Royalty, Like Some Rodents, Have Teeth That Never Stop Growing
ADAM MICHAEL LUEBKE
Los Angeles
The only news these days that I’m interested in concerns the happenings of Queen Elizabeth II, and her wayfarer spouse, Prince Philip.
Other news alarms me, like predator drone strikes in Pakistan that level apartment complexes that kill dozens of men, women, and children in order to wipe out one bad guy. Pakistan doesn’t like that, but the US says the strikes are goddamned effective. Unless somehow a drone gets loaded with food instead of bombs. But that doesn’t happen often.
I also shudder at the bill passed that makes protesting near an elected official a felony. But these news stories are depressing, so I stick instead to what’s real, like Keeping Up with the Queen. Someday I may earn a Pulitzer for my work on Elizabeth II, but let’s not allow hazy future approbation to cloud our serious task at present.
Queen Elizabeth II welcomed members of the International Olympic Committee (IOC) to Buckingham Palace for a reception. At the event, the Queen was awarded honorary gold, silver, and bronze Olympic medals. She didn’t have to leap through any hoops or power skate around any giant paved circles or swim laps in her underwear. Although, she could have, due to her high-vitality, high performance diet. Officials figured she did plenty in her past lives in order to be delegated by God as Queen in this lifetime. And that, they say, is worth a Gold.
Clad in her flowery, lightly-used nightgown, the Queen daintily welcomed committee members. She held out her delicate hand, and extended everyone of importance a welcoming, “How do, you do?” Everybody was doing just fine. At times she staggered, as if suffering from too much to drink, but that hasn’t been confirmed. (Please watch the video below to see the Queen on this very important day, and notice the healthy ruddiness of her cheeks)
IOC President Jacques Rogge did his best to make the reception mostly about Britain’s accomplishments, rather than the actual Olympics, so he told the queen:
Thank you so much, Your Majesty, for your very kind words and thank you also for the great hospitality we are experiencing here in Buckingham Palace and also in Great Britain. The world of sport is very much indebted to Great Britain who, as a first nation, invented modern sport in the latter half of the 19th century.
Rogge made a very smart move with those words. After the first sentence of gratitude, he could have ended it, but Rogge, very smartly, fed into the belief that all good and worthwhile cultural and societal practices started in Britain. The Queen was very pleased, and any TV viewer could almost see her swell up with bloated pride behind that old nightgown she wore.
And why shouldn’t she? Who cares where modern sport was invented? I’m pretty sure the Arabs had something to do with it, but fuck them. England’s got the banks. America’s got the guns. And Israel’s officials have more than a few earnest hands on the controls. So Britain invented modern sports. We’ll have to give it to them.
Shockingly, nobody reported the strange brown stick held rigidly in the Queen’s gloved hand after she gave her speech, and after she kindly listened to her spouse, Prince Philip the Blusterer, speak with a tiny crackle in his voice that suggested he could use a tall drink of water.
What was that thin brown stick? Ugly candy from a foreign land? The video posted below does not show it, because the cameras were cut by that time, but trustworthy sources have indicated it to be what is known in the pet industry as a “bully stick”. This particular model the Queen gripped was around ten inches in length, and the width of three pencils.
While some readers will not know what a “bully stick” is, those of us who do are not startled by the thought of one being clutched in the Queen’s claws. It’s been widely reported that her teeth (long descended from Vlad the Impaler’s) are of the variety that never stop growing.
A “bully stick” might be better known as the pizzle, or penis of a bull. Historically, bull pizzles have been used as walking canes, and are also used today as dog treats, but only once in history have I been able to locate a treated one being regularly gnawed on by a member of English royalty in order to soothe and keep worn her set of very sharp, and constantly growing teeth.
If at first this information of forever growing teeth in the mouth of a queen seems crude, please reconsider it. The trait is not wholly uncommon among animals, even if it is somewhat rare among humans, and it is especially not unheard of with dignitaries and royalists (but humans chewing “bully sticks” to counteract those effects, however, is unusual and unimaginable). Like hamsters, beavers, and rats, the teeth continue to grow throughout the creatures’ lifetimes.
If a beaver or the Queen would not chew on a rigid bull pizzle or rough hunk of wood, their teeth would soon expand upward, and into their brains. Unfortunately for the Queen, she was less diligent in the 60s and 70s about her condition, and didn’t keep her teeth filed every day, which is recommended for any rodent or royalist. It’s unthinkable that nobody noticed or stepped in to remind her of these dangers.
Sadly, as happens in situations like these, the Queen’s teeth protruded into her brain and short-circuited her body’s electrical system. For an hour she flailed on the floor like a shiny fish plucked from its magical sea. As you might imagine, the Queen has access to the finest doctors in the West, and they were able to minimize the damage by simply yanking, with a simple pair of a handyman’s pliers, the bottoms of her teeth. Inches of bone had to be sawed off and ground to dust, which is not a simple task when working in a hole as small, wet, and dark as the mouth.
The dust of the sawed and ground teeth was cherished by the people and granted to the highest esteemed English soil manufacturers, who then developed a new product. They introduced twelve ten pound bags of their best soil blend, each mixed with one cup of the Queen’s teeth dust, which they dubbed “Royal Bone-Meal”. The bags were donated to charity, and were used to help fertilize ten date trees in a secret park.
As for the Queen, who had to make a go of this horrendous situation of evergrowing teeth cracking upward through her skull, and then being shimmied back down again, only to be sensitively-sawed off and pulverized into a fine white powder, she was pleased to know she’d helped spur on ten trees that would continue bearing fruit for the unforeseeable future, or until proper civilization itself collapsed and the trees were cut down by throngs of angry pitchfork-wielding bumpkins who were upset about losing their jobs, homes, money for education, and public services.
The Queen is never terrified of insurrection. Not in these modern times. It’s too easy to hire a bunch of desperate Joes, heavily arm them, and line them around Windsor and Buckingham Palaces. The Joe-Blow soldiers will crack the heads of any revolutionaries and squash any citizen movements. A paycheck is a paycheck. No questions asked.
The Queen, all the while, will allude to the Prophet, Muhammad, and his efforts to plant date trees (many of which still exist today around Mecca, and are harvested). People have said it is a great blessing to eat a date from the tree which the Prophet once planted, and yet it is a similar boon to any individual who happens to chew on the fruit from one of the Queen’s specially fertilized trees.
Connections to God are, for now and ever, connections to God.
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