Her Majesty perched regally atop the majestic throne, weary from a life of opulence and entitlement. Despite her grandiose surroundings, the Queen lamented what she considered to be her “bland existence.”

“I’m bored! Entertain me!” she commanded to no one and everyone. “Whoever perks my spirits shall share a place of preference in my palace.”

Instinctively, her loyal subjects scurried about, hoping to be the one to catch her favor. Such an honor is generally reserved for nobility. Earning it would raise a lowly commoner to the esteemed status of Royalty-Adjacent.

The first in line was the village carpenter, a human of considerable woodworking prowess. He had created a magnificent spectacle and was ready to offer it unconditionally.

“Your Majesty,” he humbly deferred, “I have built for you a marvelous cat tree with dozens of perches and a vast array of dangling baubles for you to bat and bite. There is none like it anywhere in the world, and I would be honored if you would accept this gift and place it prominently in your throne room.”

The Queen inspected the creation, albeit casually. It was indeed impressive. However, Her Majesty was nonplussed.

“I possess all the trees as far as the eye can see,” she coldly affirmed. “If I can rest atop the tallest redwood or the mightiest oak, why would I want to take leisure on this artificial abomination? Remove it from my chamber!”

 

As the carpenter and his creation were swiftly escorted out of the castle, the village toy maker, who was next in line, approached the throne.

“Your Highness,” the rotund, bespectacled biped confidently proclaimed. “I have invented a multi-chambered, reflective targeting, twelve-point-scatter-shooting laser cannon. When activated, it will send out more than two-hundred tiny red dots in every direction. Each one you can chase until your generous heart is content, or your elegant paws are weary.”

Unmoved, the Queen simply rolled her royal eyes.

“Begone!” she barked, not bothering to offer an explanation for her curt dismissal.

“But, but, but…,” the confused craftsman babbled, “cats love the red dot! They scamper after them incessantly!”

“Silence, Fool!” she commanded. “I said ‘entertain me,’ not humansplain me!’ I haven’t even caught the one red dot that invades this castle. Why would I want hundreds of them? Take him away!”

And so it was, for fourteen days and fourteen nights, the seemingly endless line of self-proclaimed artists, orators and intellectuals sycophantically approached the throne with items or ideas they each considered better than the one before. Not surprisingly, the queen was unimpressed with them all.

Finally, as the queue reached its finish, a young peasant boy stood alone. Dirty and disheveled, he presented the Queen with a simple, off-brand bag of treats.

“I got this fer ya at th’market, I did,” he chattered, as if straight out of a Dickensian tale. “I scrape’tup all me pennies, put’em in me pocket and plowed me neighbor’s field t’get th’rest. I do ever so hope ya ly’kit.”

The Queen looked deep into the eyes of the young lad, wondering what in all the lands possessed this child to make such an absurd, ubiquitous purchase.

“Why,” she asked, “would you present to me the food of feline paupers?”

“Well,” the boy responded without answering the question, “if ya don’ wannit, I ‘ave a gift receipt.”

He held out the tiny, rectangular proof of purchase which the Queen summarily refused by virtue of her silence. Dejected, the peasant boy wadded up the receipt and hurled the crumpled paper across the room.

That’s when everything changed!

The Queen leapt from her royal perch, furiously pursuing the makeshift crinkle ball. She smacked, batted and bopped that slapdash sphere for another fourteen days and fourteen nights — or so the legend goes — until her previously unquenchable amusement needs were, at long last, satiated.

The peasant boy, for his thoughtful kindness and reckless showmanship, was elevated to the position of Royal Domestic. That title awarded him great affection while subsequently requiring him to feed, clean up after and — of course — entertain Her Royal Highness. It was a role he happily accepted and would cherish for a lifetime.

And that’s the story of how I, the Tall Lumbering Human, met Leia.