So, I read a very funny story about how Louis XIV only ever hit two men. Neither was quite "Haha" funny, but funny that someone would even bring it up.
Upon reading this, I had the sudden urge to write a story! One could say I was hit with inspiration.
I wont say it, but someone sure could.
That being said here is my untitled masterpiece of malarkey.
Picture this
It's mid 1600's, you are a thief, a peasant, and you come upon a group of hunters.
"Oh man, these look like richie rich guys, I think I will rob them" you think outloud to yourself.
As you walk closer, you see that, "oh geeze, these are noblemen, and is that the royal signet?" But it's too late. You're already committed, and they see you.
"Heya guy!" Says one of them
"Uuuh heeey…?" You suddenly think of the time you had the nightmare of being asked to read scripture in front of the pope even though *you can't read*.
"What are you doing, wandering the woods, with nary a dog to hunt?" Scoffs the tall lanky man with the hardest wig line you have ever seen.
"Oh, you know, just, uhm, getting sticks, for.. stick...things…." Could you not come up with a better excuse, or is it the perfect excuse?
Now they are all staring, but you are finally close enough to the ugly man's purse to reach in.
As you do, however, you feel a hard swat on the top of your head, and as you shout, "I've been killed!!" You see King Louis XIV is at the other end of the walking stick that dented your dome.
Oh man, you are really in for it now.
As they all laugh at your misfortune, your belongings are taken from you by one of the men on horseback.
While the party rides off, you hear the King spare your neck, but the embarrassment leaves you feeling that you couldn't die soon enough.