We spend the rest of the morning going through reports. Nothing too unusual. But…well, I'll reveal you another secret about Amarkia. Yes, we have a lot of secrets.

We are the only country in the world to have super powers. We keep them in a maximum-security, top-secret laboratory under the Palace. We also keep other important things, like powerful weapons, talking vehicles, spy gadgets, and our best supercomputers.

Anyways, Larry said to me, "Hey, I invented another power."

I'm always eager about these things, so I stopped sipping my 32oz, 100%-all natural frappe mocha, and turned my chair to look at him. "Yeah? What kind of power?"

"I'm calling it the Techno Power. When you active it, it causes all electrical equipment to fail. Cars, computers, generators, radios, TV, power plants…"

"Basically everything electrical?"

He nodded.

"Just like an EMP?"
"A what?"

"Electromagnetic pulse. Like, when a nuclear weapon explodes on the ground or high in the atmosphere, it disables all electrical equipment."

"Yeah, but with this one, you can choose the target, like, if you only want to disable cars or computers."

"Sounds interesting."

"Yeah, and I made another power: Cyberpathy."

I raised my eyebrow at that. "Cyberpathy? What does that do? Control what other computers think?"

"Eh, well, it does have to do with computers. Basically, you can control what a computer does."

"Even if you're far away?"

"Yep."

Huh. Sounded smart. And dangerous if it fell into the wrong hands. "So," I said, "if I'm playing Mario Kart Wii, you can beat me if you're in another universe?"

"Yep. And even if you're not in Multiplayer Mode."

I thought of that for a moment. "Well, that's nice and all, but, don't you think it's sort of, you know, unnecessary? I mean, causing a global blackout is not really one of our goals."

He shrugged. "Guess it's just a way for us to waste money and have fun making new things."

I chuckled at that. Didn't know what to make of it. At that moment, I heard a deep rumbling. I looked around. "What was that?"

Larry said, "Sorry, that was me. I'm getting hungry, I think."

Come to think of it, I was getting hungry myself. "Yeah, it's almost noon. Why don't you order lunch?"

"Good thinking," he said, tapping his head. He dialed the number and said over the phone, "Hello, this is the King's office. Yes. One turkey ham sandwich with Russian dressing, American cheese, and lettuce. And a Dr. Pepper. And His Majesty will have two sandwiches: one peanut-butter jelly with whole grain bread, and a chicken sandwich with cucumbers, avocado, and tomatoes. Send him a root beer. Okay, thanks."

About ten minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Larry went to open, since it can only be open from the inside. Only Larry and I can open from the outside.

The lunch boy walked in. I think he's a middle-aged Struthiomimus. I mean, I know kind of dinosaur he is, but not how old…

Anyways, he came in carrying a large tray with two bottled glass drinks and three wrapped sandwiches. "Here you are," he said, giving Larry his order. Did the same with me. Except he addressed me as Your Majesty, of course.

Larry opened his sandwich. "I gotta get a personal lunch man," he muttered.

"What's the matter?" said…Bert. That's his name. Bert Monker.

"Your white bread has been the same for the past few months: more yellow than white. You ought to personally toast it."

"I only got two hands."

Then, I said, "Yeah, you also got two feet. Why don't you use them? Get outta here!" I pointed to the door.

"All right, all right, I'm going!" He muttered on the way out. Something about "ungrateful leaders." Whatevs! It's still my country.

My deep thoughts were interrupted when Larry shouted. "Hey! They forgot to put the Russian dressing on it. They gave me mustard."

"Well, you told them to put it in," I said. Then a funny thought crossed my mind. "Hey Larry, maybe it's in the Dr. Pepper."

He looked at me with a furious face. "Ha, ha, ha. Very funny. I see you got your order right."

"I haven't even opened it, Mr. Temper!" Say, that wasn't a bad idea. I was starving. I started opening my sandwich, when Larry said, "And they gave me Seven UP instead of Dr. Pepper."

I tried to hide my laughter, but a little slipped out. When I looked down at my meal…my amusement changed to sudden shock, then to confusion, and finally, to great anger. All within five seconds.

"Hey!" I exclaimed. "They gave me rye bread with the PB&J."

Larry spit his food out. "Rye bread?!"

I shrugged. "I'll just pick the seeds out."

Then, I looked at my other sandwich. "And," I said, "I got bacon instead of chicken, and pickles instead of cucumbers." Blech! Oh well. Better than nothing.

At least I got my ice cold root beer that I could…I got cream soda, instead. How do you like that?

Well, I guess I could learn to like this lunch. Larry and I have been going through the same thing for 3,087 years. We could live with it. Live with it, but not bear it.

Well, after lunch, I stayed another hour cutting taxes and tightening border security. Then, at 2:15 pm, I grabbed my things, said bye to Larry, went out to the elevator, up two floors, and to a door marked RDCT. Royal Defense Classes and Training.

I take classes just for Amarkian monarchs on how to defend the country. I have them every four months.

In these classes I learn hand-to-hand combat, sword fighting, archery, gun shooting, etc. If I'm Commander in-Chief of 1.5 million soldiers, I need to learn how to fend off attacks.

Anyways, I walked in the training chamber. They had 75 different types of guns from small .22 revolvers to M16 shotguns to Army tank cannons. Of course, I don't try all of them.

Anyways, I sat down at a desk. My Royal Weapons Instructor, Mr. Kirk, came in. He's an Ankylosaurus. Best for teaching defense. He's an ex-Air Force Commander.

So, he comes in, carrying books in his mouth. They walk on four legs. Short, muscular legs. They've got armor, thick armor all over their body. Even their eyelids. Oh, and their deadliest weapon? The 800-pound club at the end of their tail. Can break ribs, teeth, jaws, organs, a car door, and metal…almost anything. Can even kill a Spinosaurus.

He came in and said, "Good afternoon, Your Majesty. Sorry for having you wait."

"That's all right, Admiral."

"Very well. Last time, we were discussing the working mechanics and functions of a caliber .48 handgun. The inner manifestations of the calibration and functions…."

Oh, no. Here it came. The big, technical, nerdy, boring, explanatory speech. More like a sermon. I mean, it's not that I don't understand the words. I do. But it's very boring.

I tried very hard to stay awake and pay attention. I pretended to take notes, while Kirk kept talking for a full hour. No wonder he started getting blue and purple all over. He wasn't even breathing through that sermon of his!

But, I of course, out of common courtesy and respect, listened and took notes. After all, I had to learn how to defend myself and my loved ones. There is a lot of people who want me dead. Or worse.

Not that I'm the violent type. When I'm mad, I usually either yell or get really sarcastic.

Anyways, I stared target practice. Had to shoot with twelve different types of guns.

I got an 83. Only reason I didn't get a 100 was 'cause, when I was practicing with a double-beam .32 shotgun, I sneezed and fired. Nobody was hurt, but the bullet struck the ceiling lamp, causing it to fall on, my, uh, instructor. Oops. Didn't get hurt. Mostly 83% anger. Hence my grade, 83%.

Ahem. Yes, well, anyways…

I did good with archery practice. Got a 98%.

Got a 100% on sword fighting. That's always been of my best fields. I just got that natural act for handling swords. But, I guess if I'm fighting with large wooden planks, it counts, too.

So, anyways, I finished up at around five in the afternoon. I went back to my office to get my stuff, and Larry and I went out to the reinforced, bomb-proof parking garage.

So, I tell him how it went and we're talking, we get inside TIV, I sit on the driver seat and…splash!

Huh? What the...?

Larry bursts out laughing and I looked under…that smart-aleck! Mr. Practical Joker had struck again. In case you're wondering, Larry had placed a half-gallon whoopee cushion.

Yep. A classic 21st century practical joke.

Boy, I could've given him a good punching!

But, you know, I was on the way home. Or we, I should say. Tragically, Larry and I live under the same roof. But, well, he is my best friend. And he really helps me in tough situations.

Anyways, I ignored his little outburst of childish performance.

Didn't talk much on the way home. Traffic wasn't too bad. Just the radio made noise. News, weather, sports. Usual stuff.

Got to the Palace Gates at around 6:15. The Palace is on a regular, rural, two-lane street. It's noticeable, but it's really peaceful. I have all the important people I need. To one side of the Palace lives our family doctor, our dentist, and our ophthalmologist. Right across the street lives the Chief Royal Architect and Designer, Mr. John Woods. He lives there with his wife and their four kids, including their beautiful fourteen-year-old daughter, Lilia.

That's right. She lives across the street from us. She's been living there since 3593 BCE. Before my parents died.

As a little girl, she was very enthusiastic, joyful, and social. However, most of her friends were girls. No boy has ever liked her.

However, I've started noticing her since the 7th grade. But, you know, we've never talked. Really talked. I can't recall ever having a conversation with her. All we've said to each other is "hi", and "how are you?" and "bye."

But someday…I'll have the courage. And we'll really talk. If we become friends, it'll make me happy. If we become a couple, I think I'll faint.

Anyways, just before entering the Palace gates, I stopped in front of Lilia's house. Mansion, actually. It's a huge place. They've got a two-story patio, a three-story astronomical observatory, a home theater, a greenhouse, and private library. I think manor would be better than mansion.

They also got a 60-foot tall oak tree. It dominates the front yard completely.

I sighed and said, "Larry. Think I'll ever have the guts to talk to her?"

"Oh, sure, sure. I'm positive," he said in a quick yet confident tone. "You're an international heartthrob and a genuine chick magnet. All 10 to 24-year-old girls flip for you."

"Yeah, but I want Lilia to love me for myself, not my looks." Well, anyways, I turned around and entered the gates, then parked in the garage.

Walked up to the front door, stepped in with Larry behind me. "We're home!" I yelled.

I took off my shoes and stretched real good.

Patty came down the hallway. She was wearing jeans, pink flip flops, and a light blue shirt. Her hair was in a headband. "Hello, Spiny," she said, giving me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "How'd everything go?"

"Oh, pretty normal, considering. How are you, cousin?"

"Just finished making dinner. With Kathy, of course."

We started walking down the hallways to the Family Dining Room.

Anyways, Larry asked, "What's for dinner?"

"Fried chicken and salad," Patty answered.

"Ooo! My favorite!"

I turned to him and said, "You say that to everything."

"Yeah, but if I keep saying it, you'll keep cooking and I won't go hungry or destroy kitchens."

Sigh. Didn't I tell you that Larry's a million laughs? But we still love him. He's part of the family.

Well, we got to the dining room. A small, yet fancy table. I sit at the head of the table, since, of course, I'm head of the family.

Larry sat down at the other end. Patty sits at my right. The plates, cups, and silverware were all set. Once the three of us sat, Kathy walked in from the kitchen.

"Oh hi, Spiny!" She carried a large frying pan with chicken. "I'll help you with that," said Larry, grabbing the end of the pan. Then he jerked his hand back. "Ouch!" He sat down again. "Never mind. I can wait."

I looked at him. "Not going to help our talented cook?"

"No!"

"Why?"

"'Cause it ain't cool!" Ain't cool. Get it? 'Cause he burned himself. Not cool. Of course, I laughed. But he said, "Oh stop. It was a corny joke and you know it."

"Yes, and that's all we hear come out of you," said Kathy, setting down the pan in the center of the table.

"Oh, come now," said Patty. "We must agree that Larry has a very rare sense of humor."

"Yeah," I said, "and we haven't found a cure for it yet."

Wow! You should've seen the way Larry's face looked like when I said that.

I turned to Kathy. "Where's Rob and Greeny?"

"In their room, doing homework."

"Call them down for dinner, please."

"Sure." She sat down a large salad bowl besides the fried chicken. She waked to an intercom beside the door to the kitchen. She pressed the button. "Guys! Dinner's ready!"

"Okay, we're coming," said Rob's voice.

See, our Family Dining Room and Kitchen is on the ground floor. And our bedrooms are all on the third floor. So, when we need to communicate between floors, we use intercoms.

Thirty seconds later, Rob and Greeny came in. Greeny ran up to me. "Hi, Spiny!" He threw his arms around me. "Hey, champ! How are ya?" I said.

"Did you bring me anything?"

"Yup." I reached into my pocket. "A marble."

"Yay," he said. I love it when he says "yay". It sounds cute.

Well anyways, we all sat down and began eating. Even though we all have very busy lives, we always manage to eat dinner together. Keeps us together and strengthens our love for each other.

I just wish other families did the same.