'And the other night, his little gorgeous regalness went for a bath and there were 15 of them down the shallow end alone!'
'Oh dear!' replied Horace.
'Indeed,' said Queen Phoebe, 'and One can't open a fridge without finding a dozen of them on each shelf.'
'It can't be easy,' sympathised Horace.
'Well it isn't,' continued Queen Phoebe.
'But I have to say,' said Horace, 'I'm not quite sure why all of that should be a barrier to my suggestion.'
'As I've explained,' said Queen Phoebe, 'there is a limit to what even his crownliness can do and bunging in extra categories willy nilly is a step too far.'
'Well then could you just let me read a few out?' They'd all be about Penguins and my assistant, Gilbert, with whom I have never worked before, would be onstage with me so there'd be a real penguin aspect to the whole thing.'
'Hmm,' said Queen Phoebe, 'I'll think about it...by the way, how much are you paying him?'
'Who?' asked Horace.
'Gilbert,' replied Queen Phoebe.
'I didn't know I was,' said Horace, 'he just sort of turned up and started helping to carry my papers.'
'Ah!' replied Queen Phoebe, 'that's how they always get you...clever things penguins.'
And with that Queen Phoebe walked off...leaving Horace somewhat bothered.
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