his feet, plunged his blade again deep into the witch's chest, cut out her heart and began to eat it, together with a little of the pickle, while it still throbbed and there was life enough in the witch's eyes to see him enjoy it.

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Stanley suddenly punched Tracy in the chest.

"Get back everyone, he's gone crazy. He just hit me."

"Could the manager, Mr Greengob come to aisle 32, catering pickles and ketchups, where he is urgently needed to sort somefink." 

Julie hated the P.A., "...what with everybody listening and everyfink."

But Mr Greengob was in his office having his sandwiches. He heard Julia's announcement but the doctor had told him to keep his stress levels down and one way to do that was by not having his lunch breaks interrupted by every little thing that happened in the store.

Five minutes later Julia knocked on his office door.

"Mr Greengob, Tracy says to tell you that she needs you in aisle  32, catering pickles and ketchups, it's Stanley."

"Not him again. What a loony, spends all his time dreaming. God knows what's going on in that mind of his. I'd have got rid of him if it hadn't been for his old man. What's he done this time? Fallen asleep in a trolley? He hasn't  built another causeway out of cornflake packets and vinegar bottles, has he? What ever it is, it'll have to wait 'til I finish my sandwiches."

"He's climbing shelves again."

Mr Greengob left his sandwiches and made his way to the aisle  32, catering pickles and ketchups, where he saw Stanley lying in a pool of blood and Branston Pickle.

"Tracy, call an ambulance."

"I'm not Tracy, I'm Julie. Tracy's on lunch now."

"Oh, yes, Julie, call an ambulance."

He should have sacked Stanley. Like he did his father but the day after he had sacked him his father had died of a weak heart. Coroner said it was likely to have been brought on by his 'sudden and cursory dismissal from his work place'.

So now he was frightened to get rid of his son, Stanley, in case he dropped dead the next day. So he had kept him on. Seven years!

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The Welkin's Son sensed danger.

The Megazoon Giant, Greengob, stepped out of the shadows.

"I have been expecting you, Welkin's Son."

"I am here to kill your Megazoon Queen Greengob and you if you stand in the way. Tell me where your queen hides and I shall spare your life."

But the giant Greengob looked through The Welkin's Son as if he was not there.

Then  suddenly, with a great roar,

Greengob raised his arms and his axe flashed passed The Welkin's Son's head and smashed  into the cobbled stones splintering them with a shower of sparks and ringing out like a great bell down the ailes.

But The Welkin's Son was quick: he somersaulted behind the giant, landing upon a wall, his Welkin blade whistled through air, sliced through skin, sinew, flesh and bone, cleanly cutting Greengob's head from his shoulders and sending it bouncing down the aisle. The giant's body fell like several twenty five kilo sacks of everyday potatoes off the back of a delivery lorry and blood trickled across the aisle, pudding black.

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"You had better put some cones around him to block off the aisle until the ambulance gets here, Julie."

"What sort of cones Mr. Greengob?"

"I don't know any sort of cones, plastic, 'This floor is wet', type cones."

"Well it's more sticky than wet ain't it??"

"Well get a "This Floor is Sticky" cone then. I don't care."

"We ain't got any, I don't fink."

"Just get something to stop the public going down that aisle."

"Anchovies?" Asked a customer,

"Aisle seven, tinned fish and olive oil." Julie and Greengob said in unison.

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Welkin's Son entered the Great Anchovy Hall where the Welkin throne had sat for a thousand years, the seat of Welkin's Realm.

The great Welkin's Anchovy Throne: a solid gold blend, encrusted with nuggets and birds eye jewels; fabulous and unbeatable value.

Why had the Queen not placed a guard around it?

Where was the Queen? Where was she hiding? He must find her and kill her before he could reclaim his throne.

He ran his fingers across the apple red leather of the throne and felt a raspberry ripple of excitement run down his spine. Perhaps he would just sit for a moment on the Welkin Throne.

He should take care, it could be a trap. His magical powers sensed no nearby beings, though.

He turned and placed his hands on the golden arms of the throne and slowly began to sit down. At last the throne of Welkin's Realm was his. The fifty seventh of the line of Welkins. Soon he would no longer be the Welkin's Son but the Welkin himself.

He closed his eyes and heard a click and beneath the throne a Megazoon mechanism was triggered. A seven foot steel spike sprung from its underground housing, thrusting upward through the seat, through the apple red leather, through the Welkin Son's backside, through his body, piercing his heart and thrusting out of the back of his neck.

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"A Megazoon trap." Stanley screamed.

The medic, jumped up as Stanley suddenly leapt into the air.

The heart monitor bleeped excitedly.

"We're loosing him Tom"

"Clear!"

"OK!"

"Again!"

"Clear!"

"Beeeeeeeee............"

"No good. Turn the monitor off Tom.

The old lady returned holding a chocolate ice cream on a stick, pushed her way past Julie's, "No Parking" signs and said,

"I've got a Magnum for him."

"Not just now, love," said Mr Greengob.

The medic covered Stanley while Tom, his colleague, walked over to Mr Greengob.

"Have to do the paper work. Do you mind?"

"No," said Mr Greengob.

"What was his name?"

"Stanley Welkin."

"Occupation?"

"Shelf stacker."

"Any family?"

"No. Not that I know of, last of the line, bit of a special offer was Stanley."

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Greengob, the now headless giant, entered the Anchovy throne room, his head in a basket hanging from his arm. He put it down before the throne, took out his Megazoon knife and cut open his chest from the neck down to his navel and out stepped The Megazoon Queen.

She walked over to the still twitching body of Welkin's Son and said,

"And so we Magazoons kill another Welkin, but this one is the last of the line."

If there was any life left in the Welkin Son's eyes, they would have recognised the Magazoon Queen was his tormentor from the Other World.

___________________~*~___________________

Julie watched with tears in her eyes as they carried Stanley's body out on a stretcher. The old lady stopped them, took out a magnum chocolate ice cream on a stick from her 'Seven for the Price of Six' Packet and placed it across his chest.

"His favorite." she said.

"Funny bloke, Stanley, weren't he." sniffed Tracy.

"Yeh, I really liked him, well, sort of," sniffed Julie.