Once there was a boy named Jack.
Lots of stories begin like that.
In this one he had three brothers, which he often does, and their names were Tom and Will, which they usually are.
Tom and Will couldn’t stand Jack. He was the youngest; they thought he was disgusting. (Those of you with younger brothers may well sympathize.)
They thought that for a lot of reasons, but the most important one was: any time he saw something on the ground— it could be anything, it could be garbage— he’d pick it up. With his hand. And if he still liked the look of it— which he usually did— he’d put it in his pocket.
Well, they thought that was disgusting. So they called him “Dimwit.” After awhile everybody called him that, and that’s the name of this story, "Dimwit."
Now, the king of that country had a daughter, and she was the kind of person— we’ve all met this kind of person— any time you started to talk to her it would turn into an argument. If it was an argument, she had to win. And she knew she’d won if she got the last word— if she was the last person to talk. It’s how you win an argument, right?
So she got really good at getting the last word. It’s all she cared about, and I guess it’s not that hard when you’re a princess. So pretty soon people stopped talking to her, because, what was the point?
Now the king was in trouble, because she had to get married pretty soon, produce an
heir to the kingdom, or some other king was going to come in and take over. He didn’t want that to happen, but nobody was even talking to his daughter, let alone getting ready to marry her.
So the king declared a contest. “Anybody,” he said, “rich or poor, low or high: anybody who can get the last word on my daughter shall marry her” —snap! “like that.”
Tom and Will heard
that, they had their knapsacks on, they were out the door. They looked around— here came Dimwit, right behind them. “Get out of here, Dimwit!” they said; “where do you think you’re going?”
“Oh,” says Dimwit, “I’m going to the capital, going to marry the princess.”
“No you ain’t gonna follow us to the capital, and embarrass us in front of all our rich future in-laws!” They said, “Try it, and we’ll throw rocks at you.”
Dimwit watched them go down the road. “That’s easy,” he said, “I’ll follow them at a stone’s-throw distance.”
They all walked along, walked along. Then Dimwit saw something on the ground. He reached down, picked it. “Hey fellas!” he called out. “Look at what I got!”
“What have you got this time, ya Dimwit?”
“Look,” he says, “dead pigeon!”
“Dimwit! Oh, that’s disgusting! (Look, he’s picked it up with his hand!) Throw it away!”
“What,” says Dimwit. “Me throw away this wonderful old dead pigeon? Heck no! I’ll just brush off the ants, here, and then I’ll put it down in my pocket... along with everything else.”
“That’s disgusting, Dimwit!”
They walked along, walked along.
“Hey, look at what I got this time!”
“What is it this time?”
“Greasy piece of string!”
“Dimwit, don’t pick that stuff up! Throw it away!”
“Throw away string? Are you kidding? You can always use string! Nosir, I’m going to put it down in my pocket, along with everything else.”
“That’s disgusting, Dimwit!”
Walked along, walked along.
“Hey,” said Dimwit. “Look at what I got this time!”
“What is it this time?”
“Look (sniff sniff sniff) it’s an old shoe! Got a hole in the sole... look, you can see right through it.”
“Oh no, he’s putting it next to his eye. Dimwit! Don’t do that! You’ll get athlete’s eyeball! Throw it away!”
“What, me, throw out this wonderful old shoe with the hole in the sole? Heck no. I’m going to put it down in my pocket, along with everything else.”
“That’s disgusting, Dimwit!”
Walked along, walked along.
“Look, Tom, next time he calls out like that, let’s not look around.”
“Good idea Will, we’ll just ignore him, he’s bound to stop sooner or later.”
“Hey fellas! Look at what I got this time.”
“Remember,” the two brothers told each other. “We’re ignoring him.”
“Hey fellas! Look at what I got.”
“No matter what he does, we’re not going to look around.”
“Hey, look! Hey look! Hey look at what I got! He look! Look look look look look look look. Look at what I got. Look at what I got Look at what I got!”
“We’re ignoring you, Dimwit! We’re not gonna turn around.”
“But look at what I got!”
-boing!-
“See?”
-boing!-
“Look at that.”
-boing!-
“All right, all right. What is it this time?”
“It’s an old bedspring.”
boing!
“Look at that!”
“Dimwit, throw it away!”
“What, me throw away this bedspring? Heck no. I’m going to put it down in my—”
boing!
(His pocket was too full, the spring bounced back out.)
“Down in my—”
boing!
“in my—”
boing!
“Wait a minute. Maybe if I”
squelch
“There it goes! -squelch- I can just screw it -squelch- like this -squelch- down -squelch- into -squelch- my -squelch- pocket, -squelch-squelch-squelch- along with everything else.”
“That’s disgusting, Dimwit!”
Walked along, walked along.
“Hey look!”
But the brothers didn’t look back after that, so they never saw when Dimwit found the mate to the first shoe, also with a hole in the sole that you could see right through, that he crammed down into his pocket, And they never saw when he found the busted open coathanger, that he folded up so it would fit into his pocket, or the old door wedge, or a number of other objects, too numerous to mention.
Finally they got to where they could see the castle. There was a long line of people waiting out front. Then they went down into a dip, and when they got up to where they could see again,
they saw there was a short line of people, and a lot of folks walking away.
Tom grabbed one of them going away, said, “Do you mind telling me why you’re leaving? Don’t you want to marry the princess?”
And the man said, “No, I don’t mind telling you why I’m leaving. And I wouldn’t mind marrying the princess. But the king got tired of everybody trying to get the last word on his daughter, and they couldn’t do it. He said, they were just giving her practice, which is the last thing she needed. And he said, from now on, anybody who tries to get the last word on his daughter and they can’t do it is going get be branded, like a cow, with a red-hot branding iron. Now, fun’s fun, fair’s fair, but I like my skin just like it is, I’m going home.”
Tom said, “What do you think about that, Will?”
Will said, “Home sounds pretty good to me right now, Tom.”
Then Dimwit came up, said “Hey, if you guys are getting out of line, let me get in front of you.”
“No you don’t!” they said, “You get back there! We were here first!”
Because, “Boy, if Dimwit went ahead and won the contest, we’d have to move out of the country. King Dimwit! Nosir, can’t have that.”
So the line moved along at a pretty rapid clip. There’d be a pause, then a yell from inside the castle, and the line would move up one. Pause, yell, line'd move up one. Pretty soon it was Tom’s turn.
Tom came into a big, big room. In one corner was a big open fireplace. In the other corner was the princess— arms folded, tapping her foot.
Tom thought, “All right, I’m going to go up to that lady, and I’m going to talk. That’s what this is about, talk. Whatever I say to her, I’ll make sure it’s obviously, stupidly true. ‘It often gets dark when the sun goes down.’ — that kind of thing. ‘If you want to get wet, you might want to start by trying water.’ ‘Nothing like food— when you’re hungry.’ Like that. Things she can’t possibly argue with. And then, whatever she says after that, I’ll just agree with her. ‘Yes ma’am,’ I’ll say, ‘I can’t argue with that!’
I won’t even be arguing with her, and I’m bound to get the last word. Man, that’s a good idea. I don’t understand why nobody thought of it yet.”
He took the long walk over to the princess. “Good afternoon, Ma’am.”
“Well,” she said. “You’re a fool, aren’t you?”
Tom swallowed hard, “Yes ma’am,” he said, “can’t argue with you...Uh...Warm in here, isn’t it?” — which it was.
“Yes,” she said. “It’s warm in here. But it’s downright hot over there!”
He looked at where she was pointing, she was pointing at the fireplace. And there on the coals was the red-hot branding iron.
He took one look at that, and his mouth dried up, and his tongue swole up, and he tried to say something, but his dry swollen tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and all he could say was “Yarg. Yarg.”
The king clapped his hands, the guards moved forward, there was
a yell, and the line moved up one. Then it was Will’s turn.
Will had a plan too. He’d spent all his money on a fine suit of clothes, nice vest, big floppy hat with a feather in it (which was the fashion at the time) and some of those high heeled riding boots with the designs up and down the sides. He wasn’t from Texas, he didn’t even ride a horse, but he thought they made him look— nice.
“I’m so handsome,” he thought as he walked across the hall
click click click “I’m so charming” click click click
“She won’t be able to help herself. She’ll want to marry me.”
click click click click click click. “Good ahfternoooon, Madoooom!” He swept off his hat, made a big bow, and almost fell over.
“You’re a bigger fool than that one I just got rid of,” said the princess.
“Ha ha ha, very amusing,” said Will. He suddenly didn’t know what to do with that big hat, started to fan himself with it. “Warm in here-- veddy warm.”
“Yes,” she says, “it’s warm in here. And it’s hot over there!”
“Over there ha ha — yarg!” same thing happened to Will, his mouth dried up he couldn’t say a word. The king clapped his hands, the guards moved forward, there was a yell, the line moved up one.... and now it was Dimwit’s turn.
Dimwit came in, stuff creeping out of the corners of his pockets as he walked. He went over to the Princess. “Howdy, ma’am.”
“You’re the biggest fool
I’ve seen today.”
“Warm in here.”
“Warm in here, hot over there!”
Dimwit looked over. “A fire!” He said. “Just what I need to roast my bird.” He took the pigeon out of his pocket and walked over to the fire, pulling feathers off as he went.
“Hey! You can’t do that,” said the Princess.
“Oh no? Why not?”
“Well,” she says, “for one thing, you’d need something to cook it on. You’d need a skewer or a spit.”
“Well, I’ll just take out this bent-up coat-hanger here, straighten it out like this, spit the bird on it like this, and roast it over the coals, like this.”
“It won’t work,” said the princess.
“Why not?”
“The bird will fall off the spit, fall into the ashes and be ruined.,”
“Guess I’d better tie it on with this piece of string— like this.”
Now, nobody had gone this far with the princess yet.
“Ok,” she said. “Fine. Bird will cook; as it cooks the fat will run off; when the fat runs off the bird will shrink, when the bird shrinks the string will get loose, your bird’ll fall into the ashes and be ruined. Mph.”
“If that happens,” said Dimwit, “I’ll take up the slack with this wedge, right here. Mph..”
“You know what?!” said the princess.
“What.”
“You’re just twisting up everything I say to you!”
“I don’t know about that,” said Dimwit, “but ya want to see something twisted up?” -boing!- “Now that’s twisted up!”
“You’re enough to wear out my soul!”
“You want to see a worn-out sole?” (Out came the shoe.) “Here’s a worn-out sole! Look, you can see right through it.”
“I never heard of anything like this!”
“I’ve got the mate to it right here, it’s just like it, you can see through it too.”
The princess said, “Mph! Mph! Yarg!” But she couldn’t get out a word.
King clapped his hands, the guards moved forward, the Cardinals moved forward, the band struck up the wedding march, and they were married on the spot.
And in after years he was known as “King Jack— the Dim-Witted.”
