The queen of the night has arrived. Brought by the royal coach, she is brought in by two footmen who transfer her to the royal suite. Along the way, she waves to her subjects, calling out, "whatcha lookin' at motherf--er?!"
I am tonights maidservant and get an update on the mood of her royal highness (HRH) from the two footmen. Its seems HRH is in a bit of a mood tonight, having overindulged in the grog, as it were. "Ah ha" murmur the subjects. All those living in the realm are well aware of HRH love of the grog. Alas, this happens thrice weekly at least.
The queen is a bit of a passive aggressive old fart. One minute she is shouting curses at me and the other maidservants, the next minute she is as meek as a mouse.
Oh well....the royal robes must be changed. We can't have HRH in soiled duds. So change them we do, of course. Next is the royal meal, the most important part is the presenting of the shortbread cookie. The queen loves her sweets.
The queen has settled down, taking a short nap. There is a pause in my duties. I have enough time to make THE CALL. It is one I have made many times on the queens behalf. I try to make it as soon as possible after HRH's arrival. Verily, the queen is a pain in the arse...
The call is made, there is room at the royal detoxification centre. The foot man are called. The chariot awaits. The queen is gently awakened. Of course, the news of her departure is not received well. A big of a struggle ensues. At last the footmen secure the queen, rushing her out to the royal carriage as HRH screams obscenities threatening the lives of her loyal subjects.
Once again, there is peace in the realm. For a couple of days anyway...