In addition to the essential courtiers that Himself selected from a field of both gorgeous and cutthroat competition, there were many offers to fill other roles.
There were several volunteers to be the Court’s Jester.
There was a volunteer to be Royal Shoe Shopper.
There was also a volunteer to be the Royal Food Taster, although truly I think that was just a ploy to get at my chocolate.
And as tempting as all those offers were – I mean REALLY tempting, I bloody HATE shoe shopping – I politely declined. You get too many court staff and then you’ve got the forms, the W-2’s, the inter-kingdom transfers and once the payroll tax gets to be more than a half a dozen goats and the village virgin then you need an accountant with a degree in non-Euclidian bookkeeping and it’s just an administrative nightmare.
So I was focused. A small, elite group of women and I would just have to live without a Royal Bun Warmer or a Royal Cupcakier.
An offer came.
An offer came I couldn’t say no to.
I just couldn’t.
You see, I’ve been without one for ages. Not since my college days. And once you’ve had one – a really GOOD one – you feel that hole when you are living without.
So when I was approached by someone eager to fill this position, well…I just had to say yes.
So IPoMP is happy to announce that we now have an official Sassy Gay Friend of the Court:
Yes, my friend Mitch showed me the error of my sassy gay friendless ways, and of COURSE I agreed.
Because we NEED a Sassy Gay Friend for the Court.
We NEED someone to let us know when our velvets are dated, our silks are too too, and our cleavage not deep enough. (Ok, like I’m not gonna get that last one right, but I s’pose it could happen.)
So please give Sir Mitch the warm welcome he deserves. And if you are lucky enough to get a blessing with that wand, well then you can be assured a fan-friggin’-tastic day.