Listen up y’all, I hearby declare Southern to be the Official Language of the Realm.
Now Sugar, if you just step into the Royal Chamber, I’ll tell you all the dish…
Yer Hiiii-niss, purmishun to break out de banjows please?
I want to be Her Majesty’s Royal Whipper, if only I could find a Whipping Boy. . . .
grits and cats heads for all!
Hee hee, I’m willing to give up my mug that says “Princess of Quite a Lot” to tatertot for the day! My mom has one that says “The Queen of Everything” so I got to be “Princess of Quite a Lot”, and am willing to share my crown. 
And though I don’t know you tater, Diane (I think?) had a thread title that made me laugh every time I saw it: the one that said “Tator: HEP ME HEP ME!” I could just hear this little kid voice in my head saying “HEP ME HEP ME!”
Diane will be Keeper of The Whip as well as Royal Executioner.
Rasa can be one of the assorted Princesses we keep in court.
And Coldy bring on the banjos! We’ll have us a good 'ol fashioned Hoe-Down! Whatever one of those are, not sure but with enough Guinness anything is fun! 
I, the Royal Party Planner, have returned! We’ve got the marquees, the red carpet and the solid gold throne ready for you, Your Royal Highness. I have a direct line to Dublin set up for a never-ending Guinness supply. Fidel told me that the cigars I got were from his special collection. We’ve also filled up a few glass tanks full of Bombay Sapphire gin, Bacardi 151 and Everclear. We’ve also got Beer brand beer for the hoi polloi. For entertainment, hey, we got the works. Terry Jones of Monty Python sent me a letter the other day and he says he’s going to put on a reunion show for us. (Note: one-half of the last sentence is true.) There’s enough food for everyone, and enough “Dutch import” to make sure we have the appetite for it. We also have, ahem, a “special edition” flicka flicka.
Oh, BTW, that better be one hell of a bake sale…
I made Space Cakes! Think those will sell?
Oh, and we’ll need some nacho chips with White Trash dip (yummy!)…
Ahem - I obviously mean: Greetings & felicitations from your most humble servant, your Majesty.
Say, those Royal robes are quite becoming - and what a novel place to wear crown jewels. I actually arrived with plans of trying to get commissioned as Commanding Officer of the Royal Guards, but with all this ogling going on, I’m having second thoughts. God only knows what sort of uniforms (or lack thereof) we’d end up wearing.
My, an Irish Folk dancer being accompanied by a Dutchamn playing the banjo - that’s a rare sight indeed. If I might add a personal observation, perhaps not quite rare enough. Couldn’t we ship them off to the colonies (I presume the kingdom DOES have colonies) or something ? Never mind, I’ll just circulate and start intriguing & plotting, as becomes a member of a proper court.
<bows, exits backwards, tripping a footman>
Lord High Confidant enters the court.
:: Wonders how to use his powers ::
M’lady it is my measured opinion that the FlickaCams are a valuable resource and should be installed with haste.
Oh and those shoes just don’t go with that top.
Now I have to go of and suck up to the Royal Treasurer.
Oh, gracious and glorious Queen Tatertot! Are you in need of more ladies-in-waiting? One hardly makes for a good entourage. Let me assure you, I am an expert ogler and can curtsey with the best of them.