A Brief but Extensive History of the Mad King and His Rule Over the United Counties of New Britain

Introduction: Gressconsin

It is unclear exactly how or when the argument started. Some scholars place the fight’s genesis in mid-August, others early July. Some say it began as a bet, others as a friendly hypothetical, and still others as a matter of spontaneous public hysteria. For an event that has become so deeply ingrained in the public consciousness, it may be frustrating to come to terms with the impossibility of knowing exactly how or why it came to be. What we do know for certain, however, is as follows: sometime in the summer of 2011, a seemingly simple disagreement over the origins of the Mad King’s name completely annihilated the sleepy town of Gressconsin, UCNB. 

Gressconsin, situated on the border between Old New Hampshire and New New Hampshire, had, for a number of years, offered a relative sense of tranquility to its aging, suburban population. There was, of course, the occasional HOA battle or neighborly squabble, but it was nothing compared to the rampant chaos and violence of either of the Hampshires. Thus, rightly viewing themselves as a kind of “oasis of moral superiority”, the Gressconians took immense pride in their small, peaceful, well-regulated community. 

Perhaps, if things had turned out differently, the Gressconians might have continued on, uninterrupted, in their slow, peaceful way, until the end of time: sipping tea on the back porch, commuting to work, eating dinner at one big table, sleeping on one big bed.

But, unfortunately for everyone in Gressconsin, things did, in fact, turn out exactly the way they did. 

Two main parties quickly emerged: those who believed the Mad King was mad and those who believed the Mad King was mad. Parson Dick Stapleton, spearheading the position which had gained traction in the Old New Hampshire side of town, argued passionately that the Mad King was called the Mad King because he was mad, that is, that he had completely lost his mind. How he had lost his mind, or where said mind had gone, or whether or not he would ever find it was of seemingly no importance. Rather, Dick, whose face in every surviving TV clip and newspaper article is inexplicably hidden by what can only described as a hat, argued that a simple lack of reason was a reasonable enough reason for the moniker and, as Dick’s closest advisor, Gerald “I love poison” Fink, claimed on a local news broadcast, quote “anyone who says otherwise is a fucking idiot!” (to which Parson Stapleton quickly slapped him for quote “usin’ a word God don’t like”); On the opposing side, the newfangled New New Hampshire thinkers, led by Deborah Stapleton-Cosgrove (Parson Dick Stapleton’s step mother), believed the King was not mad as in crazy – and to believe such a thing was to admit one way crazy oneself!–  but rather, the Mad King was mad as in angry: bursting with an unknowable, royal, masculine rage. Deborah, unlike her stepson, never wore hats because her head was too large. Additionally, she was want to eat little sandwiches and talk with her mouth full, much to the dismay of her loyal supporters. 

The two sides fought valiantly: screaming and cursing at each other in the streets, then refusing to speak to one another, then going back to screaming and cursing, then throwing and burning things, until Gresscon’s “oasis of moral superiority” resembled just about everywhere else. 

Abhorred by the violence ripping apart their once peace-centric community, a third party emerged from the cerulean shadows, led by Rustian Sondrake of the Third Realm, an unimportant nobody with no relation to the Stapleton family. This group argued that it didn’t matter whether or not the King was mad or mad! In fact, he was probably neither! Rather, what was important was coming together as a community and healing the wounds of disagreement. 

In their first attempt at diplomacy, these “Peace Spreaders” as they called themselves, forced everyone in town to attend a potluck dinner at the church community center. Unfortunately, those that weren’t poisoned by Gerald “I love poison” Fink’s suspiciously colored cornbread, were horrifically burned when Parson Stapleton “accidentally” set his step mother, and subsequently the church community center, on fire following a snide comment about how “mad the Mad King would be if he thought about all this arguing with his perfectly good brain!” Perhaps even more unfortunately, the “Peace Spreaders” had locked all exits in an attempt to encourage enthusiastic reconciliation between the feuding factions, rendering escape from the burning building impossible. 

When the smoke cleared and the ash settled only two Gressconians had survived the affair: Anabella Partners, the bright eyed “peace spreader” tasked with locking the church community center doors from the outside, and Garkvuntle Kint, an unfortunately named 6-month-old who, in the chaotic shuffle of “goshdarn potluck dishes,” frantic outfit examinations, subsequent outfit changes, and hushed discussions of legally changing that “goshdarn baby’s” “goshdarn name”, had been left in a hot car.

 Of course, the tragedy now known simply by the town’s name could have easily been avoided. If any of them had been granted audience with the Mad King and inquired as to the origins of his moniker, he might have told them the truth: that Mad was, of course, short for Madison. 

It was completely understandable, however, that this option had never been considered: the last time a boy had been named Madison in the good ol’ U.C. of N.B. was in 1972, and even then, the boy in question had lived an unimpressive life of mediocrity in the mines. As far as anyone in Gressconsin knew, Madison was a girl’s name. 

In fact, perhaps it was the trials and tribulations of growing up with a woman’s name that made the Mad King 1). mad as in clinically insane and 2). mas as in angry.