Max here: Pre-dawn at the Casa… if the bed was North America, dad would be sleeping along the coasts of Washington, Oregon and a bit of northern California, with Charlie occupying Nevada, Utah, Idaho, Colorado, Wyoming, Montana, Kansas, Oklahoma, Missouri, Arkansas , Iowa, and the Dakotas. Mia has annexed the rest of southern California from LA down to Tijuana, and I migrate at will like a hirsute band of gypsies from region to region as the mood strikes me. As this leaves mom with the rest of the continent to occupy as she sees fit, you would think that she would be satisfied with this arrangement, but Charlie continues to expand her territory both east and west; you would think that she would be satisfied with the status quo, but what megalomaniac ever truly finished conquering? Stalin, Hitler, Genghis, Caesar, Alexander, Kanye, all driven by a blind lust and greed, but are nothing compared to the drive and determination of Charlemagne Bravissimo.
But, for now, a tentative armistice had been achieved and all is quiet on the western front, when…
Shots ring out! Is this another assassination attempt on the Max E Million? Or another failed drive-by perpetrated by the dachshunds down the street? It matters not! Rise and fight! Sound the alarm to marshall our forces to defend the borders of the fatherland! Continue sounding the alarm until, well, until dad issues the decree to terminate the racket with extreme prejudice!
As it turns out, those weren’t shots fired: who needs an alarm clock when you have a Charlie shaking her head, popping her ears and jowls like so many floppy black bull whips?
The crisis has passed, but now the resulting adrenalin surge has everyone else at the Casa up and hyperactive…
…except Charlie, who is sprawled out under the covers, sleeping the sleep of the unrepentant.
It’s great to be Queen!