Send In The Thrones

Rehearsal Dinner:  Kate and William

"And then the two of you are hoisted on chairs above the crowd." 
"Chairs?" asks Kate.
"I meant thrones."
She looks at me, concerned.  "What if they drop us?"
"If they do, we'll sue."
"Who does the hoisting?" asks William.
"Your father, Kate's father, Harry, a few other dudes."
William makes a face.  "Crikey!  What if our conversion to Judaism displeases them and they refuse?"
"Screw 'em.  We  call in a few Buckingham Palace guards to do the hoisting."
"Smashing idea,"says William.
"Shall we dance the hora again, SJG?" asks Kate.
"Yes.  Let's!" I say.
And off we go, circling the palace grounds, singing "Hava Nagila," picking up speed along the way. William gets a little carried away and throws in an extra hop.  Plop goes the future king, right on his tuchas. "Oh bullocks," he says, "I'm such a klutz."
Kate retrieves his yarmulke and puts it back on his head.  "I told you to practice," she says.  "God forbid you should listen to me for once."
I beam with pride.  "You're getting better with the guilt, Kate."
"I've learned from the best, haven't I?" she says.
"You got that right, sistah!" With great effort, I shove William into an upright position.  "You better cool it with the macaroons, mister.  You'll never fit into your morning coat."