The King sashayed to his dinner thrown. He raised his glass, signaled, and toasted. The conversations commenced.

Every noble was in attendance. They wore coats with lavish fabrics of red and blue, lined with gold that glittered under the light of the many chandeliers. Their hats were large and over shaped. Often worn to complement the coat.

Salads and roast were served by the best kitchen hands in the kingdom. They were all suited in black and wore gloves of white silk. The waiters came hustling through the doors to the kitchen, but slowed their step as they entered the dining room.

The esteemed guests roared in laughter between fork fulls of pork, corn, and pudding.

The men politely engaged the King in each of their conversations, eager to gain his opinion on the matter. The King would ponder on his thoughts a while while brushing his long brown beard through his pointer finger and thumb. He spoke in a low pitched voice. The type of tone that demands respect. The noblemen would wait in great anticipation; then immediately agree with the Kings statement.

As the conversations broke off into small groups of men sitting side by side, the King would glance down at his people. He thought never had he thrown such an extravagant party yet. This pleased him a great deal.

He then would always decide to toast again. And with one clink of his spoon to the glass, there was silence. Every eye stared directly in his. The King would smile, say a few words about his accomplishments, the noblemen would clap, and resume their meal.

By this point in time, the servers had begun placing jello and strawberries out for the men to enjoy. They would gawk at the desserts that had mysteriously appeared before them.

Normally, the men would be too busy stuffing their faces with green jello to talk with one another; but this night was different, for a nobleman by the name of Alexander had been invited that night. Unlike the notorious Atilla the Hun, Alexander had kept his mouth shut that night. Except for of course when eating the politely balanced fork of pork.

But the topic of commerce had risen. Alexander himself was a business man. He owned many farms and many farm stands in markets across the empire. He believed strongly in the economic system in place. This was for the only reason a man would love the economy — it made him rich.

Alexander took a composed face and entered the discussion.

Quickly, things began to heat up. Belmont, to the left of Alexander, drew a face redder than a tomato’s. And soon, every nobleman at the rear end of the table had a face as Belmont’s.

Voices rose, the waiters remained in the kitchen, daring to glance through the door, and soon, Alexander stood.

His chair flung back; his gold tooth flashed; Belmont rose; so did every man participating. The argument spread like rapid fire. The men took sides and clung to them like life. It was shortly after this that the attention of the King was caught.

He clinked his glass. Then he clanked his glass. Then — he dropped his glass. This was the action that caught the attention of each and every nobleman present. Slowly, Alexander lowered his firsts and look down at the floor. He face turned every shade of red.

“I dare say!” Declared the King, “What is this ruckus?” He was taken aback by the behavior demonstrated at his dinner of the year. “Why have you man begun acting as tho you are wild beasts?”

There was a long pause as the King thought this would give his words a greater effect. Then, he said, “have you no shame? Sit! Eat like the civil beings you are!”

With that, the King sat. Each nobleman followed from the north to the south end of the table. This was until every man had sat. Every man except for Alexander.

Belmont glared at Alexander, a vexing stare down as if to say he had told him so.

“Is there a problem down there?” Boomed the King.

He received no answer.

“I shall ask again. Is there a problem?”

“No sir,” Alexander said as he raised his head towards the King.

And just as the King had picked up his fork to resume his meal, Alexander’s head wiped around to Belmont.

“Except for this frogboggling onion-eyed blusk here!” As Alexander’s words were sneered out from behind his teeth, the whole crowd of men gasped, astounded at what they had just witnessed.

“Well at least I am no purpley ill-breeding liver!” Replied Belmont.

But no good nobleman backs down from a fight. A scream intended for the whole table to hear came ringing through the air.

“ You weasel-headed clay-brained bunch-backed hedge-pig!”

There was one shear moment of silence; then the chaos rained down.

Men hurled insults across the table, directed in particular direction. Chairs were thrown wildly across the length of the dinning room, and many a knives were thrusted towards the eyes of one’s neighbors. Shear terror took its place on the Kings face. He exited quickly and left the savage beasts to their fights.

But when all was said and done, and many men had lost a finger or two, Alexander opened the door.

“A man pees for three minutes and the mob breaks out their knives!

“Gosh! Why must I always miss the good stuff!”