The tables were set and the guests were seated. From just outside the door Fiz breathed out a prayer. He straightened his shoulders then walked into the black tie dinner wearing a chicken costume.
Fiz walked out to the center of the room and began singing the doleful end of a popular dwarf opera about a mine that had run dry and the dwarf who’d worked it all his life. When he finished the room was absolutely silent.
The Chancellor stood to his feet. “In all my years as a Chancellor no one has ever, EVER, treated me like this.”
“Normally, I’d come here,” the Chancellor said, “and the Duchess would fawn all over me, there would be gifts and compliments and plenty of words that no one meant. But you did not do that. You chose to do dances, to speak nonsense and to dress like a chicken.”
He paused and looked steadily at Fiz.
“You willingly played the fool,” he continued. “When most would have shown power or prestige you humbled yourself.” Martuke began smiling. “That takes integrity. You are what the Dwarven Regency needs in a Lord High Grumgrum.
“Come, let us discuss this in greater detail.”
“You honor me Chancellor Martuke, but uhh… would you mind if I take the chicken suit off first? It’s kinda itchy.”
The Chancellor nodded.
As Fiz turned to go he looked over at Ed and Fred. They smiled and gave him a thumbs up. “For realsees” they both mouthed at him.
Fiz gave them a feathers up and walked out of the room; the bravest chicken there ever was.