Tarquin himself was too busy to notice our entrance. He stood with his back to us, at the information desk, yelling at the bookstore cat. “Answer me, beast!” the king screamed. “Where are the Books?” Aristophanes sat on the desk, one leg straight up in the air, calmly licking his nether regions—which, last I checked, was considered impolite in the presence of royalty. “I will destroy you!” Tarquin said.
