An Prideful Nocturne

The Queen walked in wearing oily overalls, holding a fancy baby. “I’m a great-grandmother now. But team, we gotta get this sucker wavin’. The status quo will not do.” Ten functionaries in lab coats rushed forward, gently hoisted the child aloft, and marched into the next room. The sound of air tools permeated the palace for the next few hours while the Queen enjoyed a snifter of the finest Châteaux Soirée.

Suddenly, one of the functionaries emerged, with the baby dressed in a RN lieutenant’s uniform and swaddled in a papoose. “I got it to wave, ma’am,” he cried. The Queen held up a glossy 8″x10″ photo of an adoring crowd, and the young lieutenant responded by waving gleefully, palm-out. “No no, that’s a regular wave,” the Queen said. “It has to do our funny crap wave. Give me the child.” The functionary put the baby lieutenant down and scuttled off. The Queen looked at the baby. “Baby. You must wave. If you can’t, I will find someone who can.” She looked dolefully at the red-headed prince what dressed like a Nazi, who was seated in a plush armchair in the corner, and had been this whole time. The red-headed prince snapped off a perfect royal-family-funny-crap-wave, and smirked at the baby lieutenant.
The baby lieutenant knew that the pressure was on, and committed himself to a waving-training montage to the tune of Alice Cooper’s “No More Mister Nice Guy.” Baby Windsor-Crimea von Hohenstaufen-Horst-Wessel-Lied auf dem Bülow Saintemarie Smythe Smythe successfully completed the waving-training montage, and became King of Everything after only 84 years as a prince.