Chlorine levels, PH levels, nipple density, etc.; these are my responsibility now and mine alone. My loyal subjects, a collection of teenage whistle-twisters, will serve me and defend the sanctity of my rule. Has the metaphor dragged on too long?
I'll start by having my head guards craft a crown befitting my royal inheritance. I'm thinking a pool tube encrusted with dead wasps. For a throne, I will have them stack both guard stands on top of one another so my gaze over this glorious land will be unimpeded by drowning children and furious patrons. Scared?
You will be. You will be.
It's probably going to rain all day tomorrow, and we will probably close early. But a short reign is better than none at all, right? At least I'm moving up in the world, right?
One day; I have one day to soak in the power before it is wrenched back. It's all a tease, but it's my tease. I'm sure it's been posted before, but what the hell.
You can't argue with the king, baby.