Let’s see how much I can extract from this premise.
Mondo Goodbody does not expect the City of the Golden King to fall. That is to say in the first place that, to Mondo Goodbody, who has lived in the City of the Golden King their entire relatively short life, the thought simply does not occur that the flying city might cease to fly. To Mondo Goodbody, to ask if it could do that would be like asking if water could cease being wet. Mondo Goodbody, for all their strengths as a carpenter, was not one for frivolous thought experiments like that.
It is to say in the second place that, when the thought stops being experimental, Mondo Goodbody’s own first thought is that they’re flying.1Flying, you see, is a thing birds do, and Mondo Goodbody knows about birds. Mondo Goodbody enjoys the idea of their newfound ability immensely, and it is only when they realise their collection of hand-carved wooden ducks has joined them in lift-off that the sun sets on that enjoyment. When Mondo Goodbody’s emotional night of terror sets in, enjoyment might as well never have been in the room.2Unlike every single one of Mondo Goodbody’s possessions, all of which were far more in the room than, Mondo Goodbody felt, they really should be.
Ten seconds after the birds notice, Mondo Goodbody is as scared as they’ve ever been.
- 1Flying, you see, is a thing birds do, and Mondo Goodbody knows about birds.
- 2Unlike every single one of Mondo Goodbody’s possessions, all of which were far more in the room than, Mondo Goodbody felt, they really should be.