The Queen Who Laid a Rotten Egg


Once upon a now there was an interfering old queen. Her government held power over the people and treated them badly but whilst the queen felt unable to do anything about their brutality she made very sure to meddle as much as possible if her or her son’s business interests were threatened.

Once a year, even though she was lazy through being spoon fed all the luxuries in the kindgom, she did make an effort to go to Parliament. This was the building where her government did terrible things (except bad things to her obviously). As a vain person she enjoyed riding through the streets to Parliament because even though it was only once a year she liked to remind the people that she was still alive and had lots of wealth. She wore a special crown just for the occasion.

In this kingdom legislation wasn’t written. It was hatched, a bit like a plot but in an egg. The queen would walk into a big meeting room where her lords and jesters lived and there she would sit on a lavish throne. The throne had a hole in it that corresponded to one in the back of her dress. For an hour she would grimace, spit and gurgle until finally with a loud “my government intends to” an egg would plop from her bottom, slip through the dress, into the throne and be transported to the Downing place.

The Downing place was where the egg would be incubated. For a whole year the queen’s chosen lords and jesters, led by the Prime Imbecile would incubate the egg by sitting on it in their special cabinet. Soft feathers called downing would protrude from their bottoms to help the egg stay warm. But on this particular day the queen had awoken with a bad tummy. Her shares were down again and this made her egg curdle. On top of the usual grimace, spit and gurgle she felt compelled to gurn. It took a lot of effort but the egg came out… and it stank.

It was bad legislation. It was legislation that would imprison the people further, taking away precious rights and helping to allow her guards to meddle even further into the lives of her subjects.

Even though it was bad, rotten and stank, the queen felt pleased. She had been seen by tourists on her ride to Parliament and this was often the only justification anyone could muster for still having her. She went home happy. Meanwhile the government were happy as they could take it in turns to sit on the egg.

The Prime Imbecile giggled with delight as his downing warmed the rotten legislation. The Home Jester and the Jester for Justice argued furiously over who should sit on it the most and whose legislation was the worst, despite the fact that they both complemented each other in nastiness perfectly.

But the people knew they would suffer. They planned and plotted to ensure that the egg never hatched. If all else failed they would at least show the kingdom to be what it truly was and is: corruption, oppression, usurpation and slavery. The queen feared such things for she knew that her existence was unusual in such a modern world. She knew that one day people might live happily ever after… without her.

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