Homer said, "I'm sold. Boys, I hope you're in physical trim because there's going to be quite a bit of digging for the next few days."
Cliff groaned. "Some Minister of the Treasury," he complained. "They give him a shovel instead of a bankbook."
Everyone laughed.
Bey said, "Well, I suppose we stay here until nightfall."
"Right," Homer said. "Whose turn is it to pull cook duty?"
Isobel said menacingly, "I don't know whose turn it is, but I know I'm going to do the cooking. After that slumgullion Kenny whipped up yesterday, I'm a perpetual volunteer for the job of chef—strictly in self-defense."
"That was a cruel cut," Kenny protested, "however, I hereby relinquish all my rights to cooking for this expedition."
"And me!"
"And me!"
"O.K.," Homer said, "so Isobel is Minister of the Royal Kitchen." He looked at Elmer Allen. "Which reminds me. You're our junior theoretician. Are we a monarchy?"