As the ruler of this great nation through sacred birthright, I am entitled by blood and status to a great many luxuries. I speak of unimaginably decadent privileges, off-limits or even unheard of to all but the most elite, such as I, the latest first-born male in a line of rulers that hath ruled for millennia uninterrupted, save an 11-year period in the 1600s. The monarchy was restored and this “lord protector” was summarily beheaded, a fate that awaits thee if thou do not procure for me, your king and better, this tantalizing and elusive item which I desire, nay, require.
A bed? Ha! I am a king, and sleep each night upon a very large bed, which is far larger than needed to support my frame. It is large because I am a king, and I deserve a great deal of space, which is a luxury unto itself. So it is that I enjoy this “king-size” bed.
Behold, now, my velvety robes of purple, this crown upon mine head, and this throne upon which I sit. Also, this scepter. Can you not see, commoner, that I am royalty? I dine at feasts just for me! At any time, I may call for my pipe, my bowl, and my fiddlers three. But I am not in the mood for a large meal, or to smoke a fine blend of tobacco created just for me by the royal tobacconist.
Alas: I require a candy bar of great size!
For my every fancy must be met without delay, I command that you bring unto me, your kind, a large and fanciful portion of a mass-manufactured chocolate product. It must be the same chocolate that is produced and peddled in its smaller, regular, non-king-sized portion, only twice as large.
The only confectionary that is suitable for me, as such, is a “king size” container of candy.
Bring me this lauded treat, a single package that contains an astounding four Cups of Peanut Butter, rather than the customary two. If the peddler has not this in his wares, obtain instead a shimmering bag of gold that holds four Twix bars, far more than the two with which non-kings have no choice but to find satisfying.
Illustration by Andrew Haener
Fetch now this bar of chocolate that would easily serve two or three of my adoring subjects, but which I will eat entirely by mine own self, as is my right and desire as a king to do so!
They are usually located on a rack near the checkout at the local market, on the lower shelf. They must be placed there for king-size candies have a limited audience necessarily, and commoners must avert their gaze from these candy bars reserved for members of the royal family.
A parcel of four Joys of Almond is also acceptable.
Now we come upon the question of cost. I, a king, would pay a ransom for this confectionary, but I have heard tell that the price of this king-size candy is that of a regular candy plus an additional 79 cents. A sizable sum, yes, yet this is of no great matter to I, a king, as I enjoy untold wealth. Also, the price is less than if one were to purchase two regular-size candy bars, whose contents equal that of a single king-size candy. We shall save money for our coffers! It is this wisdom that makes me a good and fair king who is reverentially spoken of across the land.
Now go, thee, go!
…
Ah, you have returned! Present to me, your king, this king size result of your noble mission. Place it in my hands so that I may see and feel this king size candy. What’s this? The words written upon its outermost protective layer promises that the contents contain eight fingers of Kit-Kat! Could this be true? Eight? Goodness. Even a man of kingly appetites cannot and should not consume this much chocolate in one sitting.
My official king’s decree is this: I shall eat half now, and save the other half for a later date, perhaps tomorrow. As per the suggested number of servings of “two” as hath been foretold on the packaging.
Servant! Take the packaging that which is empty and fold it over the remaining Kit-Kat fingers inside so as to limit the exposure their exposure to the air. When you have completed this task, place this crudely but sufficiently wrapped package into the butter compartment of the royal refrigerator.
Make haste!
Illustrations by Andrew Haener. View full-size cover art.