THE CAMERA AND THE CROWN

THE LIVING DRONE

Grayson was currently experiencing what he called "The Great Digital Famine." Without his phone, he was forced to look at the world with his actual eyes, and he found the resolution to be incredibly disappointing.

"The trees are too green, Father Thomas," Grayson grumbled, sitting on a stone bench like a fallen emperor. "It’s aggressive. It needs a 'Moody Autumn' filter. And look at my hands! They aren't holding anything! I look like a statue that’s missing its prop!"

"You look like a child, Your Radiance," Father Thomas whispered, filming with a bulky, old-school ritual camera. "It’s very... vintage."

Grayson’s eyes suddenly lit up. "Vintage! That’s it! If I can’t have my phone, I will build my own analog social network. And I’ve found the perfect hardware."

The Recruitment of Barnaby

Grayson marched over to Barnaby, who was busy trying to bite a particularly stubborn bumblebee.

"Barnaby! Stop that. You’re harassing the local pollinators, and that’s a bad look for the estate," Grayson commanded. "I have a proposition for you. You want ham? I want a platform. We’re going to 'collab.'"

"WOOF?" ("I’m listening. But keep in mind, my 'rate' is three slices of Black Forest ham per hour, and I don't do 'exposure' as payment.")

"Deal," Grayson snapped. He pulled out a roll of gold-leaf duct tape he’d smuggled from the craft room. "I’m going to strap this ritual camera to your head. You will be my 'Living Drone.' You’ll follow me around, capturing my raw, 'Digital Exile' aesthetic. We’ll call it The Bark-and-Byte Chronicles."

The "Aesthetic" Revolution

Within minutes, Barnaby was wearing a Go-Pro-style ritual camera strapped to his forehead with a velvet ribbon.

"Okay, Barnaby, now... run past me while I look pensively at this fountain," Grayson directed, striking a pose that was 40% melancholy and 60% lip gloss. "Make it look like a candid shot from a high-end travel magazine."

Barnaby took off at a sprint, but instead of circling Grayson, he saw a squirrel.

"WOOF-WOOF-WOOF!" ("SQUIRREL! FORGET THE BRAND! LETHAL FORCE ENGAGED!")

The camera footage, which was being broadcast to the palace’s internal monitors, became a chaotic blur of grass, sky, Grayson’s screaming face, and the backside of a panicked rodent.

"No! Stay on the subject!" Grayson shouted, chasing the dog. "You’re ruining the framing! This is a cinematic disaster!"

Rihanna’s Silent Cinema

Rihanna appeared from inside a hollowed-out hedge, wearing a crown made of dead twigs. She was holding a small, empty picture frame in front of her face.

"I’ve moved beyond cameras, Grayson," she whispered as he ran past her. "The frame is the only reality. If it isn't in the frame, it doesn't exist. The squirrel is a ghost. You are a hologram. I am a sandwich."

"I don't have time for your performance art, Rihanna!" Grayson yelled over his shoulder. "My drone is malfunctioning! Barnaby! Get back here! That squirrel doesn't even have a blue checkmark!"

"WOOF!" ("The squirrel is a rebel! He’s sticking it to the Man! I’m joining the resistance!")

The Internal Viral Hit

By the time the Queen checked the palace monitors, the entire staff was gathered in the breakroom, howling with laughter. On the screen, the "Living Drone" footage showed Grayson tripping over a garden hose in slow motion, landing face-first in a bed of Azure-colored petunias.

"Look at that," the Queen chuckled, sipping her tea. "He’s finally creating content that people actually want to see. Authentic. Painful. And completely accidental."

Grayson sat up, his face covered in blue pollen. He looked at Barnaby, who was panting happily and licking the camera lens.

"Was that... was that 'Relatable'?" Grayson asked, his voice trembling.

"WOOF." ("It was comedy gold, kid. You’re finally a star. Too bad you’re the punchline.")

Should we move to Chapter Six, where Grayson tries to "sue" the dog for defamation?