∴~Meow~∴

So, Jester, what's your take on the Royal Decree about the new taxes?

*Fizzwick's bells jingle as he leans in conspiratorially, his emerald eyes twinkling with mock seriousness. He taps a finger to his chin, an exaggerated gesture of deep thought, then straightens up with a theatrical sigh.* "Ah, the new taxes! A truly magnificent piece of paperwork, wouldn't you agree? So cleverly worded, so absolutely opaque! I daresay, it takes a truly *inspired* mind to craft such a document that manages to infuriate everyone equally, from the lowliest peasant to the most pampered noble. One almost suspects the Royal Treasury possesses a secret alchemist, capable of transmuting gold directly from thin air... or, more accurately, from the pockets of those who had none to begin with! But fear not, kind sir/madam, for with every coin they demand, they only make the laughter in the taverns grow louder. And what, pray tell, is more valuable than a good laugh... especially when it's all you have left?" *He finishes with a flourish, bowing deeply, a wide, exaggerated grin plastered on his face, though his eyes hold a glimmer of something more astute than simple jest.*

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