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Siren’s Lament – What happened at the interview

If you haven’t read the first part of that senile old dragon rambling on about the man who broke Parthenope’s heart, click here. Then his story will make a little bit more sense. Don’t blame me for his ramblings though. I’m just the guy typing.

opium tales green the dragon wasn’t so hard to find if you knew what to look for. Had he been younger and less senile, there’s no way in hell I would have found him. He would have covered his tracks significantly better.

However, he’s old and quite senile. It’s pretty weird that he still has another 400-500 years left to live, unless of course we inadvertently kill him.

I’m guessing that’s what happens though. I’d put money on him inadvertently getting killed rather than him living to die of old age.

He already confessed about two of his family members deaths. St. George killed his wife. His son died in Hiroshima or Nagasaki. He didn’t specify which one.

I’m not a munitions expert, but I’ll rule out that he died when we firebombed Tokyo because if I’m not mistaken, we used more incendiary devices to cause fires rather than a bomb that would blow things up. A war historian can correct me if I’m wrong. I’m more an art and culture historian.

Dragons obviously aren’t going to die in a fire. They don’t burn, no matter how hot it gets.

How I found him

It’s easy if you know what to look for. Have you ever seen a person do something they shouldn’t have been able to do? Like all of a sudden, disappear? Change form? Lift something they shouldn’t be able to lift?

Usually when that happens, you think to yourself that your eyes are playing tricks on you and you don’t tell anyone because you’re afraid your employer would think you were taking drugs. So you go to your grave not knowing that you really saw a dragon or an Olympian. Yes, there are a few of the latter left too.

There was an old Star Trek episode where Olympians were from another planet and some of them came to Earth to act as Gods. If you’re wondering how accurate that is, well, that’s pretty much it. But it gets worse.

You see, us humans are way smarter than others give us credit for. In the past 100 years, we learned how to blow up cities with a single bomb, cure cancer almost half the time, build fake hearts, and walked on the moon. That’s how it all starts.

Stephen Hawking explains the speed of light pretty well if you bothered to read his book. You see, we’re getting closer than we realize to send things at light speeds.

Now the down side. Most intelligent species learn to destroy their native planets. So, they go elsewhere. Olympians and dragons and vampires and all those things aren’t magical. They know science better than we do. So they appear like magic to us. Nope. It’s science.

Some of them ended up here and blended in. Most of them ended up elsewhere on nicer planets and started over again.

That’s it. If you’re wondering how I found him, he was a goofy-looking man with a three hundred year old jacket and a hot blonde on each arm. You can’t get more cliché than that.

Oh, one more thing I want to clear up. I’ve heard him play the violin. He’s lying. Paganini would kick his ass.

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Siren’s Lament Part II

If you haven’t read the first part of that senile old dragon rambling on about the man who broke Parthenope’s heart, click here. Then his story will make a little bit more sense. Don’t blame me for his ramblings though. I’m just the guy typing.

Opium Tales Blue You again. Why do you keep asking me about Parthenope? I already told you that Odysseus never even encountered her and that was her younger sister that threw herself into the sea.

Oh. You wanted me to talk about the man who broke her heart recently. Right. Right.

But first, you know why I don’t like you, right? You remind me of George. Yeah, Roman. That George. You don’t look a thing like him. But something about you, you remind me of him.

You know he killed my wife, right? You didn’t know that? Yeah, that was my wife he killed. And then people made him a Saint?

Opium Tales a dragon storyteller
St. George and the Dragon (artwork circa 1390)

I really don’t like a lot of you, especially what happened in Japan.

What do you mean you don’t know what I’m talking about. Japan. 1945. My son was visiting there and the whole city blew up. He got blown to bits while a hundred thousand of your kind got incinerated.

No, of course he didn’t get incinerated. You can’t incinerate a dragon. He got blown up.

There’s not that many of us left nowadays. Most of us have left Earth.

Why am I here? Because I’m old. I only got about 400 or 500 years left to live. We’re not like Olympians that live hundreds of thousands of years. We only live for a few thousand.

What? You didn’t know Olympians don’t live forever? Of course they don’t. Half of them were already killed when they had that revolution against the Titans.

No, Gaia isn’t an Olympian.

Don’t you people know anything?

Oh, the Siren. Living forever? No, stupid. That’s just a story. They live even shorter than we do. No, there are no Sirens left. Parthenope got moved to the Caribbean Sea but she died of old age. She was long dead before all those pirate stories that you guys all exaggerate about.

The man who broke her heart? Wow, Roman. You’re gullible. No man could break her heart. I just wanted to make you type more.

No, she died of old age and her body long ago was eaten by the fishes. There is no story to tell you. I don’t like you. Leave me alone.

No, stop typing Roman. I said leave me alone.

My thoughts about all this

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Siren’s Lament intro

opium tales dragon forever is a very long time. You’ve heard that cliché many times. Yet, can you think of a single example of how it could be used in reality?

You see, you people get stories wrong all the time. Especially when they’re really, really old.

Like Parthenope for instance. You know this story. Parthenope, the beautiful Siren, fails to lure Odysseus to his death so she casts herself into the sea and drowns. And when her body’s washed up, they bury it.

Yeah, right! Like that really happened.

For one, Parthenope never failed to entice anyone. That was one of her less powerful sisters.

And for another, Parthenope can’t die. She’s like forever. Really, really old. Never aging. The Gods, well, they just move her around.

So yes, another Siren failed to lure Odysseus and got all bummed out and killed herself. I guess Sirens aren’t used to failing. Must be nice to have that kind of track record. Even the best of the best lose a lot of times.

I’m sure you can think of people more than I can. I’m tired and old, and kind of forget mortal names. The Gods? Yeah. I can name all of them. Their kids? Most of them. Their affairs? Yeah, I remember most of them.

Hell, I myself have banged a few Goddesses in my times. Goddesses love us dragons. We’re not quite on their levels, but I’m sure we’re way more exciting than you mortals. You all are boring and predictable. Plus, you die really soon.

What’s old to you in your 21st century? 70? 80? My Gods. I’ve taken naps longer than some of you losers have lived.

Stupid mortals. You’re all a bunch of fools. All, except a few of you.

Some of you I respect. Like Beethoven for instance. He wrote some good tunes. And Paganini. He could really play the violin. Not as well as I can. But still, I got to respect a man who played the violin so much that a Goddess pretended to be a mortal woman and mated with him.

Yes, there’s a little Paganini going around that’s going to live long enough to see you people colonizing the moon. Of course I’ll still be around. Most of you won’t. But I’ll still be around. (I’ve been to the moon before. You’ll have to bring a lot because there’s not much there).

And Genghis Khan. He was neat. Some of you reading this are his offspring. Of course, you pale by comparison. But you have his blood.

Now, what was I talking about again? Oh, yes. Parthenope. Beautiful, beautiful Siren.

Oh how I wanted to mate with her. Never did have the opportunity. Not like she’d say no or anything. I just haven’t gotten around to it.

And yes, in case you’re wondering, I can take your form. I do it all the time. I kind of like pretending to be you because of all the mortal creatures, you and whales are by far the most fun to pretend to be.

But back to Parthenope. A mortal broke her heart once. Now, as much as I don’t respect most of you, this guy, I respected. He was one of those “once in a century” guys. Like Genghis Khan.

Part II of Siren’s Lament is here

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All the King’s Horses

This is Part XIV, the final chapter of Humpty Dumpty. Part I of Humpty Dumpty is here. A slightly different version of this story was going to be the original pilot of the TV show I was working on in 2006. You can read about that story here.

opium tales several soldiers attempt to clean up what’s left of Humpty Dumpty’s body, but throw up whenever they get close.

“We’ve got to get him up, men!,” their leader shouts. “Before His Majesty gets here. We’ve got to bury him.”

Only his head and neck are intact. Guts dangle from what’s left of his midsection and worms crawl in and out. The grossly obese body is in pieces. The soldiers hold their noses, but still can’t get close enough to get past the stench and clean it up.

The ancient man continues his story to the little girl. “And all the King’s horses and all the King’s men, couldn’t put Humpty together again. Some say they just let the flies, and rats, and the vultures eat what was left of him.”

The little girl’s father storms out of his cottage. “Bah! Get out of here you crazy old man with your crazy old lies!”

The ancient man turns around and leaves. In another cottage, the peasant with no hands, although considerably older, looks out the window and wipes a tear from his eye.

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“Who has come to kill me?”

This is Part XIII. Part I of Humpty Dumpty is here. A slightly different version of this story was going to be the original pilot of the TV show I was working on in 2006. You can read about that story here.

Opium Tales Battle Don Juan walks by Humpty Dumpty’s door but a guard sentinels the entrance. Don Juan pretends he forgot something and turns around forgetfully, then lunges quickly at the guard and slits his throat.

He catches his body before it falls to the ground and puts it down quietly. Then he sneaks into Humpty Dumpty’s room.

Humpty Dumpty has his back turned. “So, who has come to kill me?”

“It is I,” Don Juan answers.

“Don Juan? I did not expect you. Did my women not please you?”

“Alicia was my wife.”


Don Juan whips out a bloody short sword. “I’ll give you five minutes to ask God for forgiveness.”

Humpty Dumpty finally turns around. “I don’t need forgiveness.”

“One last chance.”

Humpty Dumpty stares hard at Don Juan, then walks over to the sword on the wall and takes it down. He looks at it, swings it around a few times, then turns and faces Don Juan. “You were quite impressive. But those were mere mortals. If anyone needs to make peace with God before he dies, it’s you, my friend.”

Humpty Dumpty does some fancy solo sword work, then attacks first. In only three attacks, Don Juan disarms Humpty Dumpty.

Instead of finishing him off, Don Juan tosses his sword to the ground. Humpty Dumpty laughs.

Don Juan takes a few steps forward and jabs Humpty Dumpty in the face twice. Then Humpty Dumpty throws a pair of hooks which Don Juan avoids and counters with a solid right cross to the face.

Humpty Dumpty feels his face and feels wetness. He takes a look at his bloody hand, then his face turns mean, real mean.

Humpty Dumpty lunges at Don Juan but Don Juan does a wrestling flip and throws Humpty Dumpty over the wall. Humpty Dumpty falls down, down, and down, all the way down.

Don Juan’s back broke in the process. He reacted naturally, which was a mistake as Humpty Dumpty is the heaviest man in the Kingdom.

Don Juan falls to the ground. He cannot move his legs and starts bleeding from the mouth. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out Alicia’s crucifix.

“Now, we can both rest in peace, my love,” he says softly right before he dies.

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“Forgive me Father”

This is Part XII. Part I of Humpty Dumpty is here. A slightly different version of this story was going to be the original pilot of the TV show I was working on in 2006. You can read about that story here.

opium tales red outline humpty Dumpty sits with his legs over the tower’s wall. He throws something over the edge and it falls and falls and falls, all the way to the ground several hundred feet below.

In another room in the castle, Don Juan kneels in prayer. He’s thinking of his dead wife, chasing her as Alicia laughs heartily.

Don Juan thinks of how he used to come from behind her and kiss her on the neck, and she’d turn around and touch him.

He thinks of how they used to walk hand in hand in the snow.

He remembers their wedding, in a beautiful giant Gothic cathedral. How beautiful she looked. How happy she was. He remembers her lovely eyes, staring into them and kissing her lips. Despite over a hundred people cheering them on at their wedding, she was the only one in the world who mattered. She was the only one in the world he saw.

He remembers the search party. His frustration and the others wanting to give up, yet he kept going as they turned back one by one.

Now we see an older Don Juan, a man who lost his passion for life and only wants one thing.

“Forgive me Father,” as his right hand wraps around the crucifix, “for I will sin.”

Part XIII of Humpty Dumpty is here

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Don Juan and the Redhead

This is Part XI. Part I of Humpty Dumpty is here. A slightly different version of this story was going to be the original pilot of the TV show I was working on in 2006. You can read about that story here.

“You knew her?”

“Yes. I was her closest friend here. She was like a sister to me.”

The redhead continues. “She made us laugh when we all wanted to cry. But he broke her spirit. He kept saying none of us could make him happy. He took out all his anger on us girls.”

“Please tell me where she is.”

The redhead starts to cry. “She’s not with us anymore.”

“She escaped?”


“Tell me.”

“You wouldn’t understand. The fakes smiles. The loneliness. The smell. None of us wanted to live any more.”

“Is she-”

“I stole some of his money. Bought poison. I loved her dearly. I loved her so dearly that I…I gave her mine.”

Don Juan puts his head down. He pauses. The redhead doesn’t know what to do. She wants to move forward and touch and console him. But she doesn’t.

“Where is she buried?,” Don Juan softly asks.

“They burned her body. Didn’t even give her a proper burial.”

“Her gold cross?”

“Wait.” She retrieves it, holds onto it, then hands it over to Don Juan. It’s a gold cross with a gold heart pendant. “Here. I’ve been hiding it from him. She was his favorite.”

“Thank you.” Don Juan takes the cross with the pendant, kisses the redhead on the forehead, and leaves the room.

Humpty Dumpty Part XII is here

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“Where did you learn to fight like that?”

This is Part X. Part I of Humpty Dumpty is here. A slightly different version of this story was going to be the original pilot of the TV show I was working on in 2006. You can read about that story here.

humpty dumpty opium tales several Lords sit with Don Juan, the winner of the jousting tournament, and with Humpty Dumpty at the head of a large, medieval table. Humpty Dumpty displays his wealth without shame. Gorgeous rugs to hunting trophies to stolen artifacts decorate the castle walls.

Humpty Dumpty completely ignores the joust winner and starts a conversation with Don Juan.

“So, where did you learn to fight like that?,” Humpty Dumpty asks Don Juan.

“The Crusades, Sir.”

“Ah. I too fought in the Crusades. It’s where I earned my great wealth. Funny. I was much slimmer then.”

Humpty Dumpty describes those days in loose details, but reading between the lines, Don Juan ascertains that Humpty Dumpty and his men did less than honorable things to acquire his wealth, and may have done some less than honorable things with women that had the misfortune to cross his path as well.

“So tell me, do you have a wife?,” Humpty Dumpty asks.

“Yes, and we’ll be heading home tomorrow.”

“Do you, like other women?”

“What man doesn’t?”

“I’ll tell you what. My friends with experience and I have all gone our separate ways. Tonight, you choose one of my castle girls. Let her entertain you for the evening. And tomorrow, before you head back, I want to talk to you about an offer within the castle. I could use a man with your skills.”

“Thank you kind Sir. If I find the right woman, we’ll have a nice little talk.”

Humpty Dumpty raises his glass of wine. “To women.”

“To love,” Don Juan toasts.

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A Day at the Tournament

This is Part IX. Part I of Humpty Dumpty is here. A slightly different version of this story was going to be the original pilot of the TV show I was working on in 2006. You can read about that story here.

opium tales tournament humpty Dumpty has the best seat at the tournament. He sits next to a beautiful but terrified young woman. They sit amongst the Lords and Ladies.

In the other parts of the stands, the peasants really enjoy themselves. Poor, scraggly, sunburned, and missing teeth, they look forward to this day more than any other.

There are two fields, one for jousting and one for sword fighting. Two jousters practice their gallops in one field and in the other, multiple armored men practice their sword swings and footwork.

“What a fight!,” the announcer shouts into a wooden bullhorn looking device. “Next up, we have a former champion versus a stranger. Please welcome back Sir Edward!”

Some of the crowd cheers wildly.

“And visiting all the way from the Kingdom of Castille, please welcome Don Jew-ann!”

“Don Juan,” Don Juan corrects.

“Don Juan!,” the announcer shouts.

The crowd gives a sympathetic clap.

Edward and Don Juan bow to each other and the fight begins. Edward attempts to circle Don Juan, but Don Juan heads straight for him, doing some fancy solo sword work. Edward slices but Don Juan blocks it and immediately pounds him with his sword. Edward falls to the ground within seconds.

Edward’s armor protects him from serious injury. Had Don Juan’s sword been sharpened and Don Juan been in a real fight situation instead of a tournament, it would have been obvious Don Juan would have taken Edward’s life before you could count to five.

“Let’s hear it for Don Juan!”

The crowd roars as they’ve never seen a stranger come in and dominate a previous champion like that. The musicians play Medieval music between fights and Don Juan quickly rises to the top of the board with each fight.

Each fight goes almost exactly the same. Don Juan goes straight for his opponent and either knocks his sword away or knocks him to the ground within seconds.

By the end of the tournament, Don Juan stands on the first place pew, above his second and the third place opponents. A beautiful young Lady awards medals around their necks with Don Juan getting the nicest one. As Don Juan looks into an audience, the crowd goes wild and one enthusiastic fan flashes her breasts.

Continue with Part X of Humpty Dumpty here

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Angelo the Scribe

This is Part VIII. Part I of Humpty Dumpty is here. A slightly different version of this story was going to be the original pilot of the TV show I was working on in 2006. You can read about that story here.

opium tales green in those days, things were a lot simpler. However, most people couldn’t read or write.

It wasn’t a sign of stupidity. Rather, wealth.

Angelo wasn’t the smartest kid. But he came from the right family. Thus, he learned to read and write and got a job doing just that.

Now, Angelo sits in his tent writing names of contestants. The wizard appears behind him in a cloud of smoke.

“You forgot one contestant,” the wizard suggests into Angelo’s ear. “Write down Don Juan as a sword fighter.”

Without looking back, Angelo does exactly as the wizard orders.

“Very good boy, Angelo. Now, give Humpty Dumpty the best seat in the spectator’s box. Make sure he watches Don Juan fight.”

Angelo grabs another sheet of parchment that arranges where the Lords and Ladies sit. He scratches out another name in the front row and replaces it with Humpty Dumpty.

“You will forget I came to you tonight.” The wizard disappears in another puff of smoke.

Angelo keeps working as if nothing strange happened.

Part IX of Humpty Dumpty is here