Do Not Try This At Home

I am ready.

For fire. Hurricane. Tsunami. Flood. Famine. Plague. Locusts. Blog disasters of all kinds. And flood. I said flood, didn't I?

And that's what I had. A flood of epic Biblical gigantic minute proportions in the basement. Down where the prisoners live. In the dungeon. And not a one of them can swim! And who was left to save them? Moi. That's who.


Sometimes a Queen's gotta do what a Queen's gotta do. And there was no one else to do it. Homer couldn't do it. Who could trust a dog with such a task? You see. I was in a pickle. The servants gone for the weekend and wouldn't you know it? Catastrophe strikes. So I did the only thing I could in such a circumstance. I made Homer put his paw on the Bible and take the Queen oath until I returned, just in case things got ugly and someone needed a royal meme decision by proxy. And then, I did what any self-respecting pencil skirt would do. I dressed for the occasion.

It took a half an hour to untangle the face masks from the box and get them on but I finally did it. One on my face, one on top of my head, and the rest dangling down for backup. You always need back up in an emergency. I just pretended they were extra earrings and went on my way.

It was a mess. A burst pipe in the wall. The entire hallway flooded with water under the floor. The staircase closet was a swamp. Smelly, soaked Christmas decorations. Baby Jesus fell out of his bubble wrap and the Wise Men were looking none too happy. It was a moldy mess. Lizards were running everywhere and my Charles Dickens Christmas village was underwater. Somebody had to do something. It just wasn't right. So I went where no Queen has gone before.

Shut up Homer.
After the masks came the goggles. I googled goggles to make sure I was in proper gear mode. I was. See? But I soon became a tad disoriented and the room started to spin. Everything got real fuzzy and my brain was in under-drive. Do you smell smoke? It was not a good day in Bloggingham. I don't think I have this on correctly. Drats! Maybe I should google "scuba" instead.

Don't I look scary?

And things got really ugly. No one at Google told me about the hyperventilation problem or that this would mess up my hair. I needed help. I looked it up in The Self-Help For Blog Queens Dictionary Online. "Hyperventilation occurs when you do not have proper mental or atmospheric ventilation. In rare instances, asphyxiation can cause fainting and or death when googles are worn too tightly." I'd better hurry up and get this job done, I thought, before some blogger walks by and takes a picture of me looking like this. There's no time to lose.

I decided I needed tools.
Glorious tools! No one told me how much fun tooling would be but I knew with the proper weapons torturous memes tools I could rescue my friends downstairs.
Scraping brush, putty knife, sharp object. And paper earrings that looked like cheap Halloween female body parts. Perfect! I had it under control.

Never fear, my little prisoners. They were putty in my hands!

Did you say something, Homer?
Yes, I said.....
That's what I thought you said. You're such a good royal dog. When all this drama is over I'm going to buy you a set of google goggles all your own. You'll be the talk of Bloggingham. Uh....Homer....have you seen my camera?

The moment had arrived. I was dressed and ready for action. It was time to descend the stairs and face the muddy music. Lizards or no lizards, somebody had to rescue Baby Jesus, who by this time was lying face down in a pile of water in the bottom of the closet where his manger shouldn't have been in the first place. And it was all my fault! And then it happened. Round about the third dungeon step my left earring got caught in the brush bristles and ripped in two leaving me with one naked ear and no matching pair.


How could I face Baby Jesus only half assembled? He deserves a cohesive Queen.

And then I did what any self-respecting soaking wet exhausted smelly half-dressed Queen would do.
I called a plumber.

Homer? Homer??! Homer!
Put that camera down!
I hope these don't get on the Internet.


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