"Prince, can I borrow a billion dollars to explore this limitless two-dimensional world of ours?" asked the flat Jonathan Roster.
"No!" cried the flat prince's flat first wife. "All he shall do is find more and more empty space! Would you spend money on this while the Gauls are approaching from the West?"
"My wife, we have already hit the northern and southern boundaries of this universe, and I suspect that there may be admantium somewhere in the fields of those strange circles to the East. If we could attain that, our soldiers could have admantium shields built around them that cover a full 360 degrees," said the flat prince.
"This is a foolish venture, my husband," stated the flat prince's flat second wife. "No one has ever seen this admantium you speak of? Why send this flat Jonathan Roster out East when all the universe knows there's nothing out there but those sill circles."
The flat prince experienced a flat convulsion all of a sudden, and shook violently. Forwards and backwards he shook, left and right he shook, but he did not shake up and down, for the universe was two-dimensional. Finally, the flat prince came to a nice flat rest.
"Your answer, my husband?" inquired the flat prince's flat second wife.
"What?" replied the flat prince.
"Perhaps you need more therapy, my dear good flat prince," said the flat prince's flat psychotherapist. "I can prescribe a full assortment of drugs to ease your trauma. Forget your duties; I can provide you with relaxants to smoke."
"Just what are you implying, flat psychotherapist?" demanded the flat prince. "You think I'm mad! You all think I'm mad, don't you?" The flat prince raved, howling at his subordinates while chucking and oozing flat saliva out of his flat mouth. "Well, I'll show you! Flat Jonathan Roster, you have my approval. But fail to bring me admantium and I shall remove the flat psychotherapist's flat crushed body from my flat black vise and put you in it."
"Gulp," uttered flat Jonathan Roster.
"You say gulp! I'm the one about to be condensed in that damn vise of his," replied the flat psychotherapist. Just then, the prince's flat soldiers carted off the flat psychotherapist to the other end of the flat room and placed him in the flat black vise, which promptly condensed the psychotherapist's length and width to a minimum. "You'll see," the flat psychotherapist yelled as his body was squashed, "he'll do the same to you!"
"Gulp," uttered flat Jonathan Roster.
"Well, get going!" screamed the flat prince, and with that flat Jonathan Roster ran his flat body out of the flat room and headed due east. "And bring me back some of that admantium!"
Well, flat Jonathan Roster trekked through the endless flat forests of flat circles, and never did once find admantium. However, after wandering for a great deal of time, he came upon a group of flat people sitting around a flat fire, telling flat stories with flat characters.
"You know," flat Jonathan Roster thought to himself, "those sure look like Gauls to me. No, that's impossible. They must be some other tribe of flat people, unknown to the flat prince. I'll run back and tell him, but surely I can afford to stay here a while and listen to their stories."
So flat Jonathan Roster began to listen.
"Once, I heard a story about this one flat guy, right? And supposedly, see, this one flat guy, right, he went east a long way, you know?"
"Yes, we know, now get on with your story so one of the intelligent flat persons here can talk."
"Shut up. Done shut up, youse. So's anyways, I was juss talking about that flat guy, right? That flat guy that supposedly went east so fars he supposedly hit those damn flat princers!"
"Man, are flat you stupid. Well, that's a nice story. Now tell flat us that flat we are actually not in the second dimension, but the third because flat we have, oh, I don't know, time or some other stupid theory like that. Now shut up and let flat someone talk who can form proper sentences."
And then came the kicker... .
"Whose Gaul enough to tell the next one?" shouted one of them.
"Oh my good prince!" exclaimed flat Jonathan Roster. "What am I to do? Am I to believe this madness, spouted from the mouths of Gauls, or am I to trust that I am tired and needing of sleep and that these Gauls are really demons sent by my own insanity. What doth my mind know that it doth not tell? What dark secrets dwell within the mind that spurteth forth these Gauls before my eyes? Hell, I'm becoming more and more like that crackpot prince every day. I shall sleep now, and when I awake I will be of a clear head and the Gauls will be gone."
"Hey, did youse hear that sound? It's one of 'em flat princey princers, snuck through our eastern defenses and spying on us reserve troops out west! Let's kill 'im slow, guys!"
With that, the big, stupid (not to mention flat) square-like Gaul threw a circle at flat Jonathan Roster. It hit flat Jonathan Roster, and so he began to flatly ooze flat blood.
"Oh, I guess they are Gauls."
With that a long chase began westward, with flat Jonathan Roster sliding flatly through his flat world, dodging flat circles with Gauls in pursuit. Finally, flat Jonathan Roster made it back to the prince's home, and ran inside.
"Boy, bring you no admantium?" shouted the flat prince.
"No, sir, but I discovered that the universe is not a plane as we had thought, but that by going east long enough we can arrive west of the Gauls and attack them from behind."
"No admantium then?" responded the flat prince.
After a long silence, flat Jonathan Roster spoke. "No, sir, but I trust you shall be lenient. After all, you, sir, are a fair, flat, and quite princely prince."
"You, sir, are a jackass," shouted the flat prince as loud as he could. "Throw him in the flat black vise!"
"Don't you think you're being a bit rash?" asked the flat prince's flat third wife. "He's a great discover, not a jackass."
The flat prince thought for a moment.
"No," stated the flat prince.
"No!" shouted flat Jonathan Roster a small number of moments later as the flat black vise condensed him to a tenth his natural length and width.
Suddenly, as if on cue, the armed Gaul soldiers that were following flat Jonathan Roster stormed into the flat room.
"My lord! I was wrong," exclaimed the flat prince. "Flat Jonathan Roster was no jackass, but a genius. Now we can attack the Gauls from behind and they shall never know it to be coming!"
"Actually, my husband," uttered the flat prince's second flat wife, looking at the soldiers that the flat prince was ignoring.
The flat prince was rambling. "I shall create a national flat Jonathan Roster day and we shall all celebrate and we shall--"
With that, the soldiers tore the flat prince to pieces.
"My, my. I guess I was wrong. Flat Jonathan Roster really was a jackass," admitted the flat prince's flat third wife.
By the end of the day, the flat prince's wives and soldiers (stated in the order of greatest number) were all put to death and the prince's empire was no more. And somewhere, in a flat heaven, flat Jonathan Roster was crying.

Written March 16, 1995. My thanks go to Thatcher "Tad" Cleveland, who first coined the phrase "You, Sir, are a Jackass" -- which I was glad to yell for comic effect in a crowded cafeteria. It was this phrase that came to mind when I needed to write a "geometry short story" for a liberal arts math course at Antioch College. This document is the result of that need.