Wiping the cream from her face, Imladris stares haughtily about her. "It's not my fault the Queen Golden Crowns were gone," she mutters peevishly. "In fact --" she stopps with a smirking grin -- "I don't believe any of the King Crowns were taken."
She stuck a finger anointed with a large dollop of cream in her mouth.
"I shall be your King -- Queen," said Imladris, bowing. "I hearby order that the Dorks shall spread their dorkish mischief; that the Brits spread their cheek throughout the Downs; that the few people who were graced with the honour of king or queen --" she narrows her eyes -- "shall make sure they are properly tip toed around; that the Angst ridden ones spread their misery with ghoulish glee; and, finally, that the Good Christian ones shall..." she stops, fumbling for the correct words, "shall put in a good word for us all," she finishes lamely.
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I'm sorry it wasn't a unicorn. It would have been nice to have unicorns.
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