The Queen's Lament.

"I care not for the follies of Maraschino Cherry," murmurs the Queen, gazing with pale, tired eyes from her bedroom oeil-de-boeuf, in these fading twilights of the Ice Cream Empire. "Though he prance gaily on the parapet, I find his antics tiresome, and wish he would retire to garnish in Cocktailia. His brash flavours no longer belong here. We are a tired empire, and wish to pass into myth in the company of only a decorated few. Peanut Butter. Mz. Chocolate Shell. Cool Whipped Cream. I simply wish Maraschino Cherry, despite all his finery, would leave this realm forever."