THE CAMERA AND THE CROWN

THE PEASANT PIZZA PARTY

Grayson was staring at his engagement metrics with the intensity of a diamond cutter. "It’s a disaster, Father Thomas! My 'Morning Glow' reel only got five million views. The public thinks I’m 'aloof.' Me! Aloof! I’m the most accessible deity they have!"

"Perhaps, Your Radiance, you should do something... common?" the priest suggested, hiding behind a massive ring light. "The Algorithm is currently favouring 'Relatable Content.' People eating bread, for instance."

Grayson recoiled as if he’d been slapped with a wet fish. "Bread? Like... gluten? In public? Fine. We’ll do a pizza party. But make it 'Royal.' I want the dough tossed by a Michelin-star acrobat and the pepperoni sliced by a laser."

The Guest List (The "30-Second Rule")

Within the hour, the palace courtyard was filled with hand-picked "commoners"—who were actually just off-duty models dressed in beige hoodies to look "poor." Grayson had also invited a famous YouTuber who was known for eating giant piles of food.

Grayson stepped onto the balcony, wearing a custom-made denim jumpsuit that cost $12,000. "Hello, my fellow... humans! I am here to partake in the circular dough-disc ritual with you. Look! I am holding a slice! It is greasy! I am basically one of you!"

He held the pizza slice with a pair of silver tongs.

"Grayson," the YouTuber whispered, "you’re supposed to use your hands. That’s the whole point of being relatable."

Grayson looked at his hands, then at the grease, then back at his hands. "My cuticles are worth more than your entire subscriber count. Guards! Take a photo of me near the pizza, then take this man away. He smells like processed cheese and desperation."

Rihanna’s Pepperoni Prophecy

Rihanna was sitting in the corner of the courtyard, wearing a veil made of mosquito netting. She was meticulously arranging pepperoni slices on the marble floor in the shape of a hexagon.

"The meat circles are talking, Grayson," she droned, her voice echoing strangely. "They say the pizza is a lie. We are all just toppings on a cosmic crust, waiting for the Great Oven in the sky to reach 200°C."

"Rihanna, you’re scaring the 'poor' people," Grayson hissed, stepping over her pepperoni map. "And you’re ruining the 'Relatable' vibe. Can’t you just pretend to be a normal, spoiled child for five minutes?"

"The Great Oven does not care for your 'vibe,' Grayson. It only cares for the crust."

The Barking Truth

Barnaby the dog was currently weaving through the legs of the models, successfully tripping a waiter carrying a tray of sparkling water.

"WOOF! BARK-BARK-WOOF!" ("Look at him! He’s wearing denim! He looks like a high-end car mechanic who’s never seen a wrench in his life. Hey, Kid! You’ve got a smudge of tomato sauce on your chin. Your brand is crumbling!")

Grayson froze. He frantically rubbed his face with a silk napkin. "Is it gone? Barnaby, you mangy snitch! If this ends up on a 'Cringe Comp,' I will have your tail dry-cleaned until it falls off!"

"WOOF." ("Too late. I already tipped off the Daily Mail. The headline is: 'Prince Grayson: Too Posh to Pepperoni?'")

Grayson shrieked, clutching his phone. "Father Thomas! Delete the internet! Delete it all! We’re pivoting to a 'Luxury Skincare' apology video immediately!"

As the "commoners" were ushered out and the YouTuber was banned from the kingdom, Grayson sat on his throne, weeping softly into a slice of $400 wagyu beef.