Dear Duke, tell us about the time when you saved the court of France by doing your laundry.
Well, *ahem*, a most exquisite tale, that is. As you may know the French are most famous for being across the English Channel. The English Channel, as you may also know, is **called** the English Channel because the French are across it.
One day, as I was celebrating my annual laundry day (4th Sept), I heard that the court of France was convening to discuss about Frenchy things that the French do while Francing about. Little did I know that the French were in fact, plotting and scheming (as the French are wont to do) to rename the English Channel to the French Underground Channel Krossing System!
Being oblivious to the true purpose of the FUCKS meeting, I loaded all of my laundry into my swimming pool. I turned on the tap, and lo and behold! Water flowed through. But this water was of a most peculiar quality! It smelled of garlic, which naturally led me to think that it smelled of the French! I felt in my gut that there was trouble brewing in the FUCKS committee meeting and sent my homing pigeon to investigate.
30 seconds later, my pigeon informed me that the FUCKS court was drowning in their own water! Oh, the sympathy that I felt at that time was overwhelming! The pigeon told me that there was no way to save the FUCKS court and that I should leave them to die. No way! I told the pigeon. Then I remembered that my swimming pool was directly connected to the French Court! (after all, that’s where I source the finest Evian water for my swimming, laundering and pissing.
I turned on my tap to the utmost MAXIMUM and let the water rush out. My pigeon flew back to France that very second and later informed me that I had saved the FUCKS court of France by draining the water they were drowning in through the English Channel and filled my swimming pool with the finest French fluids. Naturally, the FUCKS committee were ignorant that I was their saviour, those bastards. No matter, my wastewater now travels to France, being the very source of water of Mount Evian, which I have stopped drinking since the incident.
Duke Archibald the II, Warden of the Privy, Guardian of the Reservoir, and Protector of the National Flush