The Pied Piper of Hamelin v.20.00

The Pied Piper of Hamelin v.20.00

After the Pied Piper vanquished all the rats into the river and the town of Hamelin fucked him out of his reward, he decided he was going to kidnap all their children and hold them for ransom. He decided he’d seduce them with song just like he did the rats and lead the children up to a cave where he’d trap them inside. Then he’d go back to Hamlin and demand his money. And if they didn’t give it, then fuck those kids.

This was the Pied Piper’s plan until he remembered his brother, the Fied Fiddler. The Pied Piper began to think how a long, drawn out scheme against the town of Hamelin might be a more just dessert, not to mention more profitable than kidnapping and ransoming all their children in one shot.

Instead of holing those children up in a cave, The Pied Piper went on a trek for his brother. A few towns away, he found his brother, the Fied Fiddler, and explained what had happened. The Pied Piper explained how he’d relieved the town of Hamelin of their plague of rats, just to get screwed out of his reward.

Then the Pied Piper set about explaining how they both might handsomely profit from his revenge.

Days after their meeting, the Fied Fiddler strolled into Hamelin playing beautiful songs on his fiddle. The townsfolk, enchanted with his playing, inquired who he was.

He said, “I am the Fied Fiddler. And brother to that asshole the Pied Piper.”

The townsfolk burst into laughter, recalling the job they’d pulled on the stupid Pied Piper.

The Fied Fiddler assured them how his brother, though a fine player of the pipe, was nonetheless an asshole and a liar. The townsfolk of Hamelin were relieved at such a report – it easing their minds a bit to have fucked over a lout rather than an honorable man.

Hamelin found the Fied Fiddler most agreeable, so he hung around for a while, ingratiated himself to the town.

Then, one day, his brother, the Pied Piper, made his shocking return. From the distance, the townsfolk picked up on the same notes that had once lured the rats into the river.

The Pied Piper made his triumphant return to Hamelin with a fresh wave of thousand of rats trailing him. He’d lured them from neighboring villages who’d held up their end of the bargain. And he’d lured them out of the pastures and forests of the countryside. But, instead of delivering these vermin into the river, the Pied Piper intended on delivering them to the town of Hamelin as revenge.

The Pied Piper strolled through the town, playing his song. At the town square, he stopped. The rats, broken of their spell, scattered to all the basements, rooftops – any crack or crevice that would hide them. Satisfied in delivering their plague, the Pied Piper left Hamelin again. And in weeks, the pestilence was as bad as before the Pied Piper had first come.

For weeks, the town of Hamelin suffered and grieved. Again, they offered five pounds of gold to any man who might relieve them of their suffering. The Fied Fiddler said he had an idea. He played his strings – a special song the town had never heard – and just like his brother before, the rats came out of their hiding, enchanted by the Fied Fiddler’s playing. And just as his brother had done, the Fied Fidler led all the town’s rats to drown in the river.

The Fied Fiddler returned for his reward. Having learned their lesson with his brother, the town gave the Fied Fiddler his five pounds of gold. The Fied Fiddler kept four and returned one, explaining he wasn’t a greedy man.

The townsfolk celebrated and praised the Fied Fiddler for his heroism and graciousness. The townsfolk were relieved for having finally done the right thing. The Fied Fiddler was soon honored with a statue of himself and his fiddle in the town square. The Fied Fiddler was honored at his recognition by the town. The town was honored to be able to recognize such a gracious, honorable and heroic man.

But a month later, the Pied Piper returned with another swarm of rats. He marched through town, stopping at his brother’s monument, where he ceased playing and the rats dispersed into Hamelin like smoke. Then the town had to pay the Fied Fiddler another four pounds of gold to exterminate them again. And this cycle continued for a very long time.

The town of Hamelin grew to hate the Pied Piper. They wished to murder him, but couldn’t. So instead, they vilified him in their papers and their gossip in the streets.

For years, the Pied Piper returned with his wave of rats every month. He explained all he wanted was his five pounds of gold, then he’d stop. But the town had invested too much in the Fied Fiddler. They’d spoken so admiringly of him. He was trusted. His monument stood erect in their square. They were too invested in the Fied Fiddler who never allowed the town to forget what an asshole his brother was for always bringing those rats.

So the Pied Piper continued with his monthly parade of the plague. And then the Fied Fidler would seduce the rats into the river again, always collecting his four pounds of gold. And then, on the first Sunday of each and every month, in the mountains far away from Hamelin, the Pied Piper and Fied Fiddler would meet and rejoice in laughter and split their monthly bounties that the Fied Fiddler collected from Hamelin and the Pied Piper collected from Christelin. The town of Christelin, where the Pied Piper had a monument erected in his image. Christelin, the town the Fied Fiddler snuck away to every month. Christelin, where the Fied Fiddler – with the sea of mice, snakes, locusts, bats or bees that trailed him – was the villain, and his brother, the Pied Piper, was the beloved hero.

2 thoughts on “The Pied Piper of Hamelin v.20.00

  1. Nice gig for pipe and fiddle! Gotta make that coin somehow. A genius perpetual money machine! That river must be rancid AF, though, with rotting rat bodies! I feel like PETA should protest and the EPA should step in here to regulate these activities, sir.

    Like

    1. seems the easiest way to make that coin is to capitalize and exploit any sorta weakness you can discover. maybe not so difficult as things seem pretty frail. creativity in manufacturing division feels more valuable than creativity in art these days. the first one to find the slightest crack gets the gold after wedging it open for all the coins to spill out like a slot machine on triple whatevers. anyway, enough politics. thanks for reading. thanks for commenting. your time, interest and feedback are always appreciated. stay well and peace.

      Liked by 1 person

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