once upon a time, in the kingdom of Dis, there was a monarch who stayed locked in the throne room with his crystal of memory
the only issue being every time a memory was visited, it became more and more blank, less and less real, further and further from luster
at the end of his days he was alone in a cold room dribbling from the mouth, not even remembering his own name
the crystal, once a symbol of power known throughout the kingdom, now lay on the floor before the throne, remained mounted in the monarch’s scepter, but there was no light in the vast throne room which could make it sparkle
the attendants of the court had difficult decisions to make, the monarch, whilst not technically dead, was a drooling vegetable with a plethora of autonomic bodily functions making a day in the throne room especially arduous, particularly for the chamber pot squire
the rules of the ruled must be followed, however, or where did Authority derive its much cherished mantle?
Freaking YES