“Right you ‘orrible lot! This ‘ere is an important day fer ‘is Royal Rodent ‘ighness (me). I’m going to find me a young lady to woo and you scummy little soldiers are gonna ‘elp.
As you can see I’ve dressed meself in me finest royal outfit. This ‘ere is me Royal Crown ‘anded down to me be me father, King Longpointyfurryface the Seventh.
This ‘ere is me Royal Trident wot ‘e once used to poke out the evil eye of the fearsome black-‘earted ginger menace of the lower garden shed region.
And this ‘ere is me Royal Cloak red from the blood of the thaaaarsand violent vixens that me great grandfather Spindlytail the Mighty slayed in the Great Fox Wars of the Cheeseless Famine Era.
Front and centah, where I can see ya, boys! I’m not going aht there with just any old raggedy bunch!
Not bad. Not bad…
Take that smirk off your face, soldier! I aven’t done wiv yer yet. ‘ow abaht yer shoes, lads? Can I see me face in ’em? You ain’t a real man’s man if yer walkin’ boots ain’t up to scratch, fellas. Look at mine! Ya could eat ya elevenses off that shiny surface.
Me dear old mum would be prahd (Cheesus rest her soul after she was taken from us in that ‘orrible incident with the ‘oover).
Very nice, boys. Very nice. What woman could resist us, eh, eh? She’ll melt like Camembert in me paws!
Now where’s that bleedin’ four-eyed owl oos been teachin’ me ‘ow to talk to ladies? Drosselmeyer! Drosselmeyer! Get your tatty tailfeathers out ‘ere!
No need to look so shocked, blunt beak. This is my wooing ahhhhtfit. Ain’t you ever seen a royal rodent in ‘is finery before? And as for you where are your trousers and what’s that on your back? Are you wearing some kind of truss? What the flippin’ ‘ell ‘ave you got on?!
Well it’s too bloody late to change now. It’ll ‘ave to do. But for next time, you woolly wombat, you’d better ‘ave some bleedin’ pants on!
Right! Into the coach with you all. Drosselmeyer get yer talons out of me robe! Watch where you’re stickin’ that spear! Ooos tail is that? It poked me right in my Royal Eyeball!
There she is, lads. There she is. Brace yerselves for the wooin’. Boys, you distract ‘er with a bit of gentle stabbin’ wiv yer spears. I’m goin’ fer ‘er ‘ead.
That’s it, boys! I’m nearly at ‘er ‘ead… I’m there! I’m there! Let the wooin’ begin!
Drosselmeyer! Drosselmeyer! I can’t remember a bleedin’ word you told me? Wot was that abaht a summer’s day? Oi! Where ‘is ee?! Drosselmeyer, you twit-twooin’ twerp!?
…’wotcha, darlin’. Do ya like cheese? I like cheese. Maybe me and you could go and get some cheese. One evenin’. I know a nice little place that does melted gorgonzola on-
Oh. I see. You’re ‘lactose intolerant’, are ya? Can’t eat dairy. CAN’T EAT DAIRY!?!?
Terrible shame that. Terrible shame…
Is that the time? Blaaaaahdy ‘ell! I’ve got The State Opening of Parmesan in at ‘alf two! ‘ave to be going. Lovely to chat. Sorry abaht the footprints up yer back and that hank of hair I pulled aht on the way up your scalp and that…
Can someone help me down from ‘ere? Boys? Boys? Bleedin’ ‘eck, this is one crowded lady. And I think I pulled a tail muscle climbing up ‘er calf.
It never would ‘ave worked aht. Wot with ‘er being 100 times the size of me an all that. Still laaaaahvley pair ov legs on ‘er though. Went on fer miles..
Allo! I wonder if that Sugarplum Fairy is seein’ anyone. I like red eyes in a girl’s ‘ead. Makes ‘er look classy.”
For less shouting and less mousing but more Nutcracker Knitmare Before Christmas see Knit the City’s Stitched Symphony.