SERVANTS' DREAD
There were days when the king cooked his own breakfast. The servants dreaded these days. It all began with the best of intentions and the brightest of cheerfulness. Complete with chef's hat and apron, the king would waltz into the kitchen and begin. Pots and pans clattered, cupboard doors banged, dishes crashed to the floor, and food bits flew around the kitchen like antiballistic missiles. As the king sang at the the top of his lungs, the servants could only watch and picture the clean-up job.