American Princess

Previously on "American Princess"...

We like our peripheral employees to stay consistent

with proper Elizabethan as best they can.

Huzzah for the tipper.

We'll work on it.

Miss you, bitch.

- How's rehab? - Lexi, she's not in rehab.

- That's just what we're saying. - It's not Amanda's fault that

- that hooker bit off her own tongue. - It might be.

I know you think I'm here to stab you to death,

but the truth is, Amanda, we're square.

My mom paid you off.

Now I can travel the circuit in a tour bus.

Huzzah for the tipper!

- Huzzah! - Huzzah!

It needs work.

Blanchett, Cate Blanchett. No.

Cate Blanchett.

Pray thee. Pray... Pray thee.

Pray thee.

Pray thee tell.

Oh.

Huzzah for the titties.

- Oh! - Good morrow, dear cuz!

Whoo! Oh, whoa. What's that?

This is for Cyril.

Cyril, I made you a scoby-thingy,

and the kombucha is turning out great.

I'd like to think it's because I fermented it in the sun

and not in horse shit.

- Thanks? - You're welcome.

And this is pineapple juice, for your cough.

I know it was a little better last night,

but the natural bromelain in it will nip it in the bud, I swear.

You've totally embraced the spirit of faire-mily!

But I don't have a cough.

Yes, you do.

You were up the last two nights.

That was Lil Boy.

Wh-What?

This little boy slept in our room last night?

- Where else would he sleep? - With his parents?

I'm his parents!

- You have a kid? - You knew about him.

I really truly very much did not.

Really?

Well, this is Lil Boy.

Yes, I can see that he's a little boy.

No, that's his name. Lil Boy.

Until he's old enough to choose his own name.

- Fartbox! - Okay, not old enough yet.

Why don't you check the fridge for Mommy?

This isn't quite cold enough.

He's been sleeping in our room this whole time?

Sometimes. Lulu home-schools the faire brats,

so a lot of times, he crashes with her kids.

Wait, hive parenting.

I read about this in Vanity Fair, I think.

Or a Buzzfeed listicle.

One of the gasket retainer screws is loose.

I need Lee's Allen wrench.

- Okay. - He does seem skilled.

Certainly better here with me

than back home with my crazy parents.

Your parents are strict, too, huh?

My mom made me take French and Mandarin.

Merci for nothing, Chairman Mao.

Evangelical Christians.

I wasn't even allowed to read "The Giving Tree"

when I was a kid, because "If it can give you an apple,

it can touch you in your bathing suit area."

Wow.

Yeah, this is a much better place for him. And you.

And all of us!

- Boobs look great. - Thanks, babe.

It'll hold like this for a bit,

but the gasket needs to be replaced.

Will do. Thanks, kiddo.

All right. Three Wet-Naps, two matchbooks,

and some toothpicks.

Pleasure doing business with you.

- You, too, Fartbox. - Unh-unh. Not Fartbox.

Good advice, man.

Adding more plant-based proteins to my diet.

And I'll keep in mind the spirit of the turkey.

You coming around, baby.

Ah. The showers are all taken?

Yep.

Hey!

Same body wash.

Got to love that Mountain Mist.

Great minds.

Then again, we do differ in our choices

of toothpaste flavor.

What kind of person uses wintergreen?

What can I say? I'm a wintergreen guy.

Well, I also heard that wintergreen

was the flavor...

used by Hitler.

Good morrow, Your Majesty.

You're late.

You missed the Stanislavski warm-up.

Jumping right into mirror.

Thank you, mirror.

Apologies for being late, but I just had

a rather awkward incident.

I ran into Juan Andrés,

you know, the man I sort of like,

in the restroom.

We were in line for the showers.

I, you know, thought I'd strike up a conversation,

but it went poorly.

Five, six, seven, eight.

I made a very bad joke... about Hitler.

- Zip. - Zap.

- Zop. - Zip.

- Zap. - Zop.

I'm sure it was fine.

And lift.

- And scene. - And scene.

How do I show him that I like him?

Invite him over for a Hefeweizen

and a light chapter of "Mein Kampf."

Really, Maggie, I need your help.

Oh, good God, you're obsessed.

What's his profession? Janitor?

He sells handmade wares.

Then show an interest in his art or something.

What time is it, anyway?

I need to Nair my widow's peak before breakfast.

I'm starting to look like Count Chocula.

All right, everybody, listen up.

We got a couple things on the agenda.

There will be no more 25% employee discount on meals purchased

- on the grounds during Faire Days. - What?

- Lee! - What?

Ticket sales dropped opening weekend.

We got to pick up the slack.

So eat less, and it won't affect you.

I can survive on a cup of raw spinach a day.

Okay, moving on. Uh, the Queen's Royal Tea

will now become the Queen's Royal Pub Crawl.

- Oh! - Profit margins are higher with booze.

And, uh, Callie, no more nip slips at the joust.

We had some complaints from the parents.

Actually, no, just the moms. The dads were fine with it.

Free the nipple!

Nips!

No more moms!

All right, let's take this energy outside

and show these people what the faire is about.

Now, how about three cheers for the faire?

- Hip hip... - Huzzah.

- Hip hip... - Huzzah.

- Hip hip... - Huzzah!

Come on, guys! Let's do it!

- Come on, come on, get up. - Yeah!

- All right, everybody. - Let's go, freaks!

All right, everybody,

let's go out there and make some money!

Oh, God.

- Yes, Maggie? - The Queen's Tea is a tradition.

I've led it every Faire Day here since taking on

- the role of Elizabeth. - Uh-huh.

The little girls sit and converse with the Queen.

It is vital to show them how upper-class women behave.

I'm sorry, but we got to pick up cash wherever we can find it.

I will not besmirch the legacy of the great Queen

simply to put a couple of extra shekels in your pocket.

I figured you'd say that, so I am prepared.

"It is said that Elizabeth I

drank at least two pints of ale every day.

In 1593, the royal household went through

approximately 600,000 gallons of ale,"

signed the Internet.

The Queen drank beer, yes,

but in the refined company of her ladies-in-waiting.

She never rubbed elbows with drunken bachelor parties,

nor hairy men in ironic t-shirts.

Your ladies-in-waiting will be there with you,

so it will be completely historically accurate.

Just think of it like a royal girls' night out.

I don't believe in girlfriends.

Bitches be haters.

All done?

Why, thank thee, fine sir.

I should get a dress like that, right?

Your pitcher, m'lords.

Thank you, m'lady. A tip for you.

Just the tip?

Frankly, sir, I'd prefer the whole hog.

Oh!

- Hey, Amanda. - No more free beer, Friar.

- Lee would have my head. - I'm not here for the booze.

Ophelia, the empty kegs got to move.

On it. Friar!

- Listen, can you do me a favor? - Is it sexual?

Because geriatric alcoholics aren't really my type.

No, no, no, what? Listen,

Natasha usually does my show