An Audience With the Prince!

Barry-Eylund's meeting with the prince does not seem to begin especially well.
'Incompetent nincompoop!' expectorates Rupprecht. 'Foolish lackwit! Reckless half-witted donkey-brain!'
The general nods sagely. 'You do me too great an honour, my lord'.
'I do?' says Rupprecht, looking confused.
'Why yes, sire.'
'Bone-headed untalented amateur!' Rupprecht continues, looking unsure.
'I am embarrassed by your effusive praise, my prince' says Barry-Eylund, bowing low.
'But ... but I think I'm insulting you', replies Rupprecht. 'I think. I'm almost sure that I was going to remove you from command of my ... oooh, what's that that's just fallen out of your pocket?'

The general looks around with exaggerated care. 'Fallen out of my pocket? I don't think that ... but here!' he says, picking something up and brandishing it. 'Why, it seems to be a plump and tasty bratwurst sausage of the very best quality!'
'I command you to give it here!' orders Rupprecht, looking for a short moment like a proper prince, and exercising a measure of sausage-related gravitas and authority. As Rupprecht then begins to gobble down the bratwurst, he says around mouthfuls of protuberant pork produce 'What were we talking about?'
'I think', says the general, 'that you were about to promote me'.
'Was I?' says Rupprecht with a look of gluttonous, not to say glutinous, confusion. 'Was I? But our plans involving herr Agorn are in ruins; and I've lost half of my new navy; and you suffered an appalling defeat at the battle of Wuppenhas!'
Barry-Eylund nods sagely. 'All of which my lord, leads us to a conversation regarding the ways in which you will be able to buy more pigs because I have been able to economise substantially on our military spending'.
Fecklenburg rolls his eyes.

'Fecklenburg!' says Rupprecht, 'what say you. For you are my right hand'.
'Thank you, sir' replies the chamberlain.
'Of course, you’re quite a grubby right hand', continues the prince, 'with poorly manicured nails and suspicious calluses. But you're all I've got'.
'You are too kind, my lord', says Fecklenburg. 'My advice is that we should buy off our adversaries and end this war'.
Barry-Eylund shakes his head. 'No, sir!' he says decisively. 'You should allow me to fight them again, and kill them all!'
Rupprecht considers this. 'Let's compromise', he replies finally.
'Compromise is good', says the chamberlain.
Rupprecht nods. 'Yes, we'll give them the money and then kill them'.
'Or', says the general. 'let's save ourselves the money and just do the latter?'
'Yes, yes', says Rupprecht, 'that sounds wise'.
Before Fecklenburg can say anything, Barry-Eylund reverses from the chamber, bowing obseqiously. With a surreptitious sly wink to the chamberlain, the general exits before what passes for Rupprecht's intellect can reveiw the outcome of their conversation.

Later, with the audience over and General Barry-Eylund now hurrying with all haste again to join his army, Rupprecht is able to consider turning his attention to some other, more pleasurable, diversions. Steffi, his mistress, awaits him in one of the smaller, and more out of the way, bedrooms of the schloss.

'Well, my dear', says a clearly exhausted prince, 'thank goodness that that unpleasant business is over. What a shock to my system'.
'You mean sacking Barry-Eylund?' asks Steffi, clearly impressed at this sudden and quite surprising bout of manly decisiveness on the part of her princely paramour.
'No', replies Rupprecht, shaking his head. 'I mean having to work. Almost four minutes of hard thinking and decisioning. I most certainly need a lie down'.
'But I thought that you were going to sack Barry-Eylund. I'm quite sure that you said that that was what you intended to do'.
The prince nods. 'I suppose it was my original intention', he admits. 'But then, who would lead my army? I'm a lover not a fighter'.
'You're really more of a sleeper than a lover', says Steffi. 'And a snorer'.
Rupprecht shrugs. 'Anyway, I'm here now. No more work; and I managed to dodge that old woman that keeps trying to follow me'.
'Your wife, my lord', says Steffi. 'That is your wife'.