Having recently arrived at her new stately manor, queenie peered out of the window of the carriage to see well dressed butlers busily scurrying about carrying her possessions, (most of which were paid for by pawning the final possessions of others) in through the side entrances.

The door to the carriage was opened by the coachman, who pulled down the steps to allow a dignified descent for the royal, tea sipper.

Waiting, as her majesty ambled down the 2 steps from the coach to the ground, was the head butler offering a bone china cup filled with tea atop a saucer accompanied by a chocolate digestive biscuit. She took a hold of the "borrowed" museum exhibit which had once been labelled as 'last known in-tact work of Davenport' and started to make her way towards the entrance of the house.

"We are impressed with the grand architecture of this new HQ of ours, aren't we. Jeeves?" queenie stated matter of factly.
"Yes ma'am"

As queenie admired her new residence, whilst sipping at her tea, a 1931 Buick Eight pulled up behind the carriage. Not expecting any visitors at this time, the head butler, Jeeves, along with several other nearby servants huddled to block the view between the car and queenie, pulled out concealed automatic weapons from under their various exterior apparels, pointed them towards the automobile and stood ready to see whether they would be needed or not.

Out from the driver side window of the car popped a set of mock leather racing gloves, filled with a pair of hands. One re-entered the window and a moment later both the driver and passenger doors swung open. Casually, out stepped a pair of mustachiod men. One man dressed in formal military uniform and another dim witted turnip faced man who, apart from his gloves looked as mangy as a 12 year old pooch, living behind a dumpster in an allyway because it had been rejected residence by the rats in the gutter upon it's arrival 11 and a half years before.

"Ahh, queenie... good weather for a spot of tea and doing some morrison dancing"

"calm down, Darling, we're not in England any more... No. I think we need to reinvent ourselves out here. The locals aren't as keen on me as they used to be, apparently. I saw one man stick his middle finger up at me and say "up yours Britain" at first i thought he might be saying something rude, but then i realised it's only one finger, not two, so it's probably the way the people around here show appreciation. Also, saying up yours Britain definately sounds a lot like he's cheering us on, don't you think?"

Darling flashes queenie a forced smile as to not show what he thought about that previous statement. Then begins to berate the help for not being quicker with the offering of refreshments, mimicing someone who'd spent a weekend in the desert without water, dramatically gasping as if the dryness of his throat somehow stopped the air flow to his lungs. He then points at the car and tells his scabby driver to sit in it and wait for his return.

"It's a bit boring isn't it? The whole... plain house thing. It's been done soooo many times before. Dontcha think, Darling? I was thinking of allowing the local youths a chance to show off their amazing art work skills with paints. Let them in for a day and have them just run riot all over the outside of the house, brightening it up and adding some colour... then rounding up the bally lot of them and having them shot for breaking the law and vandalizing my property!" queenie grins ecstatically at the self pronounced genius of her plan and waits for those around her to grin and congratulate her for being so smart as to think of that by herself.

"Now!" her voice and facial expressions instantly transform to a serious nature. "Whilst we're here. We have a serious job to do and we aren't going to take that fact lightly. Nor are we going to simply, party and enjoy ourselves at every opportunity. We have to fight to keep what we have claimed. We have to build and earn so future generations may prosper from what we have today."The servants quickly realise the use of the "royal we" and that everything being said is what they will be doing whilst queenie and company are partying and enjoying themselves at every opportunity... queenie's "we" speech continues on. (Whilst that is going on in the back ground, I'd like to offer a sincere thank you to all who have been good enough to say a kind word about me publicly and shown your support) ... "We shall never surrender... We shall.."

After a while everybody stops listening and goes about their duties, all except poor Cpt_Darling who by this point wishes they had just telegrammed a "congrats" instead of coming to say it person, like the smart people did. During her speech/rant fruit baskets and house warming plant deliveries had arrived with cards and notes attached. queenie realised, after a lengthy self aggrandizing verbal pat on her own back that people had lost interest. She sighed, remembering stories of the awe a monarch used to inspire in generations past. She finished her tea which had been cold for a while at this point, gave the cup and saucer to the nearest servant and entered the new HQ, ready to sort out, sign and seal the mountain of paperwork on her desk.

Visas took some time out to travel into Corktown to check up on how queenie had been getting on since moving into the district and it was no surprise to Visas that queenie had entered Corktown with all the pomp and flair befitting one of Royalty.

Visas smiled as she watched Queenies footmen and assorted lackeys struggle to carry all of her furniture and belongings into the new HQ Visas was unsure of what type of gift was suitable for the English Monarch so bought her a bottle of the finest Mississippi Moonshine  she could find fresh from some flea bitten still.

Queenie it looks like you are settling in fine here i bought you a gift from our Southern neighbours i am sure Cpt_Darling will find it to his liking as will you i am sure.

So when you have time i would suggest cracking this here bottle and celebrate your claim to the throne of Corktown.

queenie, along with her usual entourage of help recieves Visas at the front gate. Jeeves takes the bottle, reads the label and comments on the splendid taste Madam Visas has.

queenie grins in anticipation... "Ha, great laugh and what have you Visas! Tthat vile poison is what you get for dad's on their birthday or for any old Aaron A. Aaronson when they graduate... soooo..." queenie giggles and claps excitedly "what did you really get me? was it a stately limo, from one of the many detroit based motor company stle pies you have your well manicured fingers in? ooo ooo or is it a pair of ferocious guard tigers?!"

queenie notices Visas face remain blank "oh, no no... ofcourse, silly of me really. the not tea drink is lovely, i'm sure..." she courtseys and extands her hand out to gesture to Visas to come inside with her

Captain Darling was absolutely appalled by the position he currently found himself in. He appeared, to those not in the know, to be nothing more than a mere lackey, hired help, one of the nobodies from below stairs. He struggled to keep hold of several boxes of royal bric-à-brac as he ungraciously stumbled up some steps.

Darling had done everything in his power to ingratiate himself with queenie, he laughed at her terrible jokes, he nodded enthusiastically in agreement every time she announced that she was simply amazing. He complimented her genius when she announced her plan to entrap local ruffians, by letting them paint her new headquaters,  he even carried in boxes of her knickknacks, like some kind of peasant.

He knew it was only a matter of time before she'd finally, publicly, display how much she loved him, bestowing upon him a title and with it, copious amounts of land and subjects to lord it about over.

After saving himself an embarrassing tumble on the steps, Captain Darling entered the hallway and handed the boxes off to one of the servants. The servant threw him a filthy look as he turned to take the items to their proper place. Darling knew the staff resented him, they were jealous of queenie's affection for him, he gave a smug smirk as he entered queenie's private study.

"Ah, Darling!" queenie exclaimed excitedly. "Did you bring in my boxes?"

Captain Darling bowed his head and confirmed that he did.

Clapping her hands excitedly queenie squealed. "Brilliant! And because I am so awesome I have something for you" Taking some car keys from her desk queenie held them out, a big grin on her face. "Here" she said "These are for you"

Hardly able to contain his excitement, Darling took the keys and stuttered "T-t-thank you, ma'am. This is so...so... generous of you, I don't quite know what to...."

He was cut off by queenie as she shrieked "Yes! I'm going to let you drive MY car, to go and pick up more of my items." "Aren't you so lucky!" queenie twittered excitedly.

A nervous tic caused Captain Darling's left eye to twitch uncontrollably as he replied "Yes, ma'am. I am surely blessed to be shown such favour"

As Darling stood there, convinced that queenie must have something more for him, she tilted her head to the side and said

"Off you go then." She motioned him out of the room and closed the door.

After standing looking at the closed door for a minute, Captain Darling straightened his blazer and turned to exit the building. He caught the eye of the butler, who appeared to sneer at him, undoubtedly jealous that queenie was letting him, Darling, drive HER car! None of those peasants on the payroll would have such privilege. 

Darling picked up his pace as he left, making a big effort to display that he was holding queenie's car keys, to any of the hired staff who were busy doing the menial tasks queenie had set them.