Stifle Your Sovereignty! A King’s Job is His Job, You Bunch of…

Alright, what’s the story here? What’s all this noise? I’m sittin’ in my chair, I turn on the television, and I see a bunch of… well, I don’t know what they are… down in the street, carryin’ on about how we don’t need no king. “No Kings!” they’re yellin’.

I’ll tell ya, it’s enough to make you wanna drink your beer before it gets warm.

Now, I’m gonna try to be calm about this. I’m gonna use logic. You take a king. What is he? He’s the fella in charge. It’s his job. Like a brain surgeon or a plumber. You don’t see a bunch of people standin’ outside the hospital yellin’ “No Brain Surgeons!” while some guy’s got his head open on the table, do ya? No! Because it’s stupid!

But this? This is even stupider!

These protestors, with their hair all… interesting… they think freedom means nobody’s the boss. Let me ask you somethin’. Who’s the boss of a ship? The captain? Or is it a committee of the passengers gettin’ together to vote on which way to turn the wheel? “I vote left!” “I vote right!” And then you hit the iceberg. That’s what this “No Kings” is. It’s a one-way trip to the iceberg, and you’re all singin’ songs on the way down!

And for what? So you can be “oppressed”? Let me tell you about oppressed. Oppressed is havin’ a son-in-law who’s a know-it-all college boy who don’t know nothin’. Oppressed is payin’ taxes so some guy who never held a real job can protest the king! The king probably got a palace! He ain’t worried about you! He’s probably got a headache from all the yellin’!

You want a real protest? Protest the price of a decent beer! Protest that my wife, God love her, her meatloaf could be used as a building material! Protest somethin’ that matters!

But a king? A king is tradition. He’s like… the hood ornament on the car of the country. Does the hood ornament steer the car? No! But you take it off, and what have you got? A car that looks like it’s missing something. That’s what you’re doin’. You’re makin’ the whole country look like it’s missing something.

So why don’t you do us all a favor, you bunch of… uh… enthusiastic citizens. Go home. Have a cold one. And let the fella with the crown worry about the big picture. It’s what he’s there for. Stifle yourselves already. Am I right or am I right?