December 1, 2010 by David Gillaspie
THE QUEEN DROPS GLOVES
England retrofits old building for electricity by running stone colored conduit.
You see it, but it doesn’t register.
Buckingham Palace is no different. Modern day needs hide behind traditional views.
Queen Elizabeth had no problem fielding the phone call from Sarah Palin after her assistant explained who she was.
“She is the former Governor of Alaska,” Angela Kelly said.
“A former governor? Was she voted out of office? These things do happen in the colonies,” the Queen said.
“No, Your Majesty. She quit.”
“They can do that?”
“It was the circumstances, I believe, Your Majesty. She was chosen as a Vice Presidential candidate in 2008. After her ticket lost, she could not carry on her governing duties with greater problems mounting,” Angela said.
The two ladies shared a new fashion catalogue on the table before them.
“And what does she do now?”
“She writes books, ma’am, then travels to talk about them and sign them. She also supports other political candidates.”
Angela Kelly turned the page of the catalogue. The Queen pointed to the image before them.
“I’ll never understand why so many assume titles they have no business carrying. Lady Gaga would not be presentable at any of our functions.”
“No, Your Majesty, and I’ll make note that she is never invited.”
“Have you ever worn meat clothing?”
“It’s not in line with the style we prefer, ma’am,” Angela said. “Though it seems to be made from good cuts.”
“We’ll give her high marks for knowing her way around the butcher shop, then. What sort of advice does this Palin give to candidates. Wouldn’t they be better served following advice from a winning candidate?”
“One would think so, Your Majesty. I can’t really explain it. She talks about something called the Tea Party.”
“Tea Party? That has such a nice ring to it. Perhaps I will speak to her. What does she want?”
They turned the page of the fashion catalogue to see advertising images of new purses. The Queen took a closer look.
“Your Majesty, from what I understand, Ms Palin is calling to book a fight. She wants to engage in Mixed Martial Authors, the MMA of the reading set.”
“Oh, I love watching those bruisers in the cage. She is willing to subject herself to that sort of punishment?” the Queen said.
“I’m not sure ma’am. I think she wants to fight you. According to what I understand from reading deegeesbb, you must be an author to take part in Mixed Martial Author events.”
“I’ve had plenty written about me, but never actually written much for public consumption. Perhaps she needs to contact Sally Bedell Smith or Isabelle Rivère. They are battling now for my Diamond Jubilee biography.”
Angela turned the page to ads for fashion headwear. The Queen took notice.
“This one is a beauty. I’ve always looked good in blue.”
“You look wonderful in most everything, Your Majesty.”
“I don’t believe for a moment that I’d look good in an MMA cage.”
“It wouldn’t be fitting for the Queen of England to face a former governor from Alaska, though I believe you’d clean her clock, if I may say so.”
The Queen displayed a special smile.
“So good of you to say so.”
“And I mean it.”
“Should I speak to Ms Palin?”
“I have her on a secure line. No one will be privy to your conversation.”
Angela Kelly handed Queen Elizabeth a telephone handset and left the room. The Queen listened before speaking.
Sarah Palin’s voice carried over the phone as if she were in the next room.
“You better listen, Todd, and listen good, this can’t happen again. You got off once, but next time it’ll be different. I can’t walk around with a shield around you. I’m not Sue Richards, for crying out loud. This isn’t the Fantastic Four. I’m tired of hearing you say Flame On every time you get in trouble.”
The Queen of England cleared her throat.
“Ahem, Ms Palin? This is Queen Elizabeth. Am I to understand you want to fight? I don’t advise it.”
The sound of breaking glass came over the phone, then a door slamming.
“Queen? Is this you? I’ve heard so much about you. You’ve probably heard as much about me, huh?”
The Queen switched the phone to her other ear.
“Not as much, I’m afraid, and not much of it good. You resigned as Governor of Alaska after you resigned from the Alaska Oil and Gas Conservation Commission? Then lost a national election? My dear, I’ve ruled for nearly sixty years without resigning. I’ve had many fights over that time.”
Sarah Palin laughed into her phone. The Queen held her’s away from her ear.
“You got it wrong, Queen. I don’t want to fight you. I called to ask if you might have someone ready to rumble. Maybe the Duchess of York? We’d have a Sarah vs Sarah spectacular. You see, Queen, I need to build my fighting resume with a few foreign patsies, if you know what I mean. I’ve done my research, don’t ya know.”
Queen Elizabeth switched the phone back to her other ear.
“Young lady, I’m not aware of any such research, but please understand, you’ll find no such opponent in the United Kingdom. If need be, I will step into the Mixed Martial Author octagon and beat you like a hockey puck. Have you researched that?”
“I don’t doubt it, Queen, but you don’t have a book, so you aren’t qualified.”
“I’ll write one if need be. I have many tales to tell. For now, take your quest elsewhere. Good day, Ms Palin.”
“Just one dad-gummed minute…”
Queen Elizabeth held the phone shoulder high. Angela Kelly took it and placed it on it’s cradle, with a voice still talking.
“I believe I’ve settled that affair to the T,” the Queen said.
“Jolly good, Your Majesty. And tea sounds like the order of the moment.”
“Tell me honestly, do you think I could take this Sarah Palin in the octagon?”
“Without a doubt, ma’am. Without a doubt.”
(to be continued)