“It’s great! All the jokes are really funny! You’re amazing, Mommy!”
“We’ll be making some slight adjustments, but Shalsha thinks this will serve as an excellent starting point to direct the course of our performance.”
✦ ✦ ✦
Oh, thank goodness! I passed!
I felt weirdly accomplished. I wasn’t moved to tears or anything, but I did feel just a little choked up, so it probably would’ve only taken one more push to get me there. Was this the sort of satisfaction that overcoming a moderately difficult task brought? It wasn’t something I’d ever felt from just killing slimes, that was for sure.
On the other hand, it’d be super tiring to do this sort of work every day. Better to save it for special occasions…
Of course, this wasn’t the end of this project. If anything, it was just the beginning. Falfa and Shalsha had only just reached their starting line, and now that they had their script, they could get practicing and preparing for their appearance in the comedy competition.
I wouldn’t be directly involved in the process from this point onward, so all I could do was sit back and pray that they’d manage to win. All that waiting felt like it was going to give me a heart attack in a whole different way than writing the script had. I found myself wishing that I could just skip all the way from the present moment to the moment when the competition’s results would be announced, sparing me from all the fretting and worrying that was sure to come in between.
I briefly considered making a spell that would let me do just that, actually—but I realized how terrible an idea that would be before I even started. Even if I did manage to design a spell that could jump me ahead in time, I knew it would be way too advanced for someone like me to actually use…
In any case, Falfa, Shalsha, Laika, Flatorte, and—I assumed—Rosalie were all hard at work practicing their sketches.
Do your best, everyone!
✦ ✦ ✦
After I handed off my script, everyone who’d be entering the contest seemed to buckle down and practice as hard as they could. Well, everyone in the house in the highlands, anyway—I couldn’t be sure how things were going on Rosalie’s end.
I, meanwhile, figured that watching them practice would be too much of a distraction, and I did my best not to directly involve myself in the process. From what little I did see, however, I got the distinct impression that both pairs of soon-to-be comedians were quite confident in the acts they were putting together.
✦ ✦ ✦
Before long, the preliminaries arrived.
To be completely honest, I didn’t think that either group from our household had much of a chance to make it to the finals. It just didn’t seem reasonable to expect them to win their way through the sort of fierce competition I was sure they’d be facing, so I wouldn’t have been at all surprised if they’d dropped out somewhere along the way. That’s what I figured, anyway…so imagine my surprise when both of the groups from our household made it into the finals.
The news arrived while I was busy making dinner. Falfa and Laika had arrived at home around the same time as each other, and both came to tell me that they’d be going to Vanzeld for the finals. I was so dumbstruck by the news that I didn’t even think to congratulate them at first. In fact, the first words out of my mouth were, “S-seriously?”
✦ ✦ ✦
Is it just me, or is this household moving up in the world in the weirdest trajectory possible…?
✦ ✦ ✦
It’s definitely too late to change course now, though, isn’t it…?
“We were given tickets to let our family attend the finals, Mom. Please come and watch us achieve great things,” Shalsha said as she handed a ticket over.
“Sure. I’ll come watch,” I replied. “I feel a little responsible for all this, anyway, since I’m the one who wrote your script and all.”
I sure didn’t believe it would turn into this big of a deal while I was writing, though…
✦ ✦ ✦
Our whole family headed out to Vanzeld Castle together, just like usual. We weren’t riding our pair of dragons this time, though—instead, Fatla was giving us a lift.
When we were all aboard (which is to say, once Fatla had transformed into her full leviathan form and we’d climbed onto her back), Vania gave us an explanation for why we’d been sent an escort.
“It goes without saying that the finalists would be invited to the capital, and seeing as two groups of finalists came from your family in particular, it’s hardly surprising that a leviathan would be dispatched to provide you transport.”
“Right, yeah. That does make sense, when you put it that way,” I said with a nod. “Don’t you two work for the government, though? I didn’t think that this comedy competition was a state-sponsored event.”
Vania winced. “Ugh… You have an eye for details. In short, the government has offered the event its aid…and Her Majesty has joined in as a judge, as well…”
Now there’s something we didn’t know earlier! “Oh, so Pecora’s one of the judges?” I said. “I guess she really does like sticking her nose into all sorts of places…”
Just then, Fatla’s voice rang out, almost like it was being broadcast through a PA system.
“Wait a minute—the judges haven’t been announced yet! You’re not supposed to tell anyone until they’re formally revealed!”
“Ahhh! I didn’t mean to say that… It was a slip of the tongue! Not my fault! I mean, well, I guess it was, really… Okay, so it was totally my fault, but please let me off the hook!” Vania babbled. I had to wonder if that ever worked out for her.
“I mean, it’s not like any of us know what sort of comedy Pecora’s into, so what’s the harm?” I said. “But then again, if anyone did happen to know one of the judges’ tastes, they probably could use that to their advantage. I can see why they keep their identities secret.”
“Right, exactly! It wouldn’t be fair anymore!” said Vania.
Not sure if the person who let the info slip should be so quick to jump in and explain that.
“Oh! Come to think of it,” Vania said before pausing to give each of us a long, appraising look. “Your ghost isn’t with you today, is she?”
“Oh, Rosalie’s coming in from the Thursa Thursa Kingdom this time,” I explained.
“Now that you mention it, I do remember hearing that a ghostly performer had entered the competition.”
Something about the phrase “ghostly performer” sounds weirdly powerful, huh…?
Rosalie and Muu had apparently also won their way into the finals, by the way. I hadn’t seen any of their material, but I had a funny feeling it was going to lean heavily into the fact that they were ghosts.
My daughters and the dragon duo both went off right away to find unoccupied rooms to rehearse in. It seemed that none of them felt like they had any time to relax, what with the competition looming on the horizon. It sort of felt like we were members of a high school sports club, doing what we could to cope with our nerves en route to a tournament venue.