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King Julien of the lemurs was always perfectly groomed. As far as he was concerned, he was a perfect physical specimen. That perfection went hand in hand with being king. He was not boasting when he proclaimed to be divine. It was the simple truth and he reveled in being him.
He could look at his reflection for hours or show off for the people so they would toss him popcorn. He could listen to Maurice drone on and on about how great he was and suffer being the object of Mort’s devotion. He could make proclamations about the fabulousness of his feet and have no clue that the rest of the zoo’s residents were bored stiff by such talk.
He forgot his utter awesomeness as he sat on his throne, arms across his chest, and chewing on his nails. He shook his head. “Could the kingly eyes have been mistaken?”
He pulled at the fur on the sides of his head, making it stand at odd angles and knocking his crown askew. “No! I am never wrong. The king cannot be wrong! That is what it means to be king!” he shouted.
He jumped up and stood on his throne. He peered down at the penguin habitat but the fishy flightless birds were still down in their lair. He hugged his tail across his chest and rubbed its bushiness against his chin. “Still, it doesn’t seem possible.”
He twisted his tail in his hands. “This may warrant further investigation.” He leaned to one side. “But why?” He leaned to the other. “Because I am curious. The king must know all.”
He flopped down on his fabulous bottom. His brow furrowed. “But…I could not believe my eyes the first time.” He blinked and his eyes got wide. “Could I believe them this time?”
He waved a hand. “Of course you can. They are kingly eyes.” He pointed at the left one. “Even the lazy eye has its kingly qualities.”
He lay across his throne. He waved his arms in the air. “I do not like this indecisive thing. I could be thinking about something more important. Me! But I can’t stop thinking about them.” He caught sight of his tattered nails and let out a squeal. “Oh, see what those flightless birds have done!”
“Your majesty, is there a problem?” a deep voice asked tentatively.
Julien glanced down at Maurice and Mort standing at the base of his throne. “Wrong? Why would something be wrong?” he asked sarcastically.
Maurice and Mort exchanged weary looks. “Well,” Maurice tried. “You look a little out of sorts.”
Julien jumped down and got in Maurice’s face. “What do you mean out of sorts?” he demanded. “I am the king. I will be the one to do the sorting around here.”
“I just mean…ummm…” Maurice stammered. “You didn’t get into the leechy nuts again, did you?”
“No, and what are you meaning by that?” Julien clenched his fists at his sides. “I’m waiting, Maurice.”
Maurice held up a mirror while Mort hid behind him. “I’m sorry but this is what I mean.”
Julien stared open mouthed at his disheveled appearance. His fur was out of place and his crown crooked. There was a wild look in his eyes that was not from partying and shaking his booty. He jumped back. He brought his hands up about to cover his face but saw his tattered nails again.
Maurice caught Julien as he collapsed. “What happened?”
Julien heavily sat on the ground and waved away the hovering Mort. He looked up at Maurice with haunted eyes. “I’ve seen something no one should have to see.”
“What?”
“It’s too horrible,” Julien shuddered and leaned against Maurice.
Maurice stiffened. He and Mort just looked at each other. “Was Alice singing again?” he tried.
“And showing her booty,” Mort added helpfully.
Julien shuddered again, took Maurice’s arm, and put it around his shoulders. He burrowed his face into Maurice’s side. “No, but thank you for reminding me of that.”
Maurice rolled his eyes. “Tell us. You’ll feel better.”
Julien took a deep breath. “I went to visit the penguins to see if I could borrow some batteries for our boomy box.”
Maurice sighed. “Oh, and as usual, you didn’t knock.”
Julien shoved Maurice away. He tried to glare but it didn’t quite work. “Knock! Kings don’t knock.”
Maurice held his hands up in a placating gesture. “All right. Kings don’t knock. So, you saw the penguins going at it.”
“They were going at what?” Julien asked at a complete loss. Maurice whispered in his ear and he jumped up. “That’s it!”
Maurice nodded. “Maybe next time. You should knock, unless you want those psychotic penguins mad at ya.”
Normally Julien would’ve been offended at the very idea that those fishy flightless birds would get mad at him for just bursting in on them. He was king. He could go anywhere, but he didn’t need another experience like that. He tapped his finger against his chin. “I think you may be right in this instance, Maurice.” He hopped back on his throne and hung upside down. “The four of them?”
“I’m afraid so. The monkey warned me when not to go to their habitat.”
“But how would that work?” Julien eyes crossed. “Never mind. I am not wanting to know. That’s a party that’s even too freaky for me.”
Maurice just shrugged. “What they do in their own habitat…”
“You don’t think it as unusual?” Julien asked curiously.
“They’re military,” Maurice answered as if that explained everything.
Julien nodded sagely. “You’re right.” He held his hands up in front of Maurice’s face. “Now back to the awesomeness that is me. I must be groomed. Is the royal super comfy pamper time floaty throne ready?”
Maurice bowed. “Yes, if you’ll come this way.”
Julien jumped down and led the way. He strut with head held high. “Now, Maurice. I want you to groom me like you mean it!”