Bad Ideas Gone Wrong Productions presents

Turandotty

A Turandot spamfic by Geoduck


The sheer spectacle of it all was incredible. The son of heaven himself, the emperor, on his throne, resplendent in gold, surrounded by his retinue of scholars and civil servants in their severe black robes. The princess in her ceremonial garb, with her hosts of handmaidens, not to mention her Amazonian personal guard. The eight judges, elderly and trusted, who would decide whether or not the princess's riddles were answered correctly. Dignitaries from foreign lands, each in their finest, glittering with silver and precious stones. The people of Peking, from all walks of life, from the most prosperous merchant to the poorest beggar, and everyone in between.

And, it hardly bore mentioning, the imperial executioner, Pu-Tin-Pao. His ominous presence insured that no one would forget the gravity of the scene that was to follow. A man was putting his life at stake in order to win the princess.

And in the midst of this incredible scene, he stood. The unknown prince. Tall, slim, handsome, and looking as unlike a typical barrel-chested, middle-aged Italian spinto tenor as possible.

The first riddle: "What is the phantom which dies each night, but perishes with the dawn, only to be reborn again?"

Simplicity itself! A child could answer it! "Hope!"

The second riddle: "What burns like a flame, but is not? What grows cold with death or burns with ardor?"

It could hardly be more obvious! "Blood!"

The third riddle: "What is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?"

"Turan... Wait, what?"

"You heard me, prince."

"But... but... that's not... that wasn't supposed to be..."

All further protestation was cut short as the unknown prince was hustled off to the beheading stone.

The princess smiled smugly, her virtue once again secure. From his throne, the Emperor beckoned her over.

"Daughter? Why did you choose to change the third riddle?"

"Oh... well... you have to do that sort of thing when you're princess, you know."