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Ebenezer Blackadder sat by the fireside in the back room of his Moustache Shoppe on the day after Christmas, which most Americans do not know is called Boxing Day in the British Empire. He looked at the Queen’s Royal Seal that he held in his hand. The giant turkey he had eaten the previous had done nothing to satiate the misery he felt at having missed by a hair’s breadth a reward of a barony and fifty thousand pounds for all the sickening good he had done. Ebenezer could not quite understand how one of his descendants would become ruler of the universe by him being bad if he couldn’t even get himself made a baron that way. He rattled his brains over the visions of his ancestors the Spirit of Christmas had shown him. There was something to their plots that he had yet to grasp. Something beyond cleverness, beyond craftiness, something… Well, he couldn’t think of it at the moment.
At that moment Baldrick walked in.
“Well, what seems to be the bother, Mister B,” Baldrick asked.
“I’m still in disbelief that I let a chance to leave the low station that I have spent my entire life in for a higher one of wealth, power, and morally loose women,” Ebenezer answered, irritated.
“The Queen would have probably given it to you if hadn’t insulted her,” Baldrick responded as if it had taken an entire day of mental gymnastics to come to this conclusion. In fact, it did take him all the previous day to come to that conclusion.
“Humbug!” Ebenezer replied. Baldrick held out his hand. “I don’t mean the treat, Baldrick,” he explained, still irritated. “Someone should insult the Queen. Everyone just says to her ‘Oh, yes, Your Majesty’, ‘Of course, Your Majesty’, ‘May you please bend over while we pucker-up, Your Majesty,’ while ignoring the obvious flaws that I pointed out yesterday. It is a lucky man who gets to insult a queen. In the days of Queen Elizabeth, you could get your head chopped off for upsetting the Queen in any way, even by neglecting to get the Queen a Christmas present after she cancels it and then just as quickly reinstating it.”
“Well, ‘tis good she’s not Queen anymore,” Baldrick stated obviously. “Still, she might give you a second chance if you went back to being good like you used to.” It had also taken Baldrick the previous day to come to this conclusion as well. It was quite the productive day for his simple mind.
At this, Ebenezer turned to look at Baldrick.
“Go back to being good?” Ebenezer questioned incredulously and then he stood up. “Oh, yes, I would certainly do that.” He began to walk around the room. “Go back to being guilt-tripped into buying overpriced refuse from an old bint whose massive offspring masquerades as an invalid.” He gesticulated madly as he spoke. “Go back to buying special Christmas twigs. Go back to looking after a god-daughter whose screeching laughter can shatter every storefront, window, spectacle, and glass eye from here to Glasgow! Go back to giving my last penny to a gin-drinking street child! Go back to feeding corpulent orphans who continually run the risk of bursting and showering those in the vicinity with two dozen semi-digested pies! Go back to being walked on by so many people that the doormats are envious! Humbug, that’s the last thing I’ll do! The day I go back to being good is the day I’ve gone mad!”
A wave of understanding suddenly washed over Ebenezer’s face. He now knew exactly what his ancestors would have done. He knew exactly what he had to do.
“Baldrick,” he began, “I believe I have… a cunning plan!”
“Well, baste my tangerines, Mister B,” Baldrick replied joyfully. “I reckon that’s the first cunning plan you’ve ever had and I recognize the look on you face because that’s the same face I get whenever I have a cunning plan.”
“Baldrick, your cunning plans are as cunning as giraffe in dark sunglasses trying to get into a polar bears only golf club only to be then appointed Professor of Oh-We-Think-We’re-So-Cunning at Cambridge University, by far England’s least cunning school,” Ebenezer returned. “Now here’s my cunning plan.”
Then Ebenezer explained to him his plan.
At Buckingham Palace, Queen Victoria and the Prince Consort Albert sat upon their thrones in the palace’s throne room. The servant who carried a chair behind the Queen was standing off to the side with the chair and before them stood the palace’s major domo, Kevin Darling, dressed in his frock coat and tie.
“I just don’t know what to do with the barony and fifty thousand pounds, Darling,” declared Queen Victoria self-importantly. “I have to give them to someone.”
“Vell, I think…” began Prince Albert in his outrageous accent.
“Not you, wiener schnitzel . I was talking to that Darling,” the Queen explained as she pointed to Darling.
“Oh, yez,” the Prince spoke in realization, “Your name iz Darling.”
Darling’s right eye twitched from the constant mention of his name. Darling spoke.
“Well, if Your Majesty would allow it, I think you should be given to someone who has been your most trusted and faithful servant for the past several years,” Darling suggested, implicitly referring to himself.
“You’re right,” the Queen responded. Darling grew hopeful. “Chiswick,” she addressed the servant who carried her chair. “Would you like a barony and fifty thousand pounds?”
Darling deflated like a balloon that just got pricked.
“I am greatly honored, Your Majesty,” replied Chiswick the chair carrier, “But I am much satisfied with my duty carrying this chair behind you.”
“Oh well, I’m sure I’ll come up with someone to give them to,” the Queen stated. “Maybe I’ll give them to Lord Melchett or maybe the Bishop of Bath and Wells.”
“You mean the Baby-Eating Bishop of Bath and Vellz?” asked Prince Albert.
“Oh, my little knackwurst, it’s not true what some people say.” The Queen thought for a moment. “I’m almost certain of it,” added the Queen a tad uncertain.
Darling grew tired of being ignored like this. Luckily, another servant came to see him to prevent him from being ignored further.
“Major Domo Darling,” the servant began, “There’s a man here who wishes to speak with the Queen.”
“Well, I better go see what he wants,” Darling said, a bit annoyed.
Outside in the throne room’s antechamber, Baldrick stood with Ebenezer, who was holding two pencils and a pair of underpants in this hand.
“Now remember,” Ebenezer explained to Baldrick, “When you see the Queen, you will explain my behavior yesterday to her and then come out to bring me before her. I’ll be in the hall just outside this room. Understand?”
Baldrick thought for a while with a blank expression on his face.
“Yes, Mister B,” Baldrick responded.
“Good. Remember, offer an explanation, and then come to get me. Okay,” Ebenezer explained once more.
“Okay,” Baldrick repeated.
“Excellent,” Ebenezer asserted. He heard someone coming. “I better be off. Remember the plan, Baldrick.”
Baldrick nodded in response and Ebenezer walked into the hall outside the antechamber. The doors to the throne room opened and Kevin Darling came out and approached Baldrick.
“I am Major Domo Darling. What is it that you want?” Darling greeted Baldrick on the razor’s edge between respectfulness and rudeness.
“I’m very flattered Major Domo, but you don’t have to call me darling,” Baldrick replied.
Darling’s right eye twitched.
“No, my name is Darling! Kevin Darling! Major Domo is my title!” explained Darling irritated as if he had had to explain this to slow-witted servants many times before. “Now, what do you want?” Darling bellowed.
Baldrick once again thought for a while with a blank expression on his face. Darling grew impatient.
“Oh right, I am the servant of the man the Queen offered a barony and fifty thousand pounds yesterday, come to offer an explanation for my master’s behavior,” Baldrick recited as if it had been repeated to him over and over and over and over and over again, as that’s how many times something must be repeated for Baldrick to remember it. He presented Darling the Royal Seal the Queen had left the day before. “I have the Royal Seal the Queen left us.”
Darling examined the seal and nodded slightly as he confirmed its legitimacy. He thought for a moment.
“Yes, I’ll see what I can do,” Darling answered him and then returned to the Queen’s throne room.
“Your Majesty,” Darling began once he was before the Queen once more, “the servant of the man whom you offered a barony and fifty thousand pounds to yesterday has come to offer an explanation for his master’s behavior.”
“There is nothing he can possibly explain that can excuse such rudeness!” Queen Victoria declared indignantly. “But I want to turn him down to his face so let him in.”
Darling opened the door to the throne room and in walked in Baldrick.
“Ah, yes, I remember you,” the Queen stated sweetly, “the little hobgoblin. Now state your case.”
Baldrick stood before the Queen, while Darling stood off to the side.
“See, Your Majesty, I have come to explain my master Ebenezer Blackadder’s behavior to you, yesterday, December 25th, Year of our Lord eighteen hundred… something,” Baldrick explained, or more or less recited after it had been repeated to him over and over, et cetera, et cetera.
“Yes, we know that already,” replied the Queen. “Now offer your explanation.”
“Oh right,” Baldrick remembered and then continued. “You see, Your Majesty, my master is stark, raving mad.”
“Really?” responded the Queen, almost convinced by this explanation. “Can you prove it?”
“Yes, I can show him to you,” replied Baldrick as if it had been repeated to him et cetera, et cetera. Baldrick then left the throne room but swiftly returned, leading Ebenezer Blackadder by his hand. Ebenezer was wearing the pair of underpants on his head and had the two pencils stuck up his nose, one in each nostril.
“Well, he certainly looks mad,” the Queen offered. “No sane name would wear underpants on his head and stick pencils up his nose.”
Darling surreptitiously rolled his eyes.
“He’s obviously faking, Your Majesty,” Darling retorted.
The Queen looked down at Ebenezer in confusion. “Well, how are we going to discern if he truly is mad like the little hobgoblin says?”
“Simple, I’ll just ask him a few questions to make sure that he truly is mad,” declared Darling. He walked up to Ebenezer. “Now, what is your name?”
“Wooble,” answered Ebenezer.
“What is two plus two?” asked Darling.
“Oh, wooble wooble,” responded Ebenezer.
“Where do you live?” Darling asked further.
“London,” replied Ebenezer.
“Ah-ha!” Darling declared proud that his interrogation skills had unearthed the truth that Ebenezer was feigning his madness.
“A small village on Mars, just outside the capital city, Wooble,” Ebenezer insanely explained.
A look of aggravation came across the Darling’s face.
“Well, you truly are mad then,” the Queen declared.
“I'm afraid not, Empress Oink; I'm just off to Hartleypool to buy some exploding trousers,” Ebenezer added insanely.
“Of course you’re mad,” the Queen argued. “None of what you said makes any sense.”
“Yes, Queen, I am. Cluck, cluck, gibber, gibber, my old man's a mushroom, et cetera. Beep,” Ebenezer once again added insanely.
“I’m afraid, Your Majesty,” Baldrick added, “that you met him on two of his better days. Most of the time he bounces about the shop like this, muttering gobbledygook.”
“Well, despite what I said before,” The Queen began to declare, “I have reversed my decision. I have accepted your explanation of madness as a valid excuse and will reward Mr. Blackadder the barony and fifty thousand pounds as I originally intended.”
Darling protested, still hoping he could convince the Queen to give him the barony and fifty thousand pounds.
“Your Majesty,” Darling began, “You cannot seriously be considering giving a barony and fifty thousand pounds to a madman.” He gave Blackadder an accusatory glance. “Or rather an alleged madman.”
“Well, why not,” the Queen asked rhetorically. “My royal predecessor George III was as nutty as a Christmas fruitcake, and he was King of all England. What harm would giving one small barony to a madman do? Besides does not the sight of this man fill you with pity,” she explained to Darling. “Look at him. He has no idea what’s going on right now.”
“Beep!” Ebenezer interjected insanely.
“So, I will give him the reward I intended to give him and the title of Baron Blackadder,” the Queen declared officially. “You would like that now wouldn’t you,” she added to Ebenezer as if she were addressing a small child.
“Yes, I would indeed,” Ebenezer responded, no longer insanely. He removed the underpants from his head and the pencils from his nose. “Except one thing, it has come to my attention that some of my ancestors were linked to the Royal Family in years previous.”
“Were they now,” the Queen replied, not noticing that Ebenezer no longer acted like a madman. Darling eyed him suspiciously though.
“Yes, and they were all named ‘Edmund’. So I thought Edmund would make a more appropriate regnal name.”
“Alright then,” the Queen agreed. “Then you shall be known as Baron Edmund Blackadder.”
The newly instated Baron Edmund Blackadder bowed.
“I give you the greatest thanks, Empress Oink,” Edmund stated. “Oh, I beg your pardon, Your Majesty,” Edmund apologized smoothly.
“Oh, it’s quite alright,” the Queen responded.
And with that, Baron Edmund Blackadder, formerly Moustache Shoppe proprietor Ebenezer Blackadder, successfully enacted his first cunning plan.
The newly minted Baron Edmund Blackadder stood in the antechamber with Baldrick. The doors to the throne room opened and out walked Kevin Darling. Blackadder turned to address him.
“Ah it’s you again,” Edmund greeted with faux politeness. “What was your name? Darling?”
Darling’s eye twitched.
“That’s Major Domo Darling to you,” Darling corrected him. “You may have fooled the Queen, but you haven’t fooled me.”
“Well yes, but the Queen is only one it matters to fool,” Edmund explained “Not pen-pushing, desk-sucking blotter jotters such as yourself.”
Darling was undaunted by such insults.
“Mark my words, Blackadder,” Darling began dramatically, “The day will come when I will expose you for the horrid little man you are. And if not I, my children. And if not them, their children.”
“Yes, we’ll see about that, Darling,” Edmund replied smoothly. He turned to Baldrick. “Come Baldrick.” Edmund and Baldrick walked away.
And so that day began a rivalry that would only end with Captain Edmund Blackadder and Captain Kevin Darling going over the top in the trenches of the Great War.