Popa's grand vizier, taking questions

Years ago, somewhere along my travels, I saw a distinguished looking man hurrying along a dusty road. I asked him where he was going, and he said that the emperor’s date was sick, and was on the verge of delaying the date. Anyone who could find the cure would receive a large reward and great honor. He was rushing to a distant town to summon Dr. Nino, who was known as the greatest physician in all the land. He not only was the doctor who took the time to read all the medical books, he was also, everyone knew, the only person who could understand what they meant all the time.

The problem was that Dr. Nino lived another week’s walk down that road, and the date was set for 7. I asked the man what illness afflicted the woman, and he described the symptoms. I was flabbergasted, because earlier that day I had encountered a hedgehog who spoke. No matter what I said, he responded, “holopches”. I had been frustrated and turned to go. As I walked away, he called after me; when you encounter someone afflicted with X (and he described the symptoms), provide them with hearty ale and homemade marzipan, crafted from the almonds of the abyss.

I told the man that I was a famous doctor in my own right, that traveling further up the road would be futile for him, and that if he would direct me to the emperor’s date, I would be able to cure her. He had to concede, and he escorted me to her bedside. I made a great show of examining her (while still being shomer tznius, because I already knew the cure), and with great fanfare, I called, “Bring me almonds from the abyss!” They did so, and I took out of my bag a small marzipan making machine. “All must leave the room!” I cried, and they did, leaving the door open a crack. I advised her to eat the marzipan. When she had finished, the flush returned to her jowl, and I called for hearty ale. She took a sip, and was immediately able enough to begin preparation for the date, which was good because it was only three hours until 7.

The date went well, although they broke things off later when it turned out that the girl had some cousins who got quite heavy after their second child. Thankfully it was mutual because the emperor’s great grandfather had been buried in a cemetery that was more heimish than truly chassidish, and also was buried next to his wife, the emperor’s step great-grandmother.

In gratitude, though, the emperor gave me an award of much treasure. Also, it turned out that the emperor was Popa Bar Abba. I managed to impress him further with my cleverness, and shortly was appointed grand vizier of his entire kingdom. After a period of years, he turned cold toward me, but I still harbor a fondness for him and remember well the days that we would converse over the royal chat application.

Seeing as now I am putting off doing important things, I am willing to answer questions about Emperor Popa, his kingdom, and any other questions that might require cleverness in reply, for if one has managed to gain the confidence of the great Emperor Popa Bar Abba, that person may have the solution to some of your nagging questions or difficulties.