[ WP ] Utopian/Dystopian world where everyone is king for a day .

‘ This, ’ declared Paul, throwing himself into the rickety bench, ‘ is the worst. The absolute worst. ’ 
 
 ‘ You said that yesterday, ’ said Howard. ‘ And the day before that. Come to think, mate, you ’ ve said it every single day since the first coronation. ’ He munched nonchalantly on a burger, lumps of mayonnaise dribbling into the cardboard container on his lap. 
 
 ‘ It ’ s true every time, that ’ s why, ’ said Paul. 
 
 ‘ Oh, why ’ s that, then? ’ said Howard. 
 
 ‘ Oh, it ’ s the worst, ’ said Paul. ‘ This new one ’ s off his rocker, I swear. ’ 
 
 ‘ Who is it again? ’ said Howard. ‘ I missed the broadcast at – what was it this time, four in the morning? ’ He gazed at his lap in disappointment and, contemplating the wasted mayonnaise, paused. He sighed, scooped a dollop onto his finger, raised it to his mouth, and licked it clean. 
 
 ‘ Half-past, actually, ’ said Paul. ‘ King Frederick the Sixty-Eighth became king of the bloody world at half-past bloody four in the bloody morning. ’ 
 
 ‘ You sound pleased, ’ said Howard. 
 
 ‘ Have you even – have you even been listening to me? ’ said Paul. ‘ This man is the worst to grace whatever plastic throne they threw together today. ’ 
 
 ‘ Why ’ s that, then? ’ said Howard. He examined his burger and hummed, as though pondering some great question of life. He shrugged and devoured the last of it whole. 
 
 ‘ He just – I can ’ t even believe it, ’ said Paul. ‘ I can ’ t even believe it. Utterly dreadful. A scandal. ’ 
 
 ‘ Isn ’ t it? ’ agreed Howard. 
 
 ‘ Thank you, ’ said Paul. ‘ Thank you. I ’ ve been telling everyone – nobody believes me, nobody. It ’ s like they don ’ t even care! They don ’ t even care. Can you believe that? ’ 
 
 ‘ Fancy that, ’ said Howard. 
 
 ‘ I *know*, ’ said Paul. 
 
 ‘ Since His Highness hasn ’ t impressed you, ’ said Howard. ‘ Who do you think ’ ll be crowned tomorrow? ’ 
 
 ‘ Haven ’ t a clue. Didn ’ t recognise anyone on the list – not a single name. ’ Paul shook his head. ‘ A hundred thousand names and I don ’ t know any of them. ’ 
 
 ‘ A hundred thousand? You read all that? ’ said Howard. 
 
 Paul was bemused. ‘ It ’ s been a hundred thousand for months, Howard. Months. You ’ re telling me this is news to you? Of course I read it – who doesn ’ t? Anyone who ’ s anyone reads the list. You ’ re telling me you don ’ t? ’ 
 
 ‘ Might ’ ve missed it this morning, I suppose, ’ said Howard. He scrunched the cardboard container into a little ball and threw it in the general direction of a bin. The ball bounced off the rim and landed in the grass. ‘ Best get that, ’ he grumbled, and rose to his feet. 
 
 ‘ You what? You missed it? ’ Paul shouted at his back. ‘ For monarch ’ s sake – you – you ’ re just as bad as everyone else. You don ’ t care at all! You ’ re just like them! ’ 
 
 Howard rose from the ground, clutching the cardboard container, and looked at Paul blankly. ‘ Alright, ’ he said. ‘ Look, it ’ s getting on. I ’ d best get back to work. Lunch is over. Sorry mate. ’ 
 
 ‘ Yes, go away! ’ Paul jumped up. ‘ Good riddance – I don ’ t want to speak to you again. ’ 
 
 ‘ We ’ ve been friends for years, Paul, ’ said Howard. ‘ What are you on about? ’ 
 
 ‘ We are friends no longer, ’ said Paul. ‘ I won ’ t stand it. Not from you. Piss off. ’ 
 
 Howard looked at Paul, looked at his flaming cheeks and frothing lips, and frowned. ‘ Alright, ’ he said. ‘ Fine. Goodbye, then. ’ 
 
 And he dropped the cardboard container into the bin and walked away, wiping his hand on his jeans. 

