“Oh, Harold. Spare me the pomp and take a seat, would you?”

Mayor Northrup did a quick scan of the throne room. Apart from the King’s royal throne, it was significantly devoid of seating options. He turned back to Queenie. She slowly, deliberately raised an eyebrow. The Mayor, his judgment clouded by nerves, lifted the tails of his suit jacket and sat on the floor. He took a moment to admire Queenie’s jewel-encrusted loafers.

“Oh, for goodness sakes Harold, just use the throne!” she bellowed at him. The Mayor obediently scrambled to his feet but froze, with his rear-end hovering slightly above the seat. He looked to Queenie.

“Are you sure the King won’t mind, your majesty?”

Tired of his reticence, Queenie grabbed Mayor Northrup firmly by the elbow and sat him down on Royal’s throne. He bowed appreciatively from his seated position.

“My word. Is this always how you conduct yourself during meetings? People will think the worst of you, Harold. They’ll think you a coward.”

He stared at her, terrified.

“I’ll tell you something, Harold. Everybody hates a coward. Just ask Charlie over there.”

Queenie gestured towards her faithful butler Charlie, who dutifully held court at her elbow.

“It’s true, mum. I haven’t many friends…” Charlie conceded as Queenie threw her hands in the air.

“That’s not what I meant, Charlie! I was merely asking your opinion. Goodness. I love you like a son, my dear, but we all know you’re a defeatist, not a coward. Now, Harold. You’ve come to seek my council?”

Mayor Northrup turned to her, his eyes wide. He spoke slowly and cautiously, trying, for all he was worth, not to sound like a coward.

“Your majesty. I’m sure you are aware that we, the town of Kingston, have been shipping our garbage to the dump in Shinkerton…”

Queenie nodded.

”I am aware…”

“Thank you, your majesty. And, you may also be aware that our contract with the town of Shinkerton regarding this matter is up for renewal next month…”

Queenie glared at him.

“Get on with it, Harold…”

Mayor Northrup took a moment to muster up his courage, then quickly blurted it out.

“Negotiations have broken down and Mayor Fitzsimmons refuses to return to the bargaining table. As of next month our garbage will no longer be welcome in Shinkerton, and we will have nowhere to put it. I’m SO SORRY! IT’S NOT MY FAULT!” He leaned slightly away from Queenie, bracing himself for her reaction.

She looked to the ceiling and thought for a moment, then turned to Mayor Northrup and placed a reassuring hand on his arm.

“I’ll tell you something, Harold. I’m not a fan of politics, I never have been.”

Her voice echoed throughout the Throne Room. Mayor Northrup stared silently at her.

“But I have a soft spot for you, Harold. I really do. Your heart’s in the right place and I truly believe that you want what’s best for this town. But you can’t expect your constituents to continue supporting you as their leader if you allow yourself to be stepped on. This is just the opportunity you need to show the people of this town that you’re not to be trifled with.”

Queenie stared expectantly at Mayor Northrup. His mouth hung open slightly. He appeared to be confused.

“Stand up for yourself, man! Go tell that Mayor Fitz-something-or-other what’s what and don’t allow yourself be rebuffed. People will think you’re weak! Nobody likes a weakling! Just ask Charlie!”

Charlie hung his head.

“It’s true, mum. I’ve a very passive nature…”

“Oh, chin up Charlie. I was speaking in the abstract. Now Harold, I want you to march right down to Shinkerton city hall, and demand that they accept our garbage! Drag Mayor Fitz-a-gibbiths back to the bargaining table if you must. How dare he turn his back on us! And another thing, I want you to tell them that our garbage is the best thing about their shoddy excuse for a town! Can you do that for me Harold?”

Mayor Northrup, energized and terrified by Queenie’s speech, jumped to his feet and bowed appreciatively.

“Right away, your highness! Thank you, your highness!” he shouted as he ran for the door.

Queenie leaned back in her throne, and sighed contentedly. She turned to Charlie.

“Well. If that doesn’t work, we’ll bar Mayor Fitz-a-ruthers from the Kingston Casino until he breaks. Now, Charlie. Be a love and give my husband’s throne a good dusting, would you? If he suspects that someone’s been sitting on it, he’ll only assume the worst. He’s terrified of usurpers, you know.”

Charlie nodded.

“Yes, mum.”

“Excellent. And let me know when you’re through with the dusting, will you? We shall retire to the sitting room and watch the chat shows. Would you like that, Charlie?”

Charlie nodded, blushing graciously.

“Yes, mum. Thank you, mum.”