Featuring:

Tequila (Right): The veteran advisor, stoic, seasoned, slightly offended.

Little Tequila (Left): The original favorite, now dethroned.

New Tequila (Center): The upstart. The usurper. The plush with momentum.

James: King, judge, snack distributor, and chaos incarnate.

—

James entered the living room with the slow, heavy-footed authority of a man who has had it with his staff.

He climbed onto the couch.

He adjusted his mustard shirt like a CEO preparing to fire half the board.

He looked at his three plush advisors.

He sighed. Loudly. Dramatically. Theatrically.

James:

“Council… we have a problem.”

Tequila (Right) stared straight ahead, jaw set, as if bracing for betrayal.

Little Tequila (Left) leaned one millimeter farther left, which James interpreted as sass.

New Tequila sat in the center, smugly plush, radiating “teacher’s pet” energy.

James:

“First of all… I am aware of the rumors.

Yes, I have been holding New Tequila more.

Yes, I have been giving him the first snuggle.

Yes, I have been calling him ‘my baby.’”

Tequila’s imaginary eyebrow twitched.

Little Tequila’s imaginary eyebrow shot into orbit.

New Tequila remained serene, which only made things worse.

James:

“Second order of business: the accusations of favoritism.”

He pointed at Tequila (Right).

James:

“You said—AND I QUOTE—‘This is some nonsense.’”

Tequila did not deny it. Tequila could not deny it. Tequila was stuffed.

James turned to Little Tequila.

James:

“And YOU said—again, quoting—‘I was here FIRST.’”

Little Tequila remained motionless, which James took as confirmation.

He turned to New Tequila.

James:

“And YOU said nothing.

Which is suspicious.”

New Tequila continued to say nothing.

Suspiciously.

James stood, wobbling with righteous fury.

James:

“Third: the snuggle schedule.

It has come to my attention that some of you—Tequila, Little Tequila—feel… neglected.”

He placed a hand on his chest.

James:

“I hear you.

I see you.

I love you.

But also… New Tequila is very soft.”

A gasp echoed through the council (in James’s imagination).

James:

“Therefore, I propose a new decree.”

He climbed onto the arm of the couch like a king ascending a throne made of questionable decisions.

James:

“Henceforth:

– Snuggles shall be distributed EQUALLY.

– No Tequila shall pout without written permission from the crown.

– And favoritism shall be rotated on a weekly basis.”

He softened, just a little.

James:

“And finally… thank you.

For being loyal.

For being fluffy.

For not talking back.

For being the best Tequilas a king could ever ask for.”

He placed a hand on each plush head—Tequila, Little Tequila, and New Tequila.

James:

“Council is adjourned.

Let us feast.

Except Tequila and Little Tequila.

You two are still on probation.”