Chapter Text
Over in London, England. (the only city in England for that matter). We head over to the royal headquarters, aka buckingham palace.
In the one room we meet are the protagonist for this story. Prince George. (no not the 5 year old) it was Prince GeorgeNotFound. He was in his huge bedroom sitting and playing minecraft.
He was currently trying to kill the ender dragon, in creative mode. His reasoning being that ‘he was too rich for survival’.
After flying around the end, chasing after the ender dragon with his diamond sword and hitting her every time she’d rest by the portal opening, George finally killed her. He smiled egotistically to himself, proud of himself. This was the first time he had ever killed her, this was a huge accomplishment.
George took a screenshot of the ending credits that show up in the portal after you kill the dragon. He then posted it into to Twitter, captioning it “Just killed the enderdragon in my week old hardcore world!!”.
Of course everyone believed it and it got a lot of likes and retweets, even the legend Jake Paul himself replied to it.
The tweet surprisingly blew up and George was enjoying this new found attention. He loved how SSSNIPERWOLF replied with “British people have minecraft?”
He loved how much praise he was getting to. He wanted more, he wanted to please his people and the other peasants of the world.
What could he do to achieve that?
George began to think, long and hard. After about 2 minutes he decided on killing a dragon in real life. That would be so impressive and he’d be labelled as the new ‘St. George’.
Maybe they'd add a new day to the calendar based on him too.
‘St. George’s Day 2’.
Even better, it’d be a bank holiday, making half the population favourite him and love him even more.
George was smiling to himself as he fantasised about this new reality, smiling really wide. He probably would’ve looked kind of creepy if someone walked on him right now.
A crash from the dining hall pulled him from his little fantasy world, the smile on his face disappearing as he realised this was the reality he was in right now.
He didn’t have to live in this cruel, depressing reality any longer though, he was going to make his 2 minute daydream come true, and he was going to do that right now.
He stood up from his Dell laptop, not bothering to close it as he was ‘too rich’. He then left his room and began heading through the halls.
The floor was a red velvet and the walls were a clean white. There were also some gold decorations, a lot of them actually. Man George was so rich, he loved this palace so much.
After walking 3 miles he had finally reached the entrance door.
Normally, as you were a royal, you’d have to tell someone you were leaving so you could be protected. George however, decided not to do that, he thought he was above all that, as if he was ‘too good’ to be protected.
With that mindset and no weapon in hand, he grabbed the handle of the entrance door and pushed it outwards. The light from outside began to seep through the crack and once the door was open wide enough for George to go through, he took a step. And another.
He then began walking normally, one foot in front of another, his shoulder’s back and chin up high. He was way too good for protection.
Nothing could hurt him at all.
He continued to walk, looking around at the walls that surrounded the front garden of the palace. They were completely useless in George’s opinion because again, nothing could hurt him.
He reached the front gate and opened it. Once he stepped through he expected to see the public outside taking photos and stuff. Instead it was completely empty.
Weird.
He normally had no privacy, the public would swarm him. The quiet was uncanny.
But it’s not like he didn’t welcome the quiet, it was nice and peaceful. George felt protected, but it’s not like he needed protecting because of course, he was ‘too good’ for it.
He kept his chest up high and carried on walking, damn he felt so confident, everything was going so right today, it was like nothing could go wrong. Perhaps it was his lucky day.
George extended his foot outwards like a normal person because that’s how you walk, and tripped.
He braced himself for the impact of hitting the ground, hoping no one was secretly hiding behind a tree recording him to upload onto a british meme page because that would be so embarrassing.
George didn’t feel himself hit the floor.
Instead he had blacked out.