"Fleeting cabinet member no. #27, why aren't all of my subjects orange," he asked Royal Loyal Acolyte #27.
"Because, your royal Orangeness, that would require either doling out lots of orange skin lotion or giving every subject free entry to tanning booths. Either--"
The King waved his very orange hands. "Stop right there. Would it cost a lotta money?"
"Um, I'm afraid it would, your Orangeness." Acolyte #27 shuffled his pointy lil' elven shoes.
"Never mind then." The King pouted and puffed out a huge Dorito-like lip. "I've noticed more and more brown subjects coming into our kingdom. What can we do to stop them?"
"I'm afraid that goes against our ruling with other pigmented kingdoms, sir, it would void--"
"You're fired! And you're to blame if the High Council of Grand Wizards should try to swing the blame my way." A thick finger jabbed out. "Next!"
Acolyte #28 stepped in front of the Orange throne. Sweat dropped from his immaculately coifed poof of an orange hair-do. "How may I serve you, your awesome Orangeness?"
"These brownies. They're bad hombres. Muy bad. Really bad marron. What can we do to stop them from entering my kingdom and tainting it with their off-color?"
"Well...we can file a complaint with the Grand Wizard who will--"
"That's enough. I don't like rules." The King's hand went up, the palm whiter than the orange other side. "Let's fire the cannons on the brownies."
Clearly uncomfortable, Acolyte #28 clenched his knees together and stared onto the floor. Through gritted teeth, he said, "I'm sorry, King Orange, but that violates the Grand Wizard's treaty of--"
The King mocked his subject, tossing up wiggling hands. "Bla, blad, duh, duh, doh, whatever. Just make it work. What if we just shoot cannonballs at their legs?"
Stammering like a stuck record, Acolyte #28 prayed silently to his gods before speaking. "We just can't do that, your Orangeness, it defeats the purpose of our--"
"You're fired! Next!"
As they dragged Acoylte #28 off to be beheaded, the next loyal and very, very orange acolyte took his place. "How may I be of service, your Orangeness?"
Lip jutted out, deep in kingly concentration, the King finally responded. "Let's build a huuuuuge moat around my kingdom and fill it full of giant fire-breathing dragons and Medusas and poisonous unicorns and brownie gobbling goblins and retarded people. It's gonna be great. It's gonna be fan...tastic."
Acolyte #29 knew it to be a foolish suicidal mission if he told his Orange king that not only was this a highly illegal and ludicrous idea, but the words he called them were highly offensive . To save his head, the smart orange acolyte said, "Yes, your awesome Orangeness. I'll see to it. Is there anything else I can do?"
The King sat upon his porcelain throne and pondered. Finally, he said, "Yes, I want chocolate milk in all water fountains. In every province, area, and kingdom. Except for the Brownies', of course."
The End.
You're welcome.
