Royal Flush

 

 

"Do hold your tongue, prince," said the queen; "as the lady is eating her soup!"

 

"But queen," said the prince, "I feel I must remonstrate on the bold exuberance of the king's attire!"

 

"You may not remonstrate," said the queen; "and you may not speculate!"

 

"I did not speak of speculation, my queen!" said the prince.

 

"But you wear your intentions on your lapels!"

 

The prince harumphed, polished his pince-nez and departed with haste and a potato in his pocket.

 

 

 

The 'lady' slurped inelegantly on a sliver of pheasant.

 

I may soon be rendered insensible by the calibre of my companions! - thought the queen; but she knew not to express such considerations, as her position as Head of State necessitated an almost impossible tolerance of the insufferable.

 

"What a delightful repaste!" declared the lady, as she mopped up the remainder of the soup with a slice of Hovis. "May one make enquiry with Cook as to the specific composition of the second course?"

 

"Alas, good lady," said the queen, "one may not, as it now time for us to depart to the spaceship."

 

"Pardon?"

 

"I meant drawing room. Or parlour."

 

"Make haste! Make haste!" said the king, clapping his hands and getting in a bit of a kingly fluster. "We cannot be late for the emperor!"

 

"And what emperor would that be, my king?" said the lady.

 

"The Great and Impertinent Emperor Xzintee of Pootle 57!" said the king.

 

"Oh yes, I did mean spaceship," said the queen.

 

 

 

Emperor Xzintee stood outside his spaceship with one finger in each of his three nostrils and one in each ear. He then opened the hole in his face and uttered what can only be described as the sound of an oxygen-starved cat trapped in one of those room-sized computers from the 1960's.

 

"Where is the royal interpreter?" said the queen.

 

"I am here, my queen!" said the prince, as he bounded into the room with all the grace of a constipated camel.

 

"You are the royal interpreter?" said the queen.

 

"Yes, my queen!" said the prince. "On account of my hosting of the 2019 hunting party to the Pootles of the Squelish System, I am the only person on planet Earth who can speak Pootlese!"

 

"God help us all," said the queen.

 

Emperor Xzintee emitted that ghastly sound again.

 

"Interpret, prince!" said the queen.

 

To which the prince replied, "Emperor Xzintee wishes to offer his condolences regarding the demise of the lady's iguana" - the lady sniffed - "and to compliment the king on the bold exuberance of his attire."

 

"Do you jest, prince?" said the queen.

 

"Well he likes the kings hat."

 

"Continue..."

 

The prince nodded, the emperor screeched and the prince said, "Emperor Xzintee also wishes to compare your feeble kingdom to the leavings of a Slarnothian Dung Worm, and suggests that all inhabitants of Earth vacate their pathetic - and I think he said 'snivelling' (or it might have been 'quivering') - um... planet within 72 hours, lest they (or I should say 'we') suffer a formidable and devastating demostration of our (or I should say 'their') WMD."

 

"WMD?"

 

"Weapon of Mass Dusting."

 

The queen frowned, the prince waved his hands in front of the emperor's face, the emperor made a sound like a videotape getting tangled in a clapped out video player, and the prince said, "The emperor thinks planet Earth is very dusty."

 

"Is that so?" said the queen.

 

"Can you imagine what would happen if all the dust from the planet was removed?" said the prince.

 

"No."

 

"Nor me."

 

Emperor Xzintee started to get a bit anxious, which equated to stamping his flappy feet in the manner of a toddler, whilst simultaneously tugging on his earlobes (also flappy), pinching his three-nostrilled nose and saying, "Honk! Flench! Treddle! Treddle! Thwap! Sponk!"

 

"What ails the emperor?" enquired the queen.

 

"He needs a wee," said the prince.

 

"He deigns to offer critique on our planetary housekeeping, then presumes upon our hospitality with respect of the royal water closet?" said the queen.

 

The prince shrugged.

 

And the queen said, "My lady, do desist from your undecorous demeanour" - the lady sat up straight and extracted her finger from her belly button - "and prince," the queen continued; "would you be so kind as to impart to the emperor that one is unwilling to avail him of our facilities until such time as he rescinds his vulgar and impertinent threat to 'dust' planet Earth?"

 

The prince poked Emperor Xzintee in the eye.

 

The emperor said, "Nnnnngggrrrrdd."

 

"Well?" said the queen.

 

"The emperor agrees to your terms," said the prince.

 

 

 

Negotiations concluded, all parties retired to the smoking room.

 

"One does wish we could get some smokeless fuel," said the queen.

 

"Jolly ho!" said the king, as he plonked his kingly derriere upon a plush leather recliner and picked up a Wii remote and nunchuck.

 

"I would simply kill for a quail's egg sandwich!" said the lady.

 

"Mario Kart or Sega Superstars Tennis?" said the prince, as he picked up the other Wii remote and nunchuck and plonked himself in the plush leather recliner next to the king.

 

The queen sighed and hit the bottle.