As the sun set, King Bugle stood in his castle tower overlooking his kingdom. He admired everything he ruled over—the majestic streets, the bustling market, and the many happy subjects below.
King Bugle saw the progress of his new theater construction and the statue garden where lanterns were being lit for the night. He craned his neck to see his own statue through the buildings and waved at the figure — sure that the statue would wave back.
As King Bugle stood, one of his advisers came rushing up. “Trouble in the market, sir!”
King Bugle looked back down and saw people rushing out of the market in a panic.
“Thieves?” King Bugle asked.
“Apple Country,” the adviser said. “They’re throwing apples at the merchants.”
King Bugle cursed. His war with Apple Country was a constant problem in the city. Then he noticed flames beginning to rise near the statue garden. He hurriedly pointed them out to the adviser.
“I’ll get someone on that right away,” the adviser said.
“You didn’t mention that you warned me against the lanterns,” King Bugle said. The adviser smiled and rushed inside. The adviser did not want to make the King look like a fool.
King Bugle looked down at his castle and saw his chef stomping his feet towards the gates.
“Chef, where are you going?” King Bugle yelled down.
The chef looked up at him, grabbed the white chef’s hat off his head and threw it on the ground. He stomped on it once and walked out through the gates. King Bugle was sure someone in his family had upset the chef.
I am a good king, King Bugle thought. He’d built many great things. Why did all of the problems seem to come back to him? He just wanted to look out upon a peaceful city.
King Bugle leaned over the edge of his tower and yelled towards the city, “It can’t all be my fault!”
The words echoed around the buildings for a moment. Then a response rose from a single voice among the buildings.
“Yes, it can!”