Sanitation Sandi,
The Continuing Adventures of Princess Daria
Sandi Griffin adjusted her regulation green toque, outer layer made from the finest Mongolian cashmere with soft breathable Lunar-made liner, to better protect her delicate earlobes from the early winter breeze off Lake Michigan.
The Venusian grocer's eyes widened in fear as she entered the front door of his green cheese shop. She accented her presence with a snow-dislodging stamp of her heavy, steel-toed, gleamingly-polished, endorsed by Princess Daria herself boots after she had stepped off his doormat. Sandi favored him with a haughty stare and curled lip before speaking.
"So, like, we're parked out back for rubbish pickup but, like, you put no cans out in the alley. Only with your cooperation can we keep the Solar System beautiful, sir."
"Business has been slow, Madam Minister Secretary Griffin, after Christmas, Lunar Crater Festival and the Venusian Steam Cloud Races. We generate little waste until the Valentine's Day rush; please you come back next week and we have plenty garbage for you." The Venusian fidgeted with his cravat.
Sandi scowled but softened. "Okay, only because I like your aubergine cravat and how it complements your lavender smoking jacket, you can get by with putting out half a can today. But you don't like want things to pile up, do you?"
She touched a switch hidden in her thick leather gloves causing the theme from Peter Gunn to begin playing softly, seemingly from nowhere. The Venusian's eyes widened further.
"Yes, yes," he scrambled behind his counter chucking things in a waste basket. "We have trash. Please you don't tell his Exaltedly Supreme Grand Imperial Majesty King Charles Ruttheimer the Third the First that we are not doing our part to keep Solar System beautiful."
"King Charles Ruttheimer the Third the First will be alerted only to like your swift cooperation." Sandi assured him. "He will be heartened to learn of his subject's unwavering loyalty as he and Queen Stacy expect the birth of their first prince."
Sandi assessed his garbage collecting fervor and without a by-your-leave pushed past him and out his alley door only calling out behind her, "We will be ready for your trash drop in five minutes, no longer. We have places to go and people from whom to collect."
She smirked at the increased speed of the chucking into waste bins sounds as the alley door closed behind her. She climbed in the passenger seat of the sleek, pink mini garbage truck thankful for its efficient Venusian-steam based heating system. Sandi permitted the driver to snore away until the Venusian wrangled a pastel-green trash can out the backdoor. He kept his eyes down as he hustled back inside.
She prodded her driver. "Chief Dustman Kevin, Kevin. Like, wake up. We can load the can and then we can go. But first I need to inspect it."
Kevin Thompson snorted and blinked. "Oh, yeah, sure, babe."
Then he rubbed his eyes and Chief Dustman Kevin made a concerned face. "Yipe, I mean Madam Minister Secretary Griffin. You should let me do that, sir, uh, ma'am, uh, Madam Minister Secretary, if it's dangerous. Then I can use that cool robot arm to haul the can up and empty it. After I inspect it."
"The Princess Daria would deny it but she has a regrettable soft spot in her heart or head or both to give this oaf a job. Still, he's strong, loyal and obedient. And he looked more than adequately fashionable and attractive on the arm of Head Cosmic Morale Officer Brittany Taylor at the Saturn Rings Ball last week."
Sandi regretted that her usual driver on these runs was ill and she had to take on Chief Dustman Kevin Thompson as a backup. She had considered delaying her schedule but thought it was important for her pickups to be kept to rigid time and task. She knew the Chief Dustman currently in the driver seat knew the protocol and she had to play along with inspecting the future trashy cargo.
"No, no, Kevin. I've been trained in threat identification and like nullification. This vest and jumpsuit are made of impervious Mercurial adamant. My gloves are from the finest Martian three-horned rhinoceros-hide. You plot a course for Paraguay and our final like pickup today. And like, I am your superior; it is not right if I make you take the risks."
As Kevin began almost randomly punching buttons on the navigation system, Sandi got out knowing he would be too occupied to watch her carefully. She wrinkled her nose as she rooted through the trash but was grateful that the Venusian was smart enough to only put in clean, dry waste; she might even compliment him next run. A few moments later she got back into the cab and let Kevin push the buttons to pick up and deposit the bin's contents in the depths of the pink mini garbage hauler.
Kevin was still mashing buttons and staring at a slowly turning world globe display.
"Let's see. Pair-a-guys: p-a-i-r-..."
Sandi sighed and stifled a rebuke. She showed him where Paraguay was and helped him set the course. He was a good driver/pilot for all his faults as a navigator and a few moments later the pink mini garbage truck rose soundlessly off the pavement and tucked in its wheels. Once it cleared the buildings on both sides, Kevin turned it southwards and sped away from the wintry Middle West of the USA.
MADAM MINISTER SECRETARY OF SANITATION AND FASHION SANDI GRIFFIN
Sandi showered and slipped into a slinky black dress. She draped a long knotted string of opalescent Lunar-dust polished Uranian pearls around her neck. She considered her dining partner's perfume preferences; recalled what she had worn at their last after hours non-business meeting and spritzed the second favorite into the air several times. Sandi twirled slowly through the mist after each spray. Several white packages went into a large Luis Vuitton handbag.
With a sense of anticipation but not nervous, Sandi knocked on the door of a palace apartment in the royal living quarters wing of Lawndale High School which had been converted and expanded into the Royal Palace and Official Officiating Offices on Earth of the Great Zippotronian Empire.
"Why in the world did they choose Lawndale of all places for their capital? Daria said Zippotronians were sort of superstitious and 'Maryland' is almost the name of their first Queen. Still, why not Paris or Milan?"
Princess Daria Morgendorffer opened the door and leaned against the frame to allow each woman time to take in the other. A small bare hint of a sincere smile curved Daria's lips and Sandi returned a wider expression of pleasure.
"Madam Minister Secretary of Sanitation and Fashion Sandi, you made it then."
"The Princess Daria, I am so at your service then."
Smiles widened on each face as Sandi sauntered past Daria without asking leave or waiting for permission. The door clicked and locked behind her. She observed Daria's elegantly simple crown resting on a hall tree with favorite pairs of black boots in readiness under it. In her personal quarters, the Princess herself had reverted to her comfortable default of white socks, black pleated skirt, mustard-yellow tee, and green blazer. That the materials now were now made of the finest materials from across the far-flung Zippotronian Empire brought a sense of satisfaction to Sandi.
"Let me give these a good home." Daria said as she accepted the white packages from Sandi. "I see garbage collecting has been good for you judging from your trim, strong figure and gentle tan."
"It keeps me out of, like, trouble."
Daria smacked her own taut tummy. "Curse you, Griffin, you've even inspired me to start working out. That and the fun of running and jumping with Queen Jane Miranda Lane Blum-Deckler in one-sixth G on the Moon."
Daria smirked as she squeezed the packages happily and retired to an inner room. She emerged hands free moments later and gestured to a table for two set with a light supper and two bottles of wine. She smiled appreciatively as Sandi took in the labels.
"Your favorite Bulgarian whites, Madam Minister Secretary, a Dimyat and a Keratsuda."
"I am like so not worthy."
"I think you can work on that."
The two giggled like the barely-out-of-school girls they really were. Daria pulled out the chair for Sandi. Once Daria had seated herself Sandi took her hand.
"Daria, Her Majesty Tiffany's really showing. I can't believe she's not every minute telling me how fat she is."
"Yeah, Jane says at even at seven months she's basically waddling now. And have you heard? Tiffany's got two little Lunar green cheese nippers in her."
"No! Twins?! Queen Jane must be so happy. Babies are so cute when they smile at you."
"Sandi, I don't remember Quinn being at all cute when the 'rents brought her home but, yeah, I have to start practicing my complimentary cooing now so I sound sincere when the time comes. Now tell me about your day. Surely, Kevin said something memorably stupid for starters. And how's Paraguay in early summer? Dad and I might need to call an all staff meeting down there sometime soon."
"Ah, I believe Mr. DeMartino said 'junket' was the proper term. And Queen Quinn not cute? I believe that's treasonous talk, like, even from her sister the Princess and Cousin Daria, Minister of Finance."
"You were paying attention in class? I have to tell Quinn. And no, I got that proposal struck down in committee. Haven't been able to change that 'Cousin' title though; Zippotronians are stuck on some outdated traditions."
Let us draw the curtain on these two, Princess and subject, equals now sitting and conversing before their evening repast, one cynic happily chatting with another, two suspicious, near misanthropes, perhaps different in stations, personalities, outlooks but relaxing with each other and understanding one another quite well.
AN: This was inspired by an alter ego of Sandi Griffin as a trash collector.
