A King’s day fairytale by the Amsterdam Shallow Man

 

Once upon a time, in a faraway kingdom, was a Queen. She ruled with a soft hand, a warm smile and with deep pockets. She was constantly doing things to show that she was indeed at one with the people of her kingdom. For example, at least once a year, she would visit the most famous village in her kingdom at market time, and smile and joke with the stall holders, especially Albert of Cuyp, and would even be brave enough to eat some of their famous fruit that was often out of date and had a habit of rotting within minutes of cash changing hands. Yes, what a lovely queen she was.
In the kingdom there came a terrible recession, people were thrown out of work and were struggling to survive. Some members of the Queen’s Counsel said “my queen, perhaps to show that you are at one with your folk, you should take a pay cut” an angry queen responded, “hou op met de onzin, how do you expect me to live? I can barely survive on the 800,000 euros a year they pay me now.” The subject was never raised again. Eventually, the Queen was tired and decided it was time to retire and hand over her throne to the best-qualified candidate for a life of doing very little while earning quite a lot. So her son, William the not so quick, became King.

 

The good citizens of the kingdom put on their clothes of brightest orange and on the first ever Kings day of the new reign, partied harder than ever before, so happy were they with their new King, and their radiant Queen, daughter of a famous Argentinian scientist who invented how to descend from a plane without a parachute.

 

The ladies of the kingdom were even happier than usual, so happy were they that they would be able to combine the four things that they loved the most.

 

1. Smoking
2. Wearing jeans
3. Shouting
4. Hunting men

 

Fair Damsels, peasants and knights travelled from far and wide throughout the kingdom to be in the capital city, Amsterdam. Women whose kapsels were pittig, and men with hair as proud as a lion (king) crowded the streets.  The fair knights of that land were usually well known for being tight of pocket, bright of trousers, and slower than their king when it came to approaching the fair damsels of the land. However on Kings day, none of that mattered, all the usual rules were abandoned. The ladies and knights consumed plenty of foul tasting beverages, some out the river of Amstel, or from ken of heine, and didn’t even need to call on the services of the dark wizards of tinder to find them a mate. Those that tried, found the wizards too busy to assist, such was the demand on that fateful day.

The citizens of the kingdom were full of what in En-ger-land was known as Dutch courage, and what an unpleasant sight it was to see so many people in orange, with tongues locked together like a two headed serpent. Hands up orange jumpers and down similarly colored pants. People shouting into their phones “Ik hoor je niet, hoor! hallo? Hallo?”

Catchers of rats and mice were exceptionally happy on this day, as they were able to turn the rodents into burgers, frikandel and kebabs and sell them for five euros a time. The citizens of the kingdom were too drunk to care and consumed all with a ravenous appetite.

The celebration was so famous that thieves from the poorer countries to the east of the land, hired special coaches to ship them on masse to the kingdom, to help relieve the merry citizens from their smartphones and money. However, the constabulary was prepared, and every person of an eastern appearance, that couldn’t pronounce “Ik heb een gat gegraven op het strand in Scheveningen” was arrested immediately.

King’s day the following morning

Many a fair knight and lady, awoke the next morning to find themselves in strange beds in far away villages and hamlets with complete strangers from the night before. Sore of head and other body parts, and full of shame and regret, they reached out to that most wise of wizards, Google van Porn, and asked for maps on how to return home, and how to find alchemists that would be open so that they could take a pill for the morning after, and for magic potions that would cure or prevent any itching down below.

 

That morning throughout the land many citizens cried out as one to say, “never again or nooit meer!” So it remained, until the following Kings day.
They may not have lived happily ever after, but what a great time was had.

No Wizards or knights tight of trousers were hurt during the writing of this tale.