Special Notes: I must point out that not all fairy tales can be whimsical things of happy fancy and perfect endings of happily ever after. Some fairy tales are sinister and tell a tale of foreboding, and I would be remiss if I were to hide those tales and only write of candy canes and happy dreams. So, take a walk with The Jack of Diamonds in a land somewhere between imagination and dreams. Enjoy today's story. [The Jack of Diamonds and Neal Larimstraum Soupstone III] "I am The Jack of Diamonds, and I am running for Class President." I do not really want to be saying that, and I certainly do not want to be on this stage with my arms in the air as if I am attempting to guide an airplane to the ground. The crowd cheers and stomps their feet—not really, the crowd is just as bored and listless as I am. I glance at the clock on the wall and wonder if it is broke and this assembly will never end. I return to the seat between Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle and Neal Larimstraum Soupstone III. I feel much like a sardine nestled in it's little tin can. We are sitting on the stage in the assembly room of our school with the eyes of the entire class glued on us—mainly because they have nowhere else to look. The stage is of a fairly decent size, certainly it is intended to accommodate far more people than just the three of us. I wonder to myself why the chairs need to be so close together that the lace on Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle's dress is itching my arm. I try to push the lace away. Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle is apparently as bored with the entire affair as I am and ignores my attempt to push the lace away and occupies herself by drawing little hearts in a notebook. I have been trying not to look at the notebook page filled with little hearts. Mainly because there is a diamond drawn in the center of the page surrounded and outnumbered by the hearts. I feel for the poor diamond in the center of the page as the hearts close in on the doomed diamond. The truth is that Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle is sending me a message that she intends to destroy me in this election, which I find perplexing. I did not want to run for Class President, or President of anything, Class or otherwise. Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle made me run for Class President. I should back up a little bit here; you are probably wondering more about the little hearts. Well, Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle is a spoiled, bratty, and jealous girl and of late she has taken to wearing a heart pendant on a necklace around her neck. Why might you ask? Because she has decided that it is terribly unfair that people call me The Jack of Diamonds, and she does not have a nickname as well. I would so like to offer several suggestions for a nickname, but I am a good boy and will not do that, my extra-long double-knotted shoe laces should be proof enough that I am a good boy. So, Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle has decided to give herself a nickname and in her pettiness has chosen a nickname that conveys the idea she outranks the Jack of Diamonds. Little hearts have begun to litter small discarded pieces of paper around her desk, my desk, the halls, her house where I work, and I have even seen them haphazardly stapled to fence posts around town. I do not bother to mention to her that the red heart pendant she wears around her neck is made from a diamond. I just keep that to myself and roll my eyes every time I see one of her silly hearts. Now you might be thinking that this is a story about Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle, it is, but not entirely. This story is also about Neal Larimstraum Soupstone III, and how I got dragged into this mess, and what happens later to Neal Larimstraum Soupstone III, and so I begin. The whole thing started when Mrs. Berrytree, our teacher, announced that we would be holding an election for Class President. I was not the slightest bit interested in being Class President and tried to ignore the entire thing while Sandy Tealington Somernot immediately nominated Neal Larimstraum Soupstone III to the approval of the entire class. I thought it a good choice as well. You see, Neal Larimstraum Soupstone III is the son of Mr. Neal Larimstraum Soupstone II, owner of the Soupstone Coat and Hat Emporium, a fine establishment that has supplied the gentlemen of Waddlebrook with proper attire for many generations. Neal Larimstraum Soupstone III, like his father, is always dressed in the finest fashion with a three-button light-blue double-breasted vest and coat and necktie fastened in a proper fashion, and of course, a meticulous and fine top hat perched upon his head. Mr. Soupstone has been heard many times saying, "Proper attire for a proper gentleman is proper." I do not know whether such a thing is true or not, but I do know that no other boy would ever think of wearing a top hat. I certainly would not. But, being that Neal Larimstraum Soupstone III is from such a proper family, I feel he would be an excellent choice for Class President, with or without the top hat. I believe that the whole matter is settled and begin to wonder what is for lunch. I hope lunch is hotdogs and tater-tots. Lunch is, in my opinion, the very best part of the day. Sitting with friends in a tiny courtyard behind the school, eating hotdogs and tater-tots while chatting about this and that. The twins, Mena Nickel Washboard and Sestia Estermine Washboard, often bring a clever little portable cooler with a fine handle for carrying the cooler and produce a very nice little jug of which contains a fine lemonade. The twins share the lemonade with anyone that cares for such; I certainly do, and as I said, lunch is the best part of the day. —And that is when Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle stands up and says, "I nominate The Jack of Diamonds." Huh? What? I am startled out of my daydream of hotdogs and tater-tots and focus on Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle; she is smugly looking at me as if to challenge me to refuse the nomination. And I stand up to do just that. Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle sits three rows away from me, so I feel I am safe from any tantrum she might throw. Oh, how wrong could I get, I was not safe from anything. Lilly Palor Tiptus, a nice enough girl, sits in front of me and turns around and holds a piece of paper up to me. "I am sorry, Jack of Diamonds, she made me give it to you," Lilly Palor Tiptus says. Curious, I take the paper and read it, and feel a shiver run up and down my spine. The paper has the words 'remember who you work for, Jack,' written in very nice script letters. I look at Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle in shock. I knew she was a brat, but I never imagined she could sink this low, but I am The Jack of Diamonds, and I do not work for Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle. No—not for Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle at all. I work for Mr. Hornpickle, sweeping the kitchen, washing dishes and other such chores. And—by Mr. Hornpickle's order, only when I am done with chores am I to play with Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle and keep her amused, which usually involves trudging up and down the stairs at the sound of her evil honky horn. I face Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle and slowly crumple the paper, and dropping it on the floor, kick it the three rows across to Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle's desk. I am the Jack of Diamonds and will not be pushed around by some bratty, heart drawing, foolish little girl. I am a good boy—see my double-knotted laces? The class jumps up and starts clapping and several even pat me on the back before Mrs. Berrytree calls for order and the class sits back down. "Well then, I take that as an acceptance of nomination for Class President," Mrs. Berrytree says. Wait—What? Mrs. Berrytree adds my name under Neal Larimstraum Soupstone III. I stare at my name on the chalkboard; this is not what I intended at all—not at all. I meant to reject the nomination. I look at Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle; she is not even bothering to look at me but instead has a smug smile on her face as she draws hearts around a diamond in a notebook on her desk. How did she do that? I sit at my desk sulking slightly and hope the entire affair was done. It is not. Lilly Palor Tiptus turns around again and hands me another piece of paper. I read it and realize what Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle has planned. The words, written in the same very nice script, reads, 'Nominate Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle, Jack'. Of course, how foolish of me. I have to return the gesture of nomination to Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle, or I will seem like a very bad boy with single-knotted shoe-laces after she so graciously nominated me. I am stuck—return the gracious nomination or be labeled a cad. I understand now. Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle could never and would never get a nomination for Class President from anyone. Unless you are The Jack of Diamonds and have fallen into her spidery trap. I stand and nominate Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle for Class President and the class claps in respect and calls out its approval of the way I am handling the situation. "Good show, Jack." "That's how it's done, Jack." "True class, that one." "Well done, Jack." I assume everyone has also seen my double-knotted shoe-laces and realize that I am a good boy. Even Neal Larimstraum Soupstone III raises his top hat and gives me a salute. I am not concerned about the situation though; nobody will ever vote for Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle. Mrs. Berrytree adds Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle's name under mine on the chalkboard and the bell rings for lunch, closing the nominations. The class rushes towards the door as Mrs. Berrytree calls out that elections will be held in one week. The next week is a flurry of hurried activity as I throw myself into the campaign for Class President—oh, not my campaign, but Neal Larimstraum Soupstone's III campaign for Class President. I speak to each and every student in my class and make them promise to vote for Neal Larimstraum Soupstone III and not me. I helped draw campaign posters with Lilly Palor Tiptus. I am not mad at her; she is just as much a victim of Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle as I am. Neal Larimstraum Soupstone III gives speeches at lunch while we drink lemonade. Lunch turns into a grand thing with plenty of lemonade and everyone sharing bits and pieces of their lunch to make a fine party on the big stone table in the little courtyard at the back of the school. I even managed to get Loarn Lemondrop Lipstickle to agree to vote for Neal Larimstraum Soupstone III. I walked right up to that red dusty brick building that is Loarn Lemondrop Lipstickle and explained that I wanted to be Class President and not to vote for Neal Larimstraum Soupstone III. Of course, Loarn Lemondrop Lipstickle did vote for Neal Larimstraum Soupstone III out of spite. I can only hope that Loarn Lemondrop Lipstickle never figures out that he was tricked; that might not bode well for my continued and future health. Dusty red brick buildings get very irritated when they discover they are tricked into voting for a different Class President than they intended. During all this Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle did not lift even so much as one finger to campaign. She did not give speeches, or make signs, or walk through the halls making elaborate promises that she could not possibly hope to keep. Neal Larimstraum Soupstone III, however, did make some fine campaign promises, my favorite being that soda pop would pour from the drinking fountains. I thought that was a fine campaign promise in the truest tradition of campaign promises. Though I am fairly certain nobody believed Neal Larimstraum Soupstone III would make soda pop pour from the drinking fountains. The week flew by, and I became more concerned that Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle was up to something, but she gave no indication what it might be. The day of the election finally arrived, and I could not help but notice that Neal Larimstraum Soupstone III was also becoming nervous. Mrs. Berrytree marched the class to the assembly room and the class took their places sitting on the floor around the stage while the three candidates were assigned to sit on the chairs atop the stage in preparation for our final speeches. I gave my speech first and made it presentable enough as not to make Mrs. Berrytree suspicious that I was throwing the election to Neal Larimstraum Soupstone III. Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle spoke next saying only, "Thank you very much," then sitting back down and continuing her drawing of the little hearts surrounding the diamond in the center of the page. Neal Larimstraum Soupstone III spoke last, his speech written on little purple note cards. The speech was perfect and proper, and he finished by pulling his top hat off and flourishing a fine and proper bow to the crowd. The class gave a half-hearted applause, a bit like the pops at the very end of a bag of popcorn just finishing popping the last few kernels. Mrs. Berrytree lined everyone up and we marched one by one up to a little desk, wrote our vote on a piece of paper and dropped it into Neal Larimstraum Soupstone's III top hat that he had so graciously provided for the occasion. Mrs. Berrytree counted the ballots twice and wrote the tally on another little piece of paper. "Neal Larimstraum Soupstone III is the Class President," Mrs. Berrytree says. There was a fine and proper acceptance speech given by Neal Larimstraum Soupstone III and gracious congratulatory speeches given by Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle and myself. I thought that all was well that ended well, and this whole affair was finally behind us. I was wrong. Loarn Lemondrop Lipstickle began following the new Class President everywhere, his big meaty paws always balled up like giant clubs ready to pound the poor unfortunate Neal Larimstraum Soupstone III. I knew that somehow Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle was involved in this but could not figure out how she was getting Loarn Lemondrop Lipstickle to do her bidding. Neal Larimstraum Soupstone III grew more nervous each day, sitting in his desk shaking and muttering to himself, his fine proper top hat even wilted slightly to the side. I became very concerned for the state of Neal Larimstraum Soupstone's III mental health. He had been seen several times having long conversations in the center of town with the statue of Rock Topeus Soupstone, the founder of Waddlebrooke. I finally approached Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle and demanded she stop doing whatever she was doing to Neal Larimstraum Soupstone III. She was holding the drawing of the hearts surrounding the little diamond in the center of the page and rolled it up and tapped me on the chest once for each word she spoke. "You-work-for-me-Jack-of-Diamonds," Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle says. "That is what this is all about?" I say. "Say it, and I will leave Neal Larimstraum Soupstone III alone," Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle says. "Forever," I say. "Forever," Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle says. "I work for you," I say. The next morning in class Neal Larimstraum Soupstone III stood up and resigned as Class President, claiming he had health issues. I knew better, but at least Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle would leave him be now. Mrs. Berrytree informed us that the runner-up from the election would be next in line for Class President. She checked her tally sheet and... "Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle is the new Class President," Mrs. Berrytree says. The entire class turned and glared at me, and I dropped my head into my hands. The only person that had voted for Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle had been Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle; she had one vote. And I had gotten everyone to vote for Neal Larimstraum Soupstone III and had not even voted for myself; I had zero votes. Penelope Cornapeous Hornpickle had cleverly become the Class President without so much as a single vote from anyone, turned Neal Larimstraum Soupstone III into a nervous wreck, and wrapped a collar around my neck. I am such a knave and not such a good boy after-all, tomorrow I might only single-knot my shoe-laces. I do not deserve to double-knot my laces. Well, that is the story of Neal Larimstraum Soupstone III, and I am the Jack of Diamonds. Hope to see you again soon for a more pleasant adventure. Bye now.