“When you play checkers, do you say, ‘King me’? Do people ever comment, ‘That Edgar, he’s a prince of a guy’? When you listen to Prince songs, do you tell yourself, ‘He’s good but he’s not a real prince’? When you watch Disney movies, do you admit that all of the princes seem gay? Do you take any responsiblity for that? When Snow White sings ‘Someday my prince will come’ do you giggle? Have you ever said ‘Yaass, Queen’ to your grandmother? Do you think ‘Royal Flush’ sounds like a premium toilet paper? When Leonardo DiCaprio yells ‘I’m the king of the world’ in Titanic, do you always mutter, ‘I don’t think so’? In America, Prince is a popular dog’s name—if someone yelled, ‘Here, Prince! Here, boy!’ would you turn around?”

“Time’s up. Is American cheese redundant? When you sing ‘God Bless America’ do you secretly add, ‘and no other countries’? Is there a reason why all American tourists wear cargo shorts on airplanes, and everywhere else? Does your entire country have a fear of clothing that doesn’t resemble oversize T-shirts, leggings or prewashed blue jeans with stretch? Did your Congress declare using a napkin illegal? Does everyone in the American South share a single pair of ill-fitting dentures? Is the real American dream a recliner with a heated massage function and a built-in beer tap? Was there truly a need for the return of American Idol? Are your nation’s greatest achievements AstroTurf used indoors, water parks with safari adventure themes, and those ride-on scooters that perfectly healthy people use for travelling from the blackjack tables to the slot machines in Las Vegas?”

For a moment I wondered if I should be horribly offended by Edgar’s unjust stereotypes. But he had a point. “Yes,” I replied.

“But why are you laughing?” asked Edgar. “After I’ve just savaged your homeland in the crudest possible manner?”

“I’m laughing because your mouth is covered with Hostess Yodel cake crumbs and cream filling.”

James stepped in instantly, with a premoistened wipe, confiding, “Sometimes we change His Highness’s shirt five times a day.”

“I think we need to walk,” said Edgar. “At least a bit.”

We stood up and headed toward a nearby pond. And while they were silent and maintained a respectful distance, I was acutely conscious of the security guys keeping a protective cordon around us and monitoring all passersby. James had packed up the hamper without a wasted gesture and trailed us by a few yards.

“Does it ever bother you?” I asked. “Or do you not even notice it?”

“What?”

“Your team. The surveillance. The fact that we’re out in nature, and having a great time, but we’re never really alone?”