Alexander: It looks like a pretzel.
Morokephalos: Sire, pretzels have not been invented yet.
(gargled breathing and a dull thud)
Alexander: Clean this up.
Ozopnoas: Right away, sire!
Alexander: So I’m supposed to untie this thing?
Ozopnoas: Yes, sire. And then you will be the unquestioned ruler of all.
Alexander: (turns and stares) I’m not that already?
Ozopnoas: Um, yes, of course you are, sire.
Alexander: Then why are we here?
Ozopnoas: Um, well, you see, sire–
(gargled breathing and a dull thud)
Alexander: Somebody take care of this mess. And clean the blood off my sandals.
Deilandro: Yes, sire, right away, sire, it’s my privilege to serve, sire!
Alexander: Anybody seen my dad around?
Deilandro: Um, well, he isn’t here, sire.
Alexander: Where is he?
Deilandro: He’s, um, dead, sire. Pausanias killed him.
Alexander: Ah, that’s right. Well, bring me Pausanias.
Deilandro: Sire, I beg for forgiveness, but Pausanias is, um, you see, he’s–
Alexander: Spit it out, fool.
Deilandro: He’s dead, sire. A thousand pardons for my–
(gargled breathing and a dull thud)
Alexander: Ugh, my sword is getting dull. Somebody get me a whetstone. And do something about these intestines–they stink.
(Alexander looks closely at knot.)
Alexander: It’s a very twisty knot.
Orthologos: You are very wise, sire.
Alexander: I clearly know how to untie this knot, but I am curious to know if you think you could do it.
Orthologos: (gulps) Sire, my meager intelligence is surely not–
Alexander: Enough hedging. Answer.
Orthologos: (slowly looks away from Alexander and at the knot) Sire, it appears that this loop here may possibly be important. If it were to be pulled on . . .
Alexander: Yes, I agree. I am going to pull on that loop. Go ahead.
Orthologos: Yes, sire. (pulls on loop, but knot does not unravel) It does not seem to be working, sire.
Alexander: Interesting. You were wrong.
Orthologos: I beg forgiveness, sire. (closes eyes and cowers)
Alexander: I’m bored of this. (draws sword and cuts knot) There, it’s untied.
Orthologos: But sire! The prophecy! It must be untied!
Alexander: It looks untied to me.
Orthologos: Sire, cutting the knot is not the same–
(gargled breathing and a dull thud)
Alexander: (addressing no one in particular) What now? Is there a Rubik’s Cube I need to solve somewhere?
Tachydidaktos: Sire, the Rubik’s Cube–
Alexander: (cold stare)
Tachydidaktos: Ah, yes, sire. I’ll get on that right away.
