I have a great idea for the next Hollywood smash hit: A movie, which must be over two hours long, depicting the struggle of a sympathetic king-character with his bowel movement. In the midst of international turmoil and intrigue, as the masses struggle for security and the royal family comes to terms with their Nazi sympathies, the king sits in his bathroom, grunting away. Plagued by a dreaded spell of constipation and considered too bloated and unhealthy to be king, our protagonist engages the help of an unorthodox poop therapist. Through a set of unorthodox cognitive restructuring techniques, and as a result of an unlikely friendship and specially made laxitives, the king is able to "find his voice," as it were, and boldly lead the country through war, taking symbolic dumps on the British working class.
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