The Merde de la Creme

History is laden with the names of those who accomplished great and/or terrible things.  Alexander the Great.  Ivan the Terrible.  Vlad the Impaler.  Attila the Hun.  William the Conqueror.  There are a lot of them.  All the greats aside, one must assume that they only represent the creme de la creme of history, in terms of noteworthiness at least.

So... what about the merde de la creme?  It's time somebody shed some light on that. I'll be that guy.

Introducing:

The Tale of the Tales That Weren't Worth Telling

'Twas many a rag-wearing mud farmer who thumbed his nose at King Frances the Mediocre.  Nary an exceptional thing had been accomplished since his crowning, which had been heralded as the "event to be missed of the decade!" by bards, traveling minstrels, and sidewalk didgeridoo players.

Prince Lucien the Lummox was in line for the throne, or so he thought.  In reality, what he was in line for was a funnel cake stand in the castle courtyard called "King's Kakes", operated by a large gypsy woman in an overflowing bodice named Isilda the Inappropriately Dressed.  Several people stood in front of him in line gawking, as he scratched his head wondering how long he'd have to wait before it was his turn to be king.

His sister, the very ladylike Princess Persephone the Probably Got Knocked Up Behind a Midden, sat in an alcove overlooking the courtyard, crushing empty PBR cans against her calloused forehead and pitching them down onto the crowd with obvious disdain.

Things had been quiet for a hundred years; ever since the failed invasion from Deng the Disappointing.  He and his generals, Mike the Marginal and Ulysses the Unremarkable, had perpetrated an invasion so ineffective that it went entirely unnoticed.  Their army was defeated immediately by a small section of barbed wire fence, and they had beat a medium-paced retreat.

Just outside of town was the manor of Duchess Delilah of the Leisurely Clap, so named not because she was lazy and prone to contracting STDs, but because she was the self-proclaimed inventor of the "sitting-ovation".  Her trail of suitors began and ended with Sir Thomas Loogie, the Earl of Hokka.  He only had one testicle, but that fact is irrelevant to this story.

The neighboring kingdom was for a time ruled by King Randolph "Deez" Gnutz, who lost his throne after his castle was sacked by the hordes of Tyrannous "Tea-bag" Sanchez, from Rhode Island.  His tales, to this day, remain unsung.  Sanchez fought... dirty.  His army closed in on Deez in a zipper formation, effectively tucking him further and further away until he had no recourse but to scratch out a living down in the dingle, where he grew a mustache.  Deez is survived by a phrase which he so eloquently coined:  "T'aint so bad."

Tyrannous inevitably relinquished all his assets to the boorish reign of King Peter the Pathetic and his son, Prince Peter the 2nd Most Pathetic.  What came afterward were a few decades which were in no way noteworthy, populated only by the jaw-droppingly uninteresting rule of Marvin the Meh.

"What kind of a king was he?"
"Meh."

Marvin's only accomplishment was to be listed in the Guinness Book of World Records as having set the least amount of world records in the world; a record which was negated the very instant the book was published.

Many more followed; too many, really.  Nick the Negligible, Alan the Acceptable, Patrick the Paltry, and Igor the Insignificant, to name a few.  More recently the world largely ignored Biff Sinatra, Franks younger and much uglier brother.  He was less successful with the ladies, earning himself an industry nickname of "Old Blue Balls".

I think that's a good place to stop.  



Image:
http://www.boredpanda.com/mr-bean-historic-portraits-rodney-pike/