This is for fun, so... don't take it seriously
mmm... eerf... cough! Cough!
stretching out on the bed... this is morning sunday ... i am looking at the ceiling...
mmm... what a hangover... shit. I’ll never drink again.
Knocking on the door... a voice says: "Madam, have you already woken up, ma’am?"
I am thirsty.
-Water!.... My kingdom for water... (Why’s mommy talking to me like this?)
Mom, can you fetch me some water, please? My head’s gonna blow up!
-Yes ma’am. – the voice says.
Not a minute has passed when somebody I can’t recognize opens the door with a silver tray with a luxury glass of water on it.
I am astonished - Who the hell are you? Where’s my mother?
-Sir, this is Duke de Angulema, carrier of Queen’s water, Grand of Spain, your mother is at her palace.
-Muahuahuahua, yes, and I am the king of MB.
-Sir, I don’t understand that, MB?
-My Balls, the king of My Balls. Gimme the water before I call police!
-Here you go, Ma’am... Why do we need police, is there any trouble with Uncle Carlos?
-Stop calling me a girl, you funny fag...
I drink the water, but I spill some... onto my chest... wait... it ain’t no chest... it’s rather breast!! What’s going on!? This room’s not mine... this man dressing as a page is not mom. This breast is not mine. Sigh. I’ve got no computer around, no mobile phone, no modern clothes... This guy’s calling me Madam and I have an uncle called Carlos...
-You, bastard!! How am I called!?
-Isabel, Madam, you are the queen, daughter of Ferdinand... and you don’t seem to be in a good mood.
-Shut up, what is today's date?
- What year?
- ...um... 1836, ma’am.
-What? Really? Am I Isabella I of Castile?
- em... not really. You are Isabella II of Spain.
-Oh no! MIERDA!
-Any problem, ma’am?
-Yes, idiot! I’ve not studied this period yet, so we won’t have advantage...
-I don’t unders...
-Have we already conquered Granada?
-Kind of yes ma’am, like four hundred years ago.
-Oh, nice, that was a bloodletting... I want to see a map of my Empire.
-Well Ma’am, we have none.
-Yes, we do have maps, but we have no Empire.
-How come? Aren’t we keeping half America?
-No longer... just Cuba.
-What happened? Who lost it?
-Don’t you remember, ma’am? ...Napoleon, Fointanebleau, Cadiz Constitution, the wars that devastated our Empire...
-yes, of course... ok, let’s be positive, at least we don’t need to face more wars...
I stand up and get dressed with the help of five men. It’s quite strange to dress as a Queen, but it’s nice to feel I am the most powerful person in the world. I call a meeting with all the State men... They are all dressing like in old-fashioned movies. Each one is quite tight and serious.
-C’mon boys! Don’t be so serious, What’s wrong?
-Queen, we are having some news from the North.
-Flanders? Are they revolting again!? –I shout. - Send Duke of Alba and my Tercios! Slaughter those infidels!! –I order furiously raising my fists.
Everybody laughs quietly. Duke of Angulema facepalms and says to his neighbour: “don’t know what’s wrong with her today”.
-Ma’am, I was referring to your Uncle Carlos. He’s coming from his villa in the north for the royal marriage. The crown needs heirs.
-Marriage? Uncle Carlos? With whom? –I frowned...
-Of course with you, Ma’am. The Pope has approved the marriage; no matter you are already relatives.
The queen shows to the silent audience her middle finger.
-Um, no my Queen, that’s not the ring finger.
-No way I am marring him. NO FUCK-ING WAY!
-But, Queen! He’s coming for the wedding. This might mean war, civil war.
-So what? I won’t sacrifice my virginity!! (Some men laugh staring one another... I keep in mind their faces). It’s worth a war. We just need to send huge armies and kill them all. Faccilissimo. And we have to industrialize, so you, instead of lazing around, start investing your money.
-My Queen, why don’t we avoid ground battle and wait until Carlos comes into terms? There is no need in killing those men, who are, after all, good Spaniards.
-Ok, whatever... (As long as I don’t have to get laid). Industrialize!! What next?
-Yes, Ma’am, can we walk into the Audience Chamber, an interesting offer is coming.
We horribly slowly walk into that chamber. I take a sit on a comfortable couch and have a look at the courtiers, they are flirting with the guardsmen. Um, nice girls, I’ll come up with an idea to see’em privately. But some other thing calls my attention. A funny man is passing through the gates into the chamber. He walks so pompously and with such an ostentation.
The funny man bows and says: Bonjour Mademoiselle, je suis, tu es, il est. Je représente allons enfants de la patrie...
I ask my external affairs counsellor.
-What's he talking about?
-I do not know French, my queen. (I facepalm)
I ask the funny man.
-Ok, you French?
- We? uhm? We what?
-Oui! ...-he shrugged his shoulders-... Wow!
-WE? ... WAR?
-je suis fran...
-YES?? WE WAR?? OH GOD!!... -I stand up and serenely walk until we are face to face... I look at him from his feet to his eyes and say: - You bring the crowns and heads of conquered kings to my city steps...- my counsellor looks at me as if I was completely mad.- You insult myself, [wind blows] you threaten my people with slavery and death... now, ... can you step a little bit to your right? Next to that well? –I pat his shoulder...
-umm?- he wonders and steps to his right.
-THIS IS ESPAÑA!!- The queen of Spain hitches up her skirt and kicks the French’s chest, his body falls into the well, into oblivion.
-What have you done!??! My queen!! –my counsellor was shocked.
-C’mon, he was bringing the crowns and heads of conquered kings and so on.
-No, ma’am, he was bringing that. –He points at a kind of paper on the floor. He goes and takes it, clears his throat: -The king of France wants an alliance.
-Ditto. clean this mess