(Does everyone know what time it is?) Frozen Time
Princess Anna, ever cheerful, entered Elsa's private office bringing with her some ice cream with chocolate topping for her hard working sister. "Want to take a break, Sis?" she asked. "You've been working too hard."
"Huh?" Elsa looked up at the mammoth dessert. "Oh my, Anna, I can't eat all of that."
"We'll share."
"So how is the renovation proceeding?" Elsa asked. The castle's kitchen was being updated to reflect some of the newest cooking ovens and workflow ideas from Europe. A contractor was hired to do the work and he had been at it for several days now.
"So far so good," Anna replied. "He seems to be a good man but Mr. Taylor has this strange need to grunt every time a new kitchen appliance is unpacked. Are you sure he's reliable?"
"Tim came highly recommended," Elsa replied.
At that moment… BOOOOM!
"That came from kitchen!" Elsa exclaimed.
The two sisters arrived at the doorway to the royal kitchen to witness plumes of smoke emanating through the doors. A man in slacks, blue shirt and tie, their contractor, exited from the room. Small fires, warped pots and shattered appliances were briefly visible through the open doorway before it swung shut behind him.
"Mr. Taylor, are you hurt?" Elsa asked of her contractor.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Tim said, "but that new oven sure isn't. I don't know who sold you that thing but you got ripped off."
"Why? What happened?" Elsa had been assured that the cooker they had purchased was of the finest quality in the entire European continent.
"That oven wasn't worth what you paid for it" Tim Taylor complained. "Not enough heat for cooking at the highest setting so I gave it more power!"
"YOU DID WHAT?!" Anna shrieked.
"What did you do?" Elsa asked, terrified.
Tim went on to explain. "Well that thing was only rated for a maximum of fifteen thousand BTU, which is fine if you're going to do nothing but girly cooking. But what you need is a MAN's cooker. So I installed a Binford two thousand PSI air compressor and increased the cooking heat to a more manly one hundred and fifteen thousand BTUs. Now you can braise an entire cow on that thing. ARR ARR ARR!"
"Until it exploded," Anna reminded The Toolman.
"Who knew the gas lines weren't rated for that kind of pressure?"
"Any normal repairman!" Elsa noted bitterly.
"Look, I'll just order another one and have it installed, toot sweet," Tim replied, trying to sound sophisticated.
"Yes, we will be ordering another cooker," Elsa answered, "but next time Al Borland will be installing it."
"Flannel Man? Look, Al is my assistant. He. Assists. Me."
"Not this time. You're services are no longer needed." Elsa showed the contractor the door.
"No longer needed?! But I'm Tim. Tim 'The Toolman' Tay…" SLAM!
Elsa closed the door on the inept installer and asked her sister Anna to make new arrangements for a replacement cooker and replacement contractor.
Anna then commented, "You know, I'm beginning to think that all those accidents on his television show aren't staged."
( Four weeks later)
"It looks wonderful, Al," Elsa gushed.
"Thank you, Your Majesty," the flannel clad Al beamed. "It was a pleasure working for such a gracious and lovely queen. But it wouldn't have been possible without help from the man I consider a true icon in the home improvement arena, Mr. Bob Vila."
"Thanks, Al," Bob replied, "But you did most of the work."
"How are Trudy and the kids?" Elsa asked Mr. Borland.
"They're fine, thanks for asking," Al replied, impressed that a queen of her standing took the time to ask about his wife and family.
"Elsa," Anna called out, holding the phone receiver in her hand. "It's Prince Hans. He has a rec room he needs renovated and wants us to recommend someone."
Elsa couldn't believe the gall Prince Hans Westergaard of the Southern Isles had contacting them after what he attempted during his last visit to Arendelle. "Just hang up on him, Anna. No wait. Let me speak to him."
Anna handed Elsa the phone. "Hans? I have a perfect recommendation for you. Tim 'The Toolman' Taylor. Yes, Tim will make quite an impression. You're welcome. Goodbye." Elsa hung up the phone. "Tim will make in impression, alright, right into a wall."
If you remember Tim Allen's original sitcom Home Improvement this story will make more sense.