His highness’s dignity permeated the room. Children gawked, men bowed, and women swooned. A certain radiance seemed to eminate from the feline king. That is, until he spoke: “gweetings my subjects! I am yo lod and wuler! May my beneficence wain down upon you.”

In that instant, the spell was broken. Awe was replaced by a communal urge to chant “pss,pss,pss” and to try to rub the erstwhile monarch.