Mango Madness

First, I must apologize for my lengthy absence. The jester and majordomo both left me for five grueling days to fend for myself, and a king without his complete court can be rather daunting. Do not ask why the jester is essential to my existence here in my adopted country, but I can only suppose that his drollness is entertaining enough to quicken the pace of the heated dog days of summer (pun intended). Or is it summer? It seems I have lost track of the seasons, and now that I think about it, I do not think I have seen a change in the seasons since I arrived 10 months ago. Though the heat sticks to me daily like a thick molasses, I have noticed the rain has intensified quite a bit over the past few weeks. Ah, the torrential rains...which actually brings me to my story of my mango madness.

It is rather embarrassing, but the giant mango tree that hangs over my palace all day long is rather taunting. Its fruit is my elixir, my spirit, my absinthe. It has a unique mystical power that seems to take away all my senses and reason. Neither the apple nor the pear ever had this effect on me, and I used to mock the avocado for days on end. But I fear this mango fruit could be the bane of my empire.