The Little King

The Little King

by Joe Shaboo

The Little King was a very tiny king. His body was incredibly small. He wore a bottlecap crown and matchbox shoes. The King was only four inches tall! How could anybody be so short? No one could ever explain. Maybe it snowed the day he was born or maybe he shrunk in the rain. The King wasn’t happy with being so tiny. He wished to be 100 feet tall! “I’ll do anything to be taller than a mouse,” he said. “I’ll do anything. Anything at all.”

“I have an idea!” said one of his helpers. “We will build you a stretching machine. It will stretch your arms, your legs, your neck, your head… but it might cause your face to turn green.”

“A Royal Stretcher…” said the King. “Hmmm…that idea sounds good to me.” So all of the King’s helpers built the machine while the King sipped on his tea.

“Ready when you are,” they said to the King. The King was strapped inside. “Are you ready, your majesty?”

“I am,” said the King. His crown was placed by his side.

One leg was stretched to the corner of the room. The other was just as far. His arms were stretched like two rubber bands. The King looked a little bizarre. “How do I look?” the King asked a helper. “Am I finally taller than an elf?”

“You look …different,” said the helper. “Get out of the machine, stand up, and see for yourself.”

The King tried to stand. He tried to walk, but he kept banging his head on the wall. Suddenly, the King snapped back into place. He was again four inches tall.

“Maybe I can’t be 100 feet tall.” The King was tired and sad.

“I have another idea!” said the King’s helper. “It’s the best idea I’ve had! This funny mirror is from the circus. Stare into it and you will see! Your wish will come true in a matter of seconds. You’ll be 100 feet tall instantly!”

The King cheered as he looked into the mirror. His wish has finally come true. “I’ll stare into this mirror the rest of my life! That’s all that I have to do!” The King carried the mirror wherever he went. He smiled like a King. He was proud. Then he dropped the mirror. It crashed to the ground and the King cried like a cloud.

The helpers were thinking how to help the King. What could they possibly do? They gathered together and found a solution. “What we need is some glue! We will glue a stilt to each of your legs. Put your feet upon this chair. Hold very still, as still as can be. I don’t want to get glue in your hair. This should just take a minute… in a matter of seconds you’ll be taller than ever before! I think we can build you a little bit bigger. How about 100 foot 4?”

“Stop the procedure!” the King ordered at once. “How happy does a king have to be? I never realized how happy I am when I’m happy just being me!  If I was 100 feet tall, I couldn’t fit in my castle. I’d walk around and bang my head. I couldn’t sit down at the dinner table and how could I fit in my bed? I’d rather be happy than 100 feet tall, as happy as a king can be. And I’m happy,” said the King. “I’m a happy, little king because I’m happy just being me.”