Long Live the King
By Order of the American Council of Alcoholics,
Mark Reiland, King of Drinking of North Carolina, Vanquisher of the King from Virginia, Lord Irish Thunder, Bearer of the Tiny Scepter, Slaughterer of Nature, is dead.
Perhaps "dead" is a little harsh. He's alive, but he is on his death bed, and will soon succumb to vaginitis. That's right, dear friends, our former monarch has decided to cut back on drinking.
And so the student has become the master.
It gives us great gobs of hojoy to announce the ascendancy of Ian, Crown Prince of Method Road, Lord and Master of His Equal-Enslavement-Opportunity Plantation, Che Guevera II, the Black Republican, Grumpster, Duke of On-Time Rent Paying, He Who Slings Dogs With Great Prowess, to the throne of King of Drinking in North Carolina.
The King is dead! Long live the King!
Dearly departed Mark had a long and illustrious reign with soaring highs and devastating lows. His war against his Virginian counterpart left our hated neighbors humiliated and hungover to the point of competitive worthlessness. The campaign he and his successor launched to control the Tallboy population was an undisputed success.
When nearby trees threatened Method Road, King Mark's assault was swift and overwhelming. When things were dangerously not on fire, Mark ignited them. When the serfs, such as Dusty and his women, acted foolish, Mark called them out. His policy of "No Skeezers with Keezers" will long be his legacy.
But now his weakened condition has necessitated a changing of the guard. Lords and Ladies, I present to you He Who Struck Himself in the Scrotum, Lord High Ambulance Driver, the Imperator of Inebriation: Ian Ronrigo Booth I!
[applause]
"Thank you, humble servants of my awesome personage. Ten months ago, when I started down the path that would lead me to this glorious throne, people said that it would take decades for me to surpass what my predecessor acheived in so few years. Today I think I have demonstrated that those people are all fools, and damned fools, at that. There shall be a great purging of them, and blood shall flow like rum, which will in turn flow like water, or perhaps oxygen.
"It was an uphill battle, requiring near-constant inebriation and a brutal tour of service waging war against the Peruvian assumption that Americans cannot drink. But when I won that battle, I knew that, some day, I would take this seat of power.
"Still, it is with a heavy heart that I assume the crown. Surely we all would have wished a more glorious end to our passing monarch, certainly one more noble and dignified that the vaginitis that at this very moment ravages his dreadfully worn and horribly sober body. Better that he should have succumbed to a tragic psaltery accident, or perhaps suffocation under a fat girl.
"But God's cruel and twisted will, not our own, be done. I am your King now, and I am a terrible and abusive ruler who will exact from you such standards of drinking as the world has never before seen. I will make an empire of bottles and cans and kegs that will shame the accomplishments of my forerunners. The weak shall perish early and only the strong will be around to inherit the world that I build with nought but blood, sweat, tears, and semen, each one so intermingled with pure, delicious, live-giving alcohol as to be indistinguishable.
"Thus, my decrees, each in the best interest of my own immortal glory:
1) More drinking
2) A less sausage-intensive kingdom
3) Failing #2, more drinking still
4) A new hierarchy:
Knights, with Titles:
Sir David the First
Sir Olivier the Black
Sir Matt the Twin
Sir Mike the Other Twin Whose Name Comes Second For Alphabetical Purposes
Royal Supplier:
Mark Reiland
Chief of the Air Force:
Kyle White
Serf:
Dusty Dutch
Serf Overseer:
Katie Woodruff
Secretary of Agriculture:
Brian the Pothead
More to come as I deem fit in my divine and infinite wisdom. Now, go forth and do my bidding, which is to drink, and also to help me to drink."
Signed,
Ian Ronrigo Booth, King
Mark Reiland, King of Drinking of North Carolina, Vanquisher of the King from Virginia, Lord Irish Thunder, Bearer of the Tiny Scepter, Slaughterer of Nature, is dead.
Perhaps "dead" is a little harsh. He's alive, but he is on his death bed, and will soon succumb to vaginitis. That's right, dear friends, our former monarch has decided to cut back on drinking.
And so the student has become the master.
It gives us great gobs of hojoy to announce the ascendancy of Ian, Crown Prince of Method Road, Lord and Master of His Equal-Enslavement-Opportunity Plantation, Che Guevera II, the Black Republican, Grumpster, Duke of On-Time Rent Paying, He Who Slings Dogs With Great Prowess, to the throne of King of Drinking in North Carolina.
The King is dead! Long live the King!
Dearly departed Mark had a long and illustrious reign with soaring highs and devastating lows. His war against his Virginian counterpart left our hated neighbors humiliated and hungover to the point of competitive worthlessness. The campaign he and his successor launched to control the Tallboy population was an undisputed success.
When nearby trees threatened Method Road, King Mark's assault was swift and overwhelming. When things were dangerously not on fire, Mark ignited them. When the serfs, such as Dusty and his women, acted foolish, Mark called them out. His policy of "No Skeezers with Keezers" will long be his legacy.
But now his weakened condition has necessitated a changing of the guard. Lords and Ladies, I present to you He Who Struck Himself in the Scrotum, Lord High Ambulance Driver, the Imperator of Inebriation: Ian Ronrigo Booth I!
[applause]
"Thank you, humble servants of my awesome personage. Ten months ago, when I started down the path that would lead me to this glorious throne, people said that it would take decades for me to surpass what my predecessor acheived in so few years. Today I think I have demonstrated that those people are all fools, and damned fools, at that. There shall be a great purging of them, and blood shall flow like rum, which will in turn flow like water, or perhaps oxygen.
"It was an uphill battle, requiring near-constant inebriation and a brutal tour of service waging war against the Peruvian assumption that Americans cannot drink. But when I won that battle, I knew that, some day, I would take this seat of power.
"Still, it is with a heavy heart that I assume the crown. Surely we all would have wished a more glorious end to our passing monarch, certainly one more noble and dignified that the vaginitis that at this very moment ravages his dreadfully worn and horribly sober body. Better that he should have succumbed to a tragic psaltery accident, or perhaps suffocation under a fat girl.
"But God's cruel and twisted will, not our own, be done. I am your King now, and I am a terrible and abusive ruler who will exact from you such standards of drinking as the world has never before seen. I will make an empire of bottles and cans and kegs that will shame the accomplishments of my forerunners. The weak shall perish early and only the strong will be around to inherit the world that I build with nought but blood, sweat, tears, and semen, each one so intermingled with pure, delicious, live-giving alcohol as to be indistinguishable.
"Thus, my decrees, each in the best interest of my own immortal glory:
1) More drinking
2) A less sausage-intensive kingdom
3) Failing #2, more drinking still
4) A new hierarchy:
Knights, with Titles:
Sir David the First
Sir Olivier the Black
Sir Matt the Twin
Sir Mike the Other Twin Whose Name Comes Second For Alphabetical Purposes
Royal Supplier:
Mark Reiland
Chief of the Air Force:
Kyle White
Serf:
Dusty Dutch
Serf Overseer:
Katie Woodruff
Secretary of Agriculture:
Brian the Pothead
More to come as I deem fit in my divine and infinite wisdom. Now, go forth and do my bidding, which is to drink, and also to help me to drink."
Signed,
Ian Ronrigo Booth, King