Seymour - "Has drinks with the Queen" pt1

Who: Seymour Niples
Where: Windsor Castle, New Tenerife
When: Present time
Seymour sat in the lavish dining room in the Queen's castle. It had a
rustic and old fashioned style to it, despite it only being built
several years ago at the Queen's whim. She was an incredibly flaky
person and Seymour half suspected that she'd be bored of the castle
already and want to move to somewhere else. This wouldn't be such a
problem if she didn't demand the most grand and impressive buildings
such as she did. It was Seymour's idea to build this mansion in the
style of an old-fashioned Royal palace, in-keeping with several
hundred years worth of Royal history. Brittany wanted a totally
impractical stylish skyscraper build entirely out of crystal. She
didn't even mind that it would be totally transparent and people
would be able to watch her shower from the mainland. Brittany wasn't
bashful, as Seymour had found out the first time he'd been shown her
provocative pictures in magazines.
Luckily he'd managed to talk her our of that idea, but with a
compromise. The two thirds of the house were painted fluorescent pink
on Brittany's request.
This room seemed to be the only one that still retained the classic
medieval charm that Seymour loved so much. This was why he sat here,
waiting for Brittany to show herself. He looked down at his
sandwiches that the servants had brought him. Cress sandwiches. He
hated cress sandwiches. Surely there was nothing less substantial in
this universe than a cress sandwich.
"Seymour!" The Queen said as she came in. She'd had a full change of
clothes and her hair smelled of cheap supermarket shampoo that
Seymour disapproved of. He stood and she hugged him, making him feel
uncomfortable. Seymour had grown up with the protocol of the class
system drilled into him, and he was pretty sure that hugging a Queen
wasn't one of them. He patted her on the back as she squeezed him
found the waist and then he backed away.
"Ma'am!" He said. She just laughed. "Seymour don't be so uptight!"
She sat down at the dinner table and clicked her fingers. One of her
servants brought a silver platter with a can delicately placed in the
centre. She grabbed the can and cracked it open, floaming liquid
poured out of it before she put it to her mouth and ungracefully
sucked on it.
"Ma'am... is that... is that lager?"
"Yeah Seymour it's great. Wanna try a bit?"She said, offering the can
to him. Seymour put his hands up in defence.
"No ma'am. Thank you." Then he thought about how to phrase his next
question. "Why... are you drinking lager?"
"Oh it's great. It's not any old lager of course."
"Of course. I'm glad." Seymour admitted.
"It's from this planet about 17 light years away, beyond some
asteroid belt, real hard to get to. It's made by these creatures who
have no arms or legs. We can't really speak their language, we call
them the 'Nolims'."
Seymour rolled his eyes.
"And they make the best lager in the whole universe."
"That can't be that hard." Seymour said under his breath, then
realised he'd said it a little too loud and instantly feared Brittany
might have heard and taken offence. She was prone to mood swings, and
very occasional had an incredibly bad temper, which was an extremely
terrifying thing when you had as much power as the Queen. There was a
steely silence as Brittany glared at him. Seymour started to sweat.
<Dun dun duuuun... will Seymour piss off the Queen? Sorry if this is
the lamest cliffhanger, this post was a bit long and this was the
best place I could find to chop it in half!>