Alas, but the poor peasants have finally collapsed from lack of food! What shall we do about this, milord?

But what? They are only peasants! Does it matter if one or two or a thousand die? Those things reproduce like rabbits!

Curiously enough, they do not reproduce like rabbits, sire.

Do I look like I care about such a trivial detail as that?

Even though your face is an unique one, even a fool could tell what you are feeling on that unique face of yours.

Funnily enough, I feel somewhat that I am being insulted. Are you mocking me, Jenkins?

Gods no! Whatever gave you that idea?

Have you both forgotten the situation at hand? If the peasants die, there will be no one to farm the fields? And if the fields are not farmed, there shall be no food to eat, for anyone!

Is that really true?

Just look out the windows and see for yourself, milord! There are peasants dropping down dead as we speak?

Kind of funny actually. Let's see how long we can talk before another d-

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Look! There's a death right now!

Maybe you two have forgotten again, but we need to feed the peasants.

No need to be so worried, Thomason. There should still be plenty alive having babies or something somewhere.

Oh for the last time! Do you think I would bother you if the situation were not urgent?!

Perhaps Thomason is right, sire. We should lend the peasants some food from the stores so they can farm the lands again and pay us back -with interest, of course.

Quite so. Thomason, call the remaining peasants and give them some food from the stores. And remind me to increase their taxes once the famine is over.

Readily done, milord. I shall go at once.

So, Jenkins, what were we conversing about before poor Thomason ran in?

The witch trials that are to be happening soon, I believe, sire.

Using wells to determine whether the accused is guilty or not of witchcraft really is the best idea I have ever heard. Jenkins, arrange my schedule so I have time to go to the witch trials. If that is not possible, postpone the trials to a time when I am free.

Very well, milord. I shall do so this very minute.

While you are at it, Jenkins, please make time for that man - what was his name again?

Xavier, I believe it was, sire.

Yes, make time for time for Xavier to come over. I believe he has a new invention to show me. He wrote in his letter that it was a…

Zipper, sire. I shall do so immediately. Now, if you will excuse me, I am off to make time for the many and most likely petty whims of sire.