In the Castle of Sir Muxxalot.
The Queen rose in her customary dignified manner. She patted her ballooning skirt down, lifted her chin regally and proceeded to walk toward the bellowing balcony (from whence she doth speechify) whilst looking straight up at the ceiling. In the process she managed to step on Sir Jimmy the Strapping’s-strap-on, not once but twice. This drew a despairing ‘eep’ from his lips. He prided himself on owning the shiniest strap-on in the land. (The rest of his evening was spent vigorously rubbing the scuff marks thereupon, thereaway.)
As she gazed upon the Motley Crue, The queen felt definite satisfaction. Maid Maudlin the grey giggled in a corner with the Druid Nexy the maleficent, known throughout the land as the fiend of Irish fartwarbling. A deadly and fickle art, few could master, and even fewer could perform without underpants.
The monk warrior MK 39.99 struck a gallant pose, flexing his bresticles, whilst Lady Rhonco removed her dentures to laugh unreservedly. There was much gaiety in the castle of Sir Muxxalot, even though Maid Maudlin had used up all the hot water. (Later this would cause a minor riot when Cinderella Hughes attempted her prolonged nightly ablutions.)
“My fellow Steemians,” The queen stared intently at the ceiling. “It behooves me to thank you-”
At the mere mention of the word ‘hooves’, Pegasus the prancing immediately began to clap, the dainty sound of her iron hooves rang through the castle like the strident clanging of a boxing match gone awry. Lady Rhonco’s racoon immediately began dancing, shuffling and doing the running man. This only added to the gaiety.
The queen cleared her throat again. “Ahem. It behooves me to thank-”
Vigorous clapping again from the back of the room.
“-Sir Muxxy the supple for allowing us the use of his castle. I wish to inform you, in the rare event of an emergency, the exits are located at the back of the room on either side.”
The queen pointed vaguely towards the corners. She focused fixedly on a drifty bit of cobweb on the ceiling.
“We are rrrequired to muster at the back of the courtyard, near the wishing well.”
Everyone in the room groaned. The wishing well was so named for everyone wished they would never inadvertently stray near its foul smell.
“Finally, Sir Muxxy has but one request. Kindly do not share the wifi password with the help. He caught them purchasing armorware from China. We do not encourrage that sort of thing at the castle.”
The queen gestured majestically. This looked like something between picking her nose and bowing.
“I bid you goodnight.”
She turned regally. Her heavily underwired skirt threatened to balloon upward again. She stepped toward Sir Muxxy’s throne of softness. She needed a neck rub and a cordial, preferably laced with absinthe. She looked down with sincere relief. Speeches were murder on her neck. Her queenly eyes set upon Bex the Boisterous. Bex was the new scribe from the Netherland, far away to the East.
The queen bent toward the scribe.
“Milady?” The scribe desperately tried to avoid eye contact.
“Scribe, would you do me a favor?”
The scribe nodded. Slowly. The queen was known for outrageous favors.
“Would you do me the favor of unbuckling my corset?”
The scribe’s eyes widened. The last time anyone attempted to release the queen from her ironclad undergarments, two full squadrons of fire tenders were required. And the jaws of life.
“Certainly Milady. I’ll go immediately to find Shane the Salubrious. He had witnessed the procedure, nay participated many times before.”
She fled, followed by the sound of the queen sighing as she finally managed to arrange herself on a chair beneath her unruly regal skirt.
“Hurry scribe. If I don’t use the potty soon, you’ll have to take me to the wishing well.”
Everyone in the room groaned.
Hey guys. Thank @geke for this. Grinning. She made me do it. Sincere apologies to anyone who vaguely resembles any characters in this story. Part one here: https://steemit.com/steemlords/@geke/maid-maudlin-and-queenie-do-some-squatting
Sir Muxxy's throne of softness... --snort--
I'm a little worried about what's causing Queenie's skirt to billow, but we'll leave that alone for now.
Absinthe doth produce fiery bowels maid maudlin. Grinning. Be warned.
So much groaning! :D
Laughing. It's awful. I know. But I had to reply or @geke would think I'm chicken.
Thanks for replying tho. Now I am satisfied I hurt another pair of eyes besides my own. Hehe
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“Hurry scribe. If I don’t use the potty soon, you’ll have to take me to the wishing well."
Everyone in the room groaned.
Nice ending. Lots of great lines in there. You're a goof ball.
This is completely true. Lol. I never really grew up. Absinthe. Sigh.
Oh my goodness. You write so beautifully!
Hi bearone. Nice to chat with you. This tale is completely goofy. Happy you enjoyed it though. The medieval humor is not really my thing.
Hugs.
J.
It is and it was marvelous! I really enjoyed it, Thank you for writing it ❤
😇 there'll be more, lol
YES!!! You know.. I think youd do great in #STEEMLORDS :)