A Royal Culinary Standard

I mounted the wooden barstool to inspect Miew Country's midday provisions, only to encounter an intolerable affront to royal taste: an empty, crinkled wax paper carton lying limp upon the counter, insolent and messy just like Polch! With righteous discipline, I struck it with a ferocious two-pawed pounce, knocking it clean off the surface. Turning to refined affairs, I discovered a thick triangular block of sharp English cheddar resting upon an olive-wood board alongside a polished silver cheese wire. I clamped my front paws onto the wire's wooden toggles and bore down with majestic authority. The wire sliced smoothly through the dense curd, freeing a perfect golden sliver for the crown.