The king and I undertook an expedition to Ikea for some Christmas shopping. The evening began with an onslaught on the twenty meatballs on sale, and six pieces of chicken wings soaked through in oil. Sinfully delectable.
We realized that Ikea achieved a rather high level of realism in their display set when we bumped into a couple resting on a bed behind drawn curtains, and another squeaking in the next bathroom. We meant to retire to his amk palace upon the completion of our shopping quest, but the presentation of a complimentary parking ticket at the cashier extended our shopping trip to cheapo Anchor Point.
The evening concluded with an audience with the king in his place of power, his throne room, the seat of intimacy. Long live the king!
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