The Queen: Fictional Friday... but on Sunday

The Queen, Great Britain’s pride and joy, awoke in a queen size bed, with a queen size comforter, and queen size sheets, to a Queen playing on the HMR iPod (Her Majesty’s Royal iPod).
She sat up, admiring the diamonds, pearls, rubies, and gold that surrounded her as she awoke. She also particularly admired her own Beatles PJs that she found in the States. Very Queen-like she thought to herself.
A familiar knock caught her attention.
“Enter,” the Queen granted.
“Greetings your majesty, (or YM for short) I am here to take your breakfast order this morning,” explained the butler, noticeably anxious.
“Wait, wait… what is your name servant?” The Queen said in an excited manner.
The butler, noticeably irritated after having his expected fears confirmed prepared to answer. He had been through this with the Queen before and was finding his hope that it would end to be rather foolish.
“Butlington… Butlington the Butler… happy?”
“Very!” She replied excitedly… Cheerios would be just wonderful by the way!... Cheerio!”
Butlington rolled his eyes and let out a sigh. “Very well. I’ll have them ready for you.”
“Say what I want to hear…”
(Sigh again) “Cheerio.” Butlington trailed off as he exited the room to prepare the most British cereal the queen could think of…
The Queen hopped out of bed, excited for this particular day. For this was no ordinary day. Today, Queen (the band, not herself… although she would also be there) would be playing a concert live in Hyde Park. “We WILL rock you.” She menacingly told her globe on the desk. “WE are the champions.”
The Queen entered her royal bathroom, took her royal shower with her royal water. Oddly enough, she used Suave to wash and condition her hair. She believed the price of hair product had unfairly skyrocketed and this was her own personal form of protest against this injustice. She felt she had to serve her people… She was the Queen after all…
Upon exiting her shower, she grabbed her George Washington towel and began drying herself.
“In your face.” She scoffed as Washington’s face met her butt while drying.
This was usually the point where she would make some line bashing the United States. Not because she hated the US, but she felt it was a good way to be patriotic… The US had rubbed it right in the British face back in 1776.
“Hmmm… No taxation without representation George? Well how about some personal face time with the Queen?” Oh yeah, that was a good one she thought to herself.
The Queen threw on her favorite gown and crown (The rhyming clothing combination. Bravo.) and flew down the stairs to meet Butlington and her breakfast.”
“Here are your cheerios YM”
“Honey nut?”
“Of Course.” Butlington replied, clearly annoyed.
“Prize!?”
“Not today YM… we haven’t finished this box yet.”
“Blast!” She replied as she ate the delicious Cheerios.
The Queen didn’t like Cheerios simply because of the opportunity to play on words. She also wanted that cute toy bee that was in the commercials and likewise in the box. The Queen in a way, saw herself as the “Queen Bee” of the hive that is Great Britain. Therefore, she really really wanted those darn honey nut Cheerio bees.
“Cheerio…” She chuckled to herself as she ate, impressed by her own cleverness. “You know what day today is Butlington?”
“I can only imagine…”
That’s right!” She said, not really listening to Butlington, but simply using him as a means to explain her plans. “Today, Queen will be playing in Hyde Park (again, not her, but the band). They are named after me. I mean… I have yet to wikipedia it, but who else could that name refer to? (according to wikipedia: no one in particular, it just sounded regal) And that means we need you in your Sunday best!”
“I’m already wearing a tuxedo… how much more dressed up can I get?”
“Fine! I’ll pick something out for you.”
(Moments later)
Butlington exited the palace, dressed in a full black tuxedo, vest, watch, loafers, bow tie, and a hat chosen by the Queen from her personal collection. It featured a large Union Jack (the British Flag) stretched across the front of the hat (a hate often bought by tourists enjoying their stay in Britain)
“Must I wear this?” Butlington grumbled.
“Oh I think it looks smashing on you Butlington.”
The Queen ‘s dress was equally as exquisite as Butlington’s (minus the hat). He wear featured a sparkling silver gown, a jeweled crown, a beautiful pair of heels, and one gold ring featuring a finely cut diamond with the etchings of the many royals who had once held the coveted ring.
“This ring has been passed down for generations. Every Queen must keep it with her at all times for not only her protection, but the protection of our fine nation.” She explained in a well rehearsed but serious manner.
“You make that speech every morning we exit the palace… what in bloody hell does that mean!... I mean… umm… what is the meaning?” Butlington corrected himself, remembering that he was just the Butler… Butlington the butler. He let out an internal sigh.
“Oh the meaning is not important now… but I will continue to say it every morning until it is relevant… (it almost undoubtedly would at some point… probably today) “That way, on that day, you’ll be able to think back and be like… ooo, it all makes sense now.”
“Great… I look forward to it.” Butlington let out another sign, unable to keep this on inside.
They entered the royal carriage and began the journey to Hyde. The ride was smooth and quiet for the first 30 seconds or so. It was at this time that the Queen liked to say a short prayer for herself, Butlington, and the country. She could hear the crowds cheering over the clip-clop of the horses pulling the carriage.
“What music will grace me on this trip?” The Queen asked Butlington.
“Umm… Queen YM?”
“No! I don’t want to burn myself out before the concert.” She replied.
“Alanis Morissette?”
“Butlington… we just celebrated Alanis Morissette Friday. I’m not quite ready for another dose yet.”
“The Who?” Butlington asked, clearly growing more impatient.
“Bingo! ‘Won’t Get Fooled Again’ please.”
(Cue “Won’t Get Fooled Again”)
It was almost as if there was no longer any other sound within the carriage. Only synthesizer, guitar, bass, and drums filled the small area within. The Queen was no ready to perform the fan service that she was so used to.
“Let us please our people. Yes Butlington?”
“Yes Your Majesty.”
Out of the top of the carriage rose the Queen and Butlington and likewise, the crowd’s roar elevated to a deafening decibel. Everyone turned out to see her. The Queen’s Guard, in full attire (including the furry hat) could not help but crack tiny grins as their patriotic ruler passed by. Wands waved wildly (now that’s what I call alliteration) as a group of Harry Potter cosplayers celebrated. The cheering continued as she passed the many segments of fans: soccer players, James Bond look-a-likes, pub-goers, tories, fish and chips eater, tea drinkers, and U2 made up just a portion of the many Brits celebrating the Queen’s presence.
“Isn’t this fun Butlington?”
Butlington the butler was not having as much fun as the Queen. All of these people were not here to see him. That actually didn’t bother him. He was used to going unnoticed. He was the Queen of Great Britain’s butler after all. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was that he was being noticed… he was being noticed for a particular hat that the Queen had chosen for him to wear.
“Who’s the American?” Heard Butlington numerous times as the carriage moved down the road.
“May I take this hat off?” Butlington, restricting his frustration, asked.
“It looks nice. Keep it on.” The Queen cheerfully, but sternly snapped back at him.
Butlington sighed another big sigh and resumed standing still while the Queen waved.
Nearing the entrance to Hyde Park, a disturbance of some kind was blocking the road ahead (not unlike a disturbance in the force, but for the road in GB). A large group of people was chanting, holding signs of chickens and cows in cages and pens. It seemed that this group of people was hassling some of the good citizens of the country.
“STOP!” The Queen shouted. Everyone and everything stopped.
Butlington helped her down from the carriage.
“What is the problem?” The Queen asked, noticeable annoyed by the disruption taking place in front of her.
“We are protesting the use of antibiotics in Livestock.” Commented one of the protesters.
“Yeah! And the confining of chickens to cages for the purpose of egg laying and slaughtering.” Another remarked.
“It is sickening how these animals are mistreated! Did you know that the natural activities of the livestock are restricted when they’re in cages?!”
“Yeah… that would be the point of the cage right?” Butlington remarked.
“Shut up American!” Yelled a protester.
“Damnit…” Butlington the butler whispered under his breath.
The Queen made her attempt to understand the situation.
“So… you gents are vegetarians? You don’t like when people eat meat?” The Queen glibly remarked.
“No. We are against the unethical treatment of animals.” A protester replied.
“So… you’re a vegan… is that it? You won’t eat any animal products? I know your kind… and that’s fine.” The Queen stated.
“No… We eat meat and are fine using animal products. We just ask that the animals be treated kindly before we…”
“Yeah. You’re okay with them being slaughtered to be eaten… or forced to lay eggs. But you want them to have a nice time while they await their death?” The Queen asked condescendingly.
“Can I take off this hat now?” Butlington asked at a very inopportune time.
“No! Keep it on. It’s cute!” The Queen snapped back at him.
“Well Queen… You may not agree, but you’re position is merely ceremonial. So what are you going to do about it!? The protest leader snapped in the Queen’s face. He then went over to a child eating his delicious UK hamburger and smashed it in the boy’s face.
The Queen was clearly angered by this display. “You may disrespect me. I can take such abuse. However, you will not abuse the good children of Great Britain.” The Queen’s ring began to glow a golden yellow. “The position of the Queen may only be ceremonial in the government, but that doesn’t mean that I’m completely powerless.” The Queen let out a small chuckle.
Instantly, she appeared behind the protesters. Then at their side, then on the other. Soon, she again stoop in front of them. The protesters threw rocks and food items of various types in her direction (coincidentally, some threw eggs… so much for treating animals with respect… some chicken went to a lot of work laying that egg. Somewhere, a chicken felt that it had been treated unethically after that protester threw the egg. Tsk tsk tsk.) The Queen, acting quickly and her ring still glowing, created a shield of blue light, instantly deflecting the oncoming projectiles.
“Ooo… the ring… it all makes sense now.” Butlington stammered as the Queen worked her literal magic.
With a final flick of the wrist, the Queen let out a ball of light that immediately knocked out every protester in sight. The battle was over with the Queen standing high. The gradually dimmed until it was no longer glowing.
“Arrest these men and women. Put them in the nick. We’ll decide their fate later. Hmf… Why can’t people learn to fight for causes that matter? I mean, these men and women could have fought against cancer, aids, slavery… but they chose getting chickens out of cages.”
The Queen reflected on what had just happened. “Everyone! Return to your celebration. The danger to you, your queen, and your country is over!”
The crowd let out a mighty cheer. Butlington approached the Queen, impressed and shocked at her hidden powers.
“I get it now. And my hat… you had me wear it because it is part of your power.” Butlington expressed happily.
“No. I just like the hat… so keep it on. Plus, I like to hear you sigh.”
Butlington caught himself before he let out another sigh.
“Let’s get to the concert.”
The Queen, Butlington, and the many Londoners who populated the area that day enjoyed a great concert and the night closed on a high note. All was right in Great Britain. All in a day’s work for the Queen. It may not be easy, but someone needs to do it.
“Cheerio..” she laughed to herself.