Before the council could begin, Sir James of the Living Room Kingdom climbed onto his designated leadership cushion with the solemnity of a man twice his age and half his snack supply. He surveyed his advisors — three loyal, questionably qualified, deeply beloved members of the Tequila Order — and nodded as if to say, Yes. These are my people. This is my moment.

To his left sat Main Tequila, the Original, the First of Her Name. Known in royal documents as Big Tequila, Big Puppy, and occasionally “HEY DON’T FALL OFF THE BED AGAIN,” she carried herself with the quiet authority of someone who has seen many councils… and survived all of them.

At the center rested Circle Tequila, a mysterious and powerful figure whose true form (a neck‑warming vibration device) only added to her mystique. She hummed with wisdom. Literally. James considered her his most technologically advanced advisor.

And on the right, wiggling with unearned confidence, was New Puppy — not yet granted the sacred title of Tequila, but already lobbying hard for it. She was soft, she was cuddly, and she had recently been caught elbow‑deep in James’s mac ’n cheese, which James insisted was “part of her training.”

James placed his hands on his hips, inhaled deeply, and addressed his council with the gravity of a toddler who knows he controls the snacks, the bedtime, and the fate of three plush citizens.

“Tequilas,” he declared, “we have much to discuss.”