|
|
|
|
 | |  |
| There you are, peasant. You may kiss the hem of my robe, if you like. | |
 | |  |
|
 |
| | |
| Wow, thanks a lot for saving me! Are you really a King? | |
| | |
|
|
|
|
No! He just thinks he is!
|
|
|
|
| | |
| Of course. I am King Grumpy. Can't you tell by my regal bearing and ingrained aura of authority? | |
| | |
|
|
| | |
| Who is that woman in purple shouting at us? | |
| | |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| | |
| My wife. Pay her no attention. She's falling down drunk, and anyway, she's more than a few sequins shy of an evening gown. | |
| | |
|
|
| | |
| Uhm, now she's beating the bartender with an empty champagne bottle. Maybe she needs help? | |
| | |
|
|
|
