“What do you get the girl who has everything?’ pondered Baron von Washboard, flexing in the mirror.
“Am I putting on weight?” he added, pinching his midriff.
“What girl?” replied Peep, holding up a robe for inspection. “And no, you aren’t getting fat. Just vain.”
The Baron wrinkled his nose and pulled a face. “The girl? Why Princess Rousseau, the only girl for me in the kingdom of Bleakadonia.”
“But what about Lady Stacy?” interjected his manservant.
“She was just a side quest,” snapped von Washboard. “Different kingdom. Oh, and I can’t possibly wear that robe. It masks my obliques.”
His manservant sighed and began folding the garment. “As you will Baron,” he replied, deftly holding a corner of the robe between chin and chest. “So does Princess Rousseau really have everything?”
“Everything? Gosh no, she’s hardly got anything!” exclaimed the Baron. “That was just a turn of phrase. She might live a life of luxury in her absent father’s castle, but she hasn’t got two shekels to rub together. Poor thing hasn’t even got a bedpan!”
“So how does she poo?” asked Peep.
“Out the window.”
Now it was Peep’s turn to pull a face. “So why don’t you get her a chamberpot for Christmas?”
Von Washboard chuckled. “A practical gift? For Christmas? Peasant please!”
“What about one of those diamond encrusted ones…”
“I am not buying Princess Rousseau a diamond chamberpot for her to shit in!” insisted the Baron. “I knew I should have hired Milo as my manservant. He could have picked a suitable gift for a princess.”
“What about a pedicure?” asked Peep, trying his utmost to regain the Baron’s favour. “You know, a toenail polish.”
The Baron shook his head wistfully. “You can’t polish a turd.”
He leaned against the bookshelf and absent-mindedly rubbed a finger against a dusty tome. “Actually, I think I might know what to get the princess who has nothing yet demands everything…”
...I’ll give her a story!”
“A story?”
“A story.”
“What sort of story?”
“A nice story. A meta story, but a nice one. One in which Rousseau’s handsome suitor extols her beauty and basedness of heart.”
“Do you really mean that?”
“Course I mean it.”
“You’re not just saying that because it’s Christmas and you want to give Rousseau warm feels so she’ll blow you?
“What sort of a man would do such a thing!” exclaimed von Washboard, resting a curved forefinger against his chin. “Not I.”
“Peep, grab a quill and dip it quick. I can sense a Christmas cracker coming on…”
The manservant did as he was told and began scratching on a sheet of parchment.
“Yo hol up,” chided the Baron. “I haven’t told you what to write yet.”
He glanced down disapprovingly at the parchment.
“Once upon a time there lived a princess named Rousseau…”
“That was my line! How did you know I was going to start with that?” exclaimed the Baron.
“Just a lucky guess,” smirked Peep.
The manservant regained his composure. “Er...do go on.”
“Once upon a time there lived a princess named Rousseau…” he began. “She was the fairest maiden in the entire kingdom. Her laugh was contagious, her smile irresistible and her breasts could light up a room…”
“You’re totally getting blown,” remarked Peep.
Von Washboard closed his eyes. “Totally.”
