Friday, January 6, 2012

Mission Impossible (Unless You're a Royal!)

Things have been flipping ridiculous around here with the renovations and now they tell me The Queen has ran off to detox.  I actually knew about this as soon as it happened (the whole notifying next of kin shit and all) the problem is I heard QUEEN and DETOX in the same sentence and I haven't been able to pick myself up off the floor ever since.

I'm currently petitioning The Judge to have The Queen transferred to the Kingdom's psychiatric facility for her 'treatment' because I know damn well she's got enough shit in her system that they could lock her up for 5 years and she'd still be flying high as a kite.  Not to mention the fact that the bitch is sly.  I have no doubt she'd concocting some new 'recreational' use for paint chips, nail clippings, and urinal cakes as we speak.  Detox is simply not in her vocabulary!

Unfortunately, since our psychiatric facility has been transformed into a gator pond in recent years (yes... even we have a 'crazy' threshold and when you've crossed we fear the only thing left for you is gator bait!) I'm having to get a bit creative.  The Judge is considering my proposal (apparently, The Queen is a bit of a 'strain' on the public facility she is currently housed in).  So I've decided to initiate Princess Vet into her true duties as a Royal Princess.

I realize that she has undergone many trials since first becoming a Royal, but as a 'Princess' she must be able to do more than push a bitch into the moat.  The Judge is insisting on a tour of our 'facility' before he agrees to the transfer.  I guess there's some rumor out there about us not taking the legal system seriously.  I personally think a gator pit proves our conviction to the justice system, but I'm not sure he'll agree.

SOOOO

Here are your Royal assignments in the absence of The Queen.

Princess Vet - First and foremost I need you to create a Psychiatric Facility in OZ.  You've got all those munchkins, a lion, tin man, scarecrow, and misguided wizard at your disposal.  Get on it.  It needs to be CLEAN.  And by that I mean you're gonna have to stash the good shit with the Dame.  Don't leave them with Dutch or we'll never see them again!  Secondly, you need to figure out how to make the gators, flamingos, and flying monkeys 'appear' to be lovable 'theraputic animals'.  Dress them up as bunnies, I don't care... and make sure those gators have a healthy digestive system, I don't need any parts from a cheap john floating to the surface while the judge is visiting!

Sisterwife - You need to sneak over to the main castle and stash The Queen's stash, if you get my drift.  Then keep an eye on my Aunt Dutch.  That bitch stumbles out in her bathrobe with a box of wine under her arm and this whole mission will be shot to hell!  If you can get that bitch to behave, I need you to be the go-between for Princess Vet, The Dame, and The Bartender.  You've always been a whiz at getting the right 'hookup' on the shit we need and these girls are going to need a lot of shit to pull this off.

Bartender - You are officially on lock down for the weekend.  Get the bitches sobered up or get the bitches to pass out.  I don't care which.  But it is vital that none of those half-witted twats stumbles out into the public while The Judge is here.  Flop up a 'Closed for Remodeling' sign and tell the whores we're under a Code 11 Terroristic Threat.

Dame - You and Sir need to find a place to stash the John's. NO! They cannot have a 'quick' conjugal visit right now. I don't want to lose paying customers, but for goodness sakes I cannot have those Chip-n-Dales running lose like an anaconda parade! We have enough exotic animals around here as it is. Once you get that under control, I need you to put on your best professional dress and deliver the necessary provisions to The Bartender.


Dutch - I need you to... never mind... I know better... just take your box of wine and go to your tub. It's the only time I can be sure you're not up to no good. If you need more incentive to 'behave' let me tell you that top grade hashish is virtually impossible to smuggle into a public facility. The Judge will take one look at you and put you in a padded cell right next to The Queen. And I'll be lucky if I can get you some cheap ditch weed masquerading as parsley. So just stay inside and try not to fall. I will NOT call the EMTs while he's here. You nick and artery and you'll be at the mercy of Princess Vet!
Meanwhile, since I'm one of the few who can stay sober and coherent for an entire weekend, I will be jumping through all the legalities and various hoops of the public judicial system in an attempt to get The Queen back.  I'll do my best to keep everyone up-to-date on the process, but lord only knows how much time I'll have for that.  I've sent the O.C. away on 'holiday' (we all know she is far too detrimental to my image as an upstanding mother) and the P.C. will be pulling in some cash to try and keep us afloat (not that we're strapped, but I'm not giving up a dime from my shoe fund!).

If negotiations with The Judge fail, I'll be forced to resort to Plan B.  I can't really discuss the details of it right now, but it involves crowbars, chloroform, dynamite, and some well trained flying monkeys.  As a Royal, I'm trying to keep the peace between Kingdoms, but as a future world dictator... I'm kinda hoping for Plan B!!!  MUAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!

Anyway, just because we're doing the whole "Royal Rally" thing to get The Queen back, don't for one minute think any of you are off the hook!  Despite the protests of Princess Vet, I intend to proceed with the "Peacock Extermination Project" and that does include her damn crown!  I also intend to reclaim possession of my monkeys, but that part will be easy.  As for The Royal Sisterwife, keep your hands off my crown.  I am the SOLE heir to that crown.  As my Momma always said, "I brought you into this world and I can take you out of it!"  There will definitely be some issues to take care of once we get The Queen back, but until then I'm willing to put them on the back burner.  Unless I find out who has my 6-inch diamond-platinum stilettos.  If that bitch surfaces I'm afraid its not even going to matter if The Judge is here, she's going in the gator pit (after I get my shoes off her of course).

Now get with the program ladies.  I have no intention of ruling over this mayhem you all call home.  Filling the Queen's shoes hampers my world domination tour and frankly... her shoes just aren't trashy enough for my taste.  Get her BACK!!

3 comments:

  1. I'll get right on that. But once she is free we'll have a talk about the crown.

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  2. FLYING MONKEYS, CHECKING IN FROM ROCKMELT

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  3. Keep your greedy hands off my flying monkeys whore!!

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