King ob Thursdays

We’ve made it. Bonjour, Paris!

After a long flight, a questionable in-flight snack (Fish brought his own cheese, obviously), and one suitcase mix-up (Barry accidentally grabbed a bag full ob scarves), we officially touched down.

I posed nobly at the airport—because even wiff jet lag, royalty habs standards. My crown survived customs, Barry’s bear Batman made it fru security unscathed, and Fish immediately began sniffing the air for pastries. He claims he can “smell butter content from 40 yards.”

We’re all a little bleary-eyed and in desperate need ob a nap, ideally one involving a fluffy pillow and blackout curtains. Fish has already crawled into his travel pouch and mumbled somefing about “dreaming ob croissants.” Barry is trying to nap on top ob his suitcase, and I’be claimed a spot under the desk near the heater vent.

Next up: finding Reuben, flaky crusts, and answers about these mysterious snacks Dougie keeps whispering about.

But first… zzzzzzz.

—King ob Thursdays
Ruler of Terminal B and Keeper of the Royal Nap