The Fisher King's Dilemma

"Anything wrong?" asked the Fool.

"I'm thirsty," replied the Fisher King.

"Oh, no sweat," said the fool, filling a cup with water and offering it to the King.

"I can't drink that," said the Fisher King. "Thanks all the same."

"Um, why not?" inquired the Fool. "You're thirsty. Here's water. You drink. End of problem. No?"

"Ah, it isn't as simple as just drinking a glass of water," sighed the Fisher King.

"I'm confused," faltered the Fool. He knew he was a Fool, so he figured he was probably missing something obvious. "Could you explain?"

"Well, in the first place," said the King, "I know who you are. As a fool, you aren't qualified to offer solutions to royalty."

"Oh, this isn't a solution," protested the Fool. "It's pure water."

"No, you're missing the point," said the Fisher King.

"Oh, right, right," apologized the Fool. "I didn't realize that you were a king, but if the class thing is a problem, I can just call someone more ... royal in to hand you the cup. How would that be?"

"I can see this is too complicated for you." The Fisher King paused for a moment. "Come to think of it, sometimes it's too complicated for me, too. You see, I've been drinking kerosene."

"Kero-," the Fool sputtered. "No, I must not have heard you correctly, Sire."

"No, you heard right. On the advice of my advisors."

Now, who's the fool? thought the Fool. "Your advisors are having you drink kerosene? Maybe you should get some new advisors. Some who advise you to drink water."

"Oh, there are some water advocates that I'm thinking of taking on, but all of them agree that I can't quit the kerosene cold turkey, that I have to gradually cut down over a period of, oh, 18 months to 2 years. They argue among themselves over when - or if - I should start, and how long I should take, but they all agree that I have to keep drinking kerosene."

"I'm just a fool," said the Fool, "but that sounds completely bonkers to me."

"That's why my advisors tell me that I can't take a thing you say seriously," confided the King.

"Well, at least, you have some prospect of getting off the kerosene eventually, if you pick the right advisors," offered the Fool sympathetically.

"Unless, of course, ..." said the King slowly.

"Unless what?" asked the Fool, in anticipatory horror.

"We-e-e-ll," stammered the King, "unless I have to start taking flaming kerosene cocktails."

"Flaming ... what?" cried the Fool. "Why on earth would you want to do that?"

"It isn't that I want to do it," said the King. "I don't even like the unlit kerosene. My advisors say I'd better get ready for it."

"Ok, but you're going to get rid of those advisors, right?" coaxed the Fool. "You know, go with the ones who are pro-water."

"Well, the funny thing is," mumbled the King, "that all my advisors and all the prospective advisors tell me I may have to do the flaming thing. And I see them playing with matches."

"I'm sorry," said the Fool. "I've listened as closely as I could to all of this, and I've taken into account that I am, after all, only a fool, but your advisors - current and prospective - are a gaggle of bloody loonies. You really need some new advisors. In the best way. Because you obviously got these in the worst way."

"Well," said the Fisher King, "I can see why everyone laughs at you."

This bit takes off from the version of the story found in Terry Gilliam's The Fisher King, screenplay by Richard LaGravenese. I haven't seen that version anywhere else (except where copied from the movie). It beats the heck out of all the others I've seen for clarity and message. And it also turns out to be convenient for my purposes.