Larry was conflicted. Was breaking into the unattended Buckingham Palace really worth it? Larry's knuckle stroked lightly against the door handle, slowly turning it downwards. Larry felt his heart beat rapidly within his cucumber self, his palms were sweaty, knees weak, arms were heavy, there was vomit on his sweater already, mom's spaghetti.
Larry slowly walked within the corridor. Much to his surprise, it was also left unattended. "How convenient!" Larry thought, gayly skipping along the length of the corridor.
Soon he is greeted face-to-face with a door, Its gilded doorknobs, glistening in the sunlight, barely peaking through the gaps within the velvet curtains. The fine detailing slowly wearing down after centuries of use. Larry's first instinct was to knock, which inconveniently for him wasn't possible as he has no arms.
He did it anyway because screw logic.
As he gently knocks, the door creaks open. Tip-toeing through the door, he spots something rather unusual, a large bed. "Oh s**t!" Thought Larry, "This is the Queen's bedroom, I gotta get out of here!" Suddenly, lightning strikes, frightening Larry as he tries to escape, the startle causes Larry to stumble, tripping over a corgi, who let out a deafening squeal, awakening the Queen.
"WHO DARES TO TRESPASS, NOT ONLY INTO MY PALACE, BUT INTO MY SLEEP -CHAMBER, THE PLACE WHERE I SLEEP?" Yelled the Queen, quickly reaching for her crown. "Scuse me, madam, but it was I who broke in." Larry said mockingly, putting on an obnoxious British accent, resembling that of a British peasant, clearly feeling suicidal enough in that moment to risk his life.
The Queen slowly raised her eyebrows, anger turning into fascination. Raising her arm behind her head she let out a sheepish laugh. "And who might you be, young lad?"