Princess (wearily): Daddy, I've had my ears talked off by suitors, and I can't choose one!
King: Very well, my darling daughter, marry Sir Slimingham, a veritable epitome of respectability.
Princess (worriedly): Well, I suppose so, if that's what you want… (blurts desperately) But, Daddy, I can't stand him! I want someone I can trust farther than I can throw his fifty-pound helmet!
William (enters): Then marry me, Princess. You can trust me with your life, and I don't even own a fifty-pound helmet.
King (ignites): You're a goat-herder! I won't have it!
Slimingham: Neither will I! Princess, I love you! I love everything about you! Your height, your width, your clothes, your home… especially your home…
Princess (quickly): I choose William!
King and Slimingham: NO!
William: Then I suggest a duel.
King and Slimingham: Hmm…
King: Has possibilities. Daughter, you choose the weapon.
Princess (with a crafty look the others don't see): All right, whoever stays quiet the longest, standing right here in the courtyard, will win. I've practically had my ears talked off by suitors lately, and I want a rest.
Slimingham and William: All right!
King: Very well.
Princess: The Quaker contest has begun, no laughing, talking, or chewing gum. One, two, three, Quaker!
(Slimingham and William stand absolutely silently. Scene changes show time lapse. The Princess yawns frequently, glances at her wristwatch, [medieval model XP2000!] and smiles to herself. At last it is sunset. The king snores. The Princess glances at the two suitors locked in stare-down, then sneaks away.)
Princess: I've decided to be a taxi driver and talk other people's ears off for a change!
(Gallops into sunset on a white charger. Hits head on sunset and tumbles off stage.)
THE END
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