CHAPTER 1
Prince Carlos Charles Charming peeked through a tiny opening in the stage curtain. The theater was too dark to see much. His ears, however, gave him lots of information. The air buzzed with murmurs of excitement.
Carlos knew a large and lively crowd when he heard one. But never before had he stood before a crowd this large or this lively.
The bells on his jester hat jingle-jangled with anticipation.
This is it, Carlos thought. The big time. The Village Arena! The biggest theater in Faraway Kingdom! And everybody sitting out there is here to see me!
An excited old man with brown skin and gray hair joined Carlos at the curtain’s edge. This was Jack the Jester, Carlos’s friend and teacher. Jack taught Carlos everything he knew about jestering.
“The show is sold out, kiddo,” Jack said with a smile.
“Sold out?” Carlos’s mouth dropped open. “Really?”
Jack’s smile grew wider. “On the other side of this curtain is an audience of one thousand people.”
Carlos could hardly believe his ears. “One thousand people!”
Jack gave the boy a gentle pat on the shoulder. “You’re a star, kiddo!”
“Wow!” Carlos said. “I am a star!”
But Carlos’s brain also twitched with worry. Hopefully not too big a star, he thought.
Carlos’s fingers nervously fluttered over the strings of his lute.
Maybe I’m pushing my luck.
Carlos had been secretly performing as a jester for months. His mom and dad, Queen Cora and King Carmine, had no idea he had a secret life. They’d be furious if they found out.
“A prince,” they often said, “should be princely.”
Jestering was not princely. It was about as far from princely as a person could go.
But Carlos had been careful. He usually only jestered at small events, like birthday parties or bar mitzvahs.
But a big show? In the Village Arena? With an audience of one thousand people? How do you keep something like that secret?
I’m definitely pushing my luck, Carlos thought.
But it was too late now.
The show must go on.
An announcer’s voice boomed over the loudspeakers: “ARE YOU READY TO LAUGH?”
The audience whooped and cheered. It was quite a noise, but the noise didn’t seem to impress the announcer.
“I SAID, ‘ARE YOU READY TO LAUGH?!’”
This time, the audience went wild. Roars and shouts and piercing whistles filled the theater. Carlos was knocked backward by the wall of sound. A part of him was frightened by the crowd’s intensity. But another part of him—a part that was growing larger and stronger with each passing second—was walking on air.
Jack leaned toward Carlos’s ear. “You, young’un, are gonna be great.”
Carlos’s smile stretched from ear to ear.
The announcer went on, “PREPARE YOURSELF FOR THE MIRTH-MAKING MERRIMENT OF THE FANTASTICALLY FABULOUS FUNNYMAN! THE ONE! THE ONLY! THE JESTER WHO IS BEST-ER! THE GREAT COMI-CARLOS!”
The curtains parted. The shouts of approval washed over Carlos like a waterfall. It was wonderful.
Carlos bowed to the crowd.
The cheers continued.
Carlos bowed again.
The cheers went on.
Then Carlos bowed a third time. And a fourth time. And a fifth.
He kept bowing, on and on and on, until the cheers were gradually replaced with a new sound: a sprinkling of giggles.
Carlos kept bowing. Twelve times. Thirteen times. Fourteen.
The giggles were replaced by chuckles. The chuckles were then replaced by a steady, growing stream of laughter.
Carlos kept bowing. Twenty bows. Twenty-one.
The laughter kept growing. Carlos milked the audience for every bit of merriment he could squeeze from them.
At last, Carlos stood up straight. The crowd was so wrapped up in the silliness of it all that they applauded wildly. They applauded as if not bowing was some kind of an achievement.
Carlos opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He closed his mouth and bowed some more.
Big laughs.
Never before had Carlos felt so in control.
I have them in the palm of my hand, he thought.
Carlos couldn’t remember any other moment in his life when he’d felt so perfectly happy.
His next bow was lower than the ones that came before. Much lower. He paused mid-bow, his head resting near his knees. Then, suddenly, he turned the bow into a somersault.
Carlos sprang to his feet, acknowledged the newest wave of applause, and plucked a few notes on his lute.
“Wanna hear a song?” Carlos called out.
“YEAH!” the crowd boomed.
“Me, too,” Carlos replied. “Does anyone know how to play this thing?”
More laughter.
“Anyone? Anyone? Fiiine, I’ll give it a shot. Sheesh! When is someone going to start entertaining me?”
Carlos had been playing the lute for only a few months, but it had come to him easily. Music was now a big part of his jester routine.
He strummed a few chords and began to sing.
I’m a prince who is also a jester.
And this is what I like to do.
When the king and the queen do not notice,
I sneak off to tell jokes about poo!
The crowd cheered.
Carlos paused his strumming. “The other day I ate three cans of alphabet soup,” he said. “This morning I had a vowel movement.”
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