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Bendicks scowled as he peered over the headlines of the morning paper, thoroughly vexed by the ineptitude of the royal family. It seemed like every day there was something newly egregious that they'd done that was beyond all reason, and he felt himself wishing for the millionth time that he was capable of speech. The Windsors themselves were rowing about some dreadful photos that had been published in the Mirror, and Bendicks was heartily sick of them.
"Aren't you the reason that the Mirror published these?" A terribly bored voice asked the Duke of Edinburgh, to Bendicks' shock, it had come from him. He'd heard Beatrice and Eugenie wishing on a star the previous evening, attempting to saddle him with the horror of being able to communicate with his lessers: the human members of the House of Windsor. "They had caught you in an indiscreet clinch with Penny Romsey," he continued, unable to help himself from voicing his thoughts out loud, "you asked them to 'ruin Fergie' to bury it."
Philip stammered. "This isn't funny, Andrew," he sputtered. "I don't know when you learned how to do voices like that, but I know you don't have a talking dog!"
Bendicks rolled his eyes. "He's part of the problem here," he informed Philip, rising from the ornate chair that Eugenie and Beatrice had sat him on and stalking across the table on all four paws, stealing a rasher of bacon from the Queen as he approached her loutish husband. "Everyone's behaviour has been abysmal lately," he informed him, having grown tired of being privy to such behaviour and choices as he attempted to simply live his canine life; siring with every dam under the sun. He swished his tail, vibrating with displeasure. Mumma and Pups had managed to rouse themselves from their stunned stupor and were eyeing him with horror. He paid them little mind.
"Having an affair with the Queen's Equerry while your husband hides a secret love child," Bendicks reminded Anne, recalling how the palace had attempted to cover up the entire affair. He sauntered down the table to where Diana and Charles sat on opposite sides, their brats oblivious to both his presence or the fact that he had been granted the power of speech. "You," he informed Charles, "marrying a teenager that you don't even love because she happened to be a virgin," he eyed Charles' meal with distaste: Bendicks knew soy replacement products when he smelled them. "And you! Allowing William and Harry to become unholy terrors and firing every nanny who disapproves!"
"Lying to the Royal Marines and trying to become an actor," he continued, directing the comment at Edward. "Sticking your head in the sand and refusing to acknowledge these issues until they become absolutely untenable," he reminded the Queen.
He begrudgingly made his way back to his position near the Yorks. Beatrice was rather smug: clearly she was pleased that her wish had come true. "Why on earth did you wish for me to have the power of speech?" He demanded of her. "It is bad enough being the smartest member of the royal household when I don't have the displeasure of communicating directly with them."
"You're so smart, Bendicks," Beatrice cooed, patting him with a sticky hand. "I didn't really think it would work!"
"At least he doesn't think that we've done anything wrong," Pups had the audacity to insist, as if Bendicks didn't have a laundry list of missteps his parents had committed during his four, indeterminably long, years on this earth. "He knows--"
"Most people don't suggest that their wives have an affair!" Bendicks thundered. "This entire mess with the topless photos wouldn't have occurred if you hadn't suggested that stupid holiday!"
"Bendicks," Mumma chided. "That isn't very nice."
"Not very nice? Not very nice?" Bendicks snapped. "I don't think it's too much to ask for everyone in the royal family to occasionally use their brains and attempt to apply logic to half of the decisions you make! Do you enjoy reading these terrible headlines in every single newspaper? No," he decided, drawing in a soothing breath. "Beatrice made a wish that has allowed me the power of speech," he reminded them, glowering at the eldest York Princess, who simply beamed. "I have been amongst you for four years suffering in silence as you make the most confounding decisions known to man, and I have had enough."