The Sultan's Pillow Copyright 2013 Bryan Rogers
Illustrations Copyright 2013 Lisa Garr
Available on Amazon
Every spring the Sultan Kasib and his pillow, named Nahid, would throw the Perennial Patty-Cake Pajama Party. Whereas other sultanates might host a dance or ball, “Hey, look at me! I danced in a circle! Oh look, I just went around again!” The Perennial Patty-Cake Pajama Party was the most smashing of pillow fights!
Kasib would ask everyone over to his palace for the night. All the hotty-toddies and high-to-do’s were invited. From she-pharoahs, belly dancers, baristas, palm readers, and cucumbers to kings, ambassadors, shopkeepers, frog princes, and other noble men whose only purpose was to strut around and twirl their canes.
They came to the party in chariot-rides, sporting their most colorful pair of polka dot PJs and fragranting their very best toilet water! Which, because it was called l’eau de toilette
in French, they thought it cool to splash water out of the toilet and wear it like perfume.
Everyone brought their favorite pillows with them--pillows of every shape and size! There were square pillows, round pillows, throw pillows, catch pillows, teddy bears seconding-as-a-pillow pillows, pillows boasting superheroes like Sinbad and Ali Baba and the 40 thieves, rubber vanity flatulence pillows--“Oh, that wasn’t me! It was my pillow!” Pillows stitched with porcupine quill and swan feather, which was some new kind of sleep acupuncture. Don Juan and His Night of One Thousand Fleecy Fibrillations pillows. A boot. (what? a boot? who invited that guy?) Swedish Swiss massage pillows with a kangaroo inside that really got kicking when you laid down! And bright orange pillows with pull knobs and nozzles that you could fill with air. After all, you never knew when a flotation device could come in handy in a desert. One old lady with more makeup than skin even brought her powder poofer for a pillow!
They would all gather in Kasib’s parlor, nibbling on snippets of conversation and those delightful little sausage wieners dipped in barbeque:
“Have you seen the sand this week? I swear it’s a new shade of yellow.”
“You still live with your mother? Really, at 73? Is that part of the inheritance?”
Then somebody would say something outrageous, “I tell you my hat is bigger than yours! If a giant elephant with big curvy tusks mistook you for a seat cushion and sat on your head, it would still not be as impressive as my hat!”
They would get bopped in the face with a pillow!Whap!
And that person would get thwacked on the back!
Then all fluffy feathery fluster of chicken coop broke loose! And pillows and feathers tore through the air!
Kasib would tuck his chin down and put his arms up over his head, bumping and staggering through the lot of ‘em. He looked like a sheep piņata bouncing on a string as they swat him silly with pillows--Fwap!Thonk!Poof!
In the case of one elderly guest, they would simply hold up their pillow so Kasib could run into it. Jumping into the pillow and falling back with a “Wow! You walloped me good! I think you shook a booger loose!”
There were so much fluffies, feathers, and floating fuzzies in the air that it was like a big bag of popcorn had swelled up and Ka-BOOM
!! Pillow stuffing all over the place!
Then Kasib's pillow, Strong and Gallant Nahid, would slide to the rescue on a fibery horsehair rug. Swinging her tassels like nunchucks and trumpeting victory, “Toot Ta Loo! Toot Ta Toot Ta LOOOO!!”Thwap!Biff!Pow!Kablam!!
And save her cotton-dusted sultan! Bonking anyone who brandished a pillow with a stiff thump on top of the head!