The impersonator could never figure out if being irrationally happy was a good thing or not. To be sure, things seemed to be working out, but was it ever possible to know if this situation would continue? Besides, he knew his happiness was irrational. How did he know this? Because if it was real than the other people who should have been happy would have been. But they weren't. Obviously something wasn't right with his happiness. The impersonator didn't know how to remedy the situation.
The king and queen, meanwhile, were having a frank and open discussion about the king's diet. The king said, "I think sausages would be a good addition to my daily fare." The queen quickly nixed this idea, calling it immature and irresponsible. She declared that she'd sooner see the king move out of the castle then have him do such abominable acts against creation. "But the sausage is so noble!" cried the king, "and anyway, you can't kick me out of my own palace!" The queen said, "Watch me, white boy."
At this moment a cry was heard to emanate from the king's own most inner chambers. All the courtiers were surprised, for they knew the king to be a decorous individual, not given to such open expressions. The queen had always been skeptical of the knowledge of the courtiers, seeing as the king she knew was in fact quite passionate about many subjects, including in no particular order his subjects, his food, and his riding crop. The queen was nevertheless as surprised as the
courtiers, because she had the king right next to her, and so obviously the source of the cries must emanate from a different person. The king was completely oblivious to any noise, sunk deep as he was in a most miserable reverie regarding his lack of sausages. The palace guards were immediately dispatched to see who it was that had so publicly disturbed the peace of the king's own most inner chambers. They had a shrewd suspicion that it was the impersonator,
finally come back to wreak havoc upon the world and its works, but they wanted to make sure.
The impersonator, contrary to the shrewdest thoughts of the palace guards, was not in the king's own most inner chambers. He was in a pub trying to win the affections of a lonely lass and more importantly the contents of her plate of sausage. It was the very last plate of sausage in the land, the king having decreed that if he couldn't have sausage than neither could anyone else, and the impersonator was ravening after it. The lonely lass suspected that her wooer was only
after her sausage, and she parried his attempts at wooship accordingly. This frustrated the impersonator, and he came up with a dastardly plan. If he couldn't have the sausage, well then she wouldn't be able to either.
"Guards!" he shouted out, as only the impersonator was able to about, "look! Sausages! Take her away to the palace dungeons!" The palace guards, having retired from the king's own most inner chambers frustrated in their attempts to find out who had disturbed their peace, inmediately rushed into the pub and seized the sausages that the lonely lass had valiantly tried to stuff down her socks and thence her boots.
"No my pretty," said the head of the guards, "it's the incinerator for those sausages, and the palace dungeons for you!" The lonely lass shot the impersonator a look of pure and unadalterated hatred, and vowed her revenge. The impersonator looked unconcerned and ate some beer nuts. The king, realizing that some sausages were coming to the palace, resolved to get them for himself, while the queen resolved to make sure they never reached his grubby little hands.
And the cry from the king's most inner chambers?