Stories

ROULFF THE ROYAL

A fantastic description of the life of Roulff, stranded on the island of Kyushiana, far off to the east, far from his homeland. Unable to speak the language, surrounded by strange natives. But he was a Roulff in luck. He quickly took one of the natives as his wife. She washed, she went to work, she did everything for him. A beautiful, lovely woman, but Roulff was not satisfied with his existence on the island. He started fooling around with another island woman. The woman found out, gave him a few minutes to pack his things, and told him to leave the house at night and never come back. And here begins the story of Roulff:

There he stood, poor Roulff, not knowing where straight ahead. Home I want to go, that was his thought. Home to my homeland. He waited patiently at the side of the road and pondered, what is home? Briefly looked up on his device he got the following:

Country, part of the country, or place where one was born and raised or feels at home through constant residence (often as an emotive expression of close attachment to a particular area).

While reading this, a native cab stopped and took him to a small hotel where he was allowed to sleep on the floor for little money.
Before falling asleep without food, he managed to book a flight to his homeland for the next day. After a restless night, a typical breakfast of the natives, he finally made it to the airport, and finally to his home.

There he was, the Roulff. He walked along the boulevard, amazed to be able to read everything. With “Vanish Extra” and “Always Ultra” advertising, he felt almost at home. But the native people had a somewhat strange language, he understood it though. “Want cab?” one came up to him. As he walked along, one of those money machines caught his eye. Quickly he took out his Heimatler (=hometown) money and went on.
“You give me bag”, there was already again one of these Heimatler. Roulff had something against it, as a reward he got a rather large knife in front of his eyes. It dawned on him that this was not a real Heimatler at all. Quickly looking for an escape route, Roulff’s lights went out. He no longer noticed the powerful blow to the back of his head.

He pointed his finger at himself: “Roulff”. He did not understand what the white figures wanted from him. He got up under loud protest and started to get dressed. Two uniformed men wanted to chain him back to the bed. With two short arm movements he flung them both against the wall. “I Roulff,” his chip had adapted to Earthling language, he threw the bed out the window, half the wall flying with it. The white coats had made off with all but one. “Who are you?” asked the one, “I Roulff, King of Kanourasia.”

The “king” walked down the boulevard, soaking up the Earthlings’ language, all stored in his chip.
“Want Taxi?”, a wave of his hand and the Want Taxi flew far away. At an intersection were many blue Earthlings. They didn’t seem well-disposed toward him. He enlarged his body tenfold, ridding himself of troublesome lines in the process. Most of the blue ones had made off. A few produced flashes from their hands. Roulff’s chip automatically returned everything to the senders. A few of the blues were on the ground afterwards.

Back to normal size, walking down a street of his hometown, Roulff didn’t need long to know. The blow to the back of his head had activated the chip. He was something of a robot, an android, a machine man. And how did he come to be a king of Kanourasia. He didn’t even know where that was. All around there seemed to be a lot of excitement, blues raced past him with howls. He realized that they were looking for him. At a store he grabbed a cap and a walking stick, pulled the Chinese flu mask up over his nose, the cap down low, walked on hunched over with a crooked back, like an old man.
Barely a street away, he was suddenly surrounded again by a group of homelanders. They were all young men and they also spoke this strange Heimatler language. “Hey dude, you give me money and cell phone”. Roulff’s chip had adapted to the language. “Hey Bueb, you better go home to mommy”. The leader had a big blunder in his hand. That was now enough for Roulff, with a nonchalant hand movement he transferred the entire group in a high arc into the native river. Roulff was beside himself. In anger he became huge again, he destroyed the entire neighborhood where he was with kicks, leveled everything to the ground, and then crossed the river. He wanted to run through the middle, trusting his size, only in the middle the water was up to his neck, sparks were flying.

Again he woke up and did not know where he was. He was lying in a big, even huge bed. He wore silk pajamas, looked around curiously. The oversized room had a Far Eastern feel to it. There was a discreet knock at the door.
It opened and a small man in penguin clothing entered the room. “High Lord,” the footman almost touched the floor at his stoop. “Breakfast is prepared, the queen herself has supervised the encores”. He clapped his hands, immediately two young ladies appeared. “They will, honored lord, assist you in dressing.” With several bows, he left the room walking backwards. While the beauties lent a hand, which he found pleasant, he pondered what had happened to him. The river water seemed to have reset his chip to its default settings. It dawned on him that he was now in this Kanourasia. Was he now the king here, and then who was the queen. Curious, he walked through pompous corridors toward the dining room.

Once there, two servants opened the double doors, a herald announced “Our High Lord, King Roulff of Kanourasia”. The servants received him in deep humility. At the lower end of a long table, Queen Yorikone stood in a stooped posture. “High Lord, my husband, back after a long journey, please sit down and enjoy this beautiful morning.” She then escorted him to a royal armchair, adorned with the Kamelia coat of arms of Kanourasia. She seemed strangely familiar to Roulff, and immediately began to massage his shoulders, a relief after his long exertions. The queen then sat down on his knees, the herald looked away in horror, but Roulff waved him off.
“Roulff, Kanourasia needs you now as never before. Much has happened in your absence. After dinner, you are expected at the war council.”
He had a war council?
Was the country at war? “Wait until later, the general will explain everything to you”.
Did he have a general?
Arriving at the war council, there was a noisy confusion. Hundreds were handling machines and shouting orders. When he entered, there was immediate silence, everyone standing in deep bow to their king.
The general stepped forward; indeed he existed.
“High Lord, the people of Kanourasia are incredibly grateful for their return, only our revered king can still save us from the barbarians.”
Barbarians! ?
Roulff directed the general to a conference room to explain the situation.
He learned that a numerically far superior army from the west was about to conquer Kanourasia. Individual sections of the coast were under heavy fire, he said, and the deployment of millions of attackers on thousands of ships was in preparation. An occupation of Kanourasia was only a matter of time, he said. Your army is inferior to the attackers in most respects.
How long can we hold out, Roulff asked. A few days my king, said the general.
Roulff realized his chip was doing the thinking and talking.
Three days, said Roulff, respectively the chip, three days I am gone and then come back with new forces. Throw all forces into the defense of these three days.
Yes, my king, but where do you get these forces.
Do you trust me to defend our homeland, he asked. The general swallowed, even if he did not know how his king would do it, and answered in the affirmative.

Roulff left the room, the chip steering him. Straight into an elevator that went way up. The doors opened, in front of him unreal facilities. A suction carried him into a pressure chamber. Before he knew it, his original clothes had disappeared, a strange indefinable layer surrounded his entire body. The roof opened above him, a force he had not been aware of until now catapulted him miles upward. The chip let him know that all systems were working normally, he should now begin his mission.
Free-floating, far above the ground, he quickly learned that he could control his direction and speed with arm movements.
He then flew over the entire island kingdom of Kanourasia, and now recognized the threatening situation with his own eyes.
But what could he do. Here the chip switched on and took power over him.

He picked up speed, faster and faster, hotter and hotter. He flew straight toward the sun. His shell protected him. He came closer and closer to it, a huge fireball in front of him. The chip reassured him, don’t worry, you’ll take over solar power now. In a narrow arc he circled the sun, his body took unbelievable powers, hardly perceptible for him.
Already it went on, a long journey to Pluto, he hardly realized that. On Pluto he took cold with him, stored in his body.
The chip directed again, it went back towards earth.
There arrived he found himself again in enormous storms, all were absorbed by his body.
But the chip was not finished yet. In a far eastern mountain range, deep in the catacombs, his hands were silted. Which meant, on everything he pointed, on his wish automatically crumbled to sand dust.

Back in Kanourasia, the chip reminded him of Pluto. He activated its powers. The entire sea between the attackers and Kanourasia turned into a huge layer of ice. And thus stopped the attackers for a few days.

Back in the war council there was a lot of excitement. Where did the ice come from, everyone asked. And this in the middle of spring. The nights were still fresh, but the ice should last no more than three days. The general asked his king about the origin of the blessing. But at first he could do nothing with the answer “From Pluto”.
Pluto, also the god of the world of the dead, had put out his feelers for their enemies. The general understood now, and also he understood now more about the power over which his master must have. With immense confidence and deep reverence, he bowed low to his king and immediately summoned the war council.
The heavy machines of the barbarians were of limited use because of the cold, heavy projectiles could be intercepted for the most part until now. But this would not work for long. Roulff was peace-loving in his nature, unless he was attacked. He decided to make a peace offer to the barbarians.
The chip took over his wish and teleported him directly to the workroom of the president of the barbarians. Roulff sat on a visitor’s sofa, unnoticed by the president at first. He was signing papers. Looking up briefly, he jumped up from his seat, yelling guard. Immediately, heavily armed soldiers rushed in. With a wave of Roulff’s hand, they crumbled to dust.
The president began pushing buttons on his oversized desk, sirens going off everywhere. With a wave of his hand, the desk turned to dust. The alarms fell silent.
Roulff offered the president to withdraw all his troops within three days, to cease all offensive efforts. They could continue to live in peace as good neighbors.
But he just laughed, in a few days your islands will be annexed to our giant empire, and you, king, can do nothing about it. He left the room and shouted orders outside.
Back with special forces, he found no one. Roulff had activated his chip. He was circling over what was probably the largest port city of the barbarians, and was thinking of sending a signal. The chip reported. The sun, use your solar powers.
But like activate, the chip took over. Roulff began to glow, growing larger and larger.
In the end he stood in the sky as a huge fireball. Several times it flew over the city below, leaving behind an all-destroying mile-wide conflagration.
Cooled down, he looked down from above on a totally destroyed city. He hoped that this would be understood as a warning.

But it was not. The next morning the general came running out of the war council. My lord, he reported, the barbarians have attacked the capital of our northern island with heavy weapons. The city is in flames.
Roulff had now had enough. taking the elevator up, he was already hovering over the burning city.
The storms stored, signaled the chip. Activated, a huge rain front moved over the city. In a short time, all the fires were extinguished.
The chip now pulled Roulff up and turned him into a massive fireball again. It passed over the barbarian land at a low altitude, leaving black earth in its wake. The presidential palace, the capital, most of the major cities were reduced to rubble. Factories, military installations, everything turned to dust. Barbaria was back in its infancy. Roulff hoped for a few survivors. He was, after all, a peace-loving man.
On the way back, the massive fleet was still below him. The storms, the chip reported, all typhoons at once. The chip activated and set devastating waves in motion. The huge ships had nothing to oppose these “Divine Winds”. Waves hundreds of meters high made them disappear into the ocean. The fleet was gone, so were the barbarians.
Back in Kanourasia, the king received a pompous welcome. Millions of his subjects were on their feet.
They honored him. The highest tower in the land was named after him. The sacred mountain was renamed Roulffiyama.
Back in his chambers, the general reported to him. High Lord, he began, with their consent Kangourasia will renounce everything that can lead back to the barbarians. The language will be Kangourasian, no longer a primitive figurative language, but logically constructed. Barbarian eating habits will be banished. The clothing shall be kangourasic. Request, high lord, for decision, shall women’s skirts be long, medium length, or miniskirt. Roulff did not have to think about that for long.
The next morning, Queen Yorikone told him that she would go to her sick mother for thirty days to take care of her.
Towards evening the general asked for an audience. He received him.
High Lord, he began, the matter is delicate. It was unanimously decided in the war council that I should come to you with this request.
What is the matter, Roulff asked. The general was reluctant at first, but then he spoke up.
My lord, the war council implores you to spread your genes widely in Kanourasia. For this purpose, we were looking for thirty young women in our country. Thousands have come forward. We have chosen the thirty most beautiful ones, they are ready for her. One every night.
Roulff did not have to think long and gave his consent.
After the general left, two beauties came in, ran a bath, and began to wash their king from top to bottom, according to the usual thoroughness in Kanourasia.

He managed them all thirty, at the beginning easy and fast, he felt great pleasure with the time. Who could blame him.
The last one led him to the bathroom afterwards and began to empty water over his head incessantly.
In time he found this unpleasant, he froze, and when he wanted to complain, the beauty had disappeared.

Soaked and hypothermic, he woke up later. No soft bed, no silk suit, he lay on the wet floor. But where. He looked around.
A familiar environment. It dawned on him, he was lying on the ground in front of his little house, where the woman had sent him away.
She was standing over him now. “There you are, walking in your sleep again!” Roulff knew this had happened to him many times before. Hello, my queen, he greeted her. The “queen” quite resolutely helped him to his feet, brought him back into the house, and immediately took off his wet clothes. He looked at her, and found her simply incredibly beautiful. “I’ll run you a hot bath now,” she was gone. Roulff looked around the room, everything was still as he remembered it. “Are you coming,” it called from the bathroom.
So everything had been just a dream. He came to and was glad to be home again. Once in the bathroom, his lovely wife looked down at him. “I wonder what kind of dreams you had again?”

Roulff’s reply, tomorrow I’ll buy you a miniskirt!