Everyone at the table was distracted. Ella was checking that her pencilled eyebrows were even, Telltale was checking his messages, and Buzzbe was sniffing himself. A sudden, thunderous crack made the table jump and lifted the pens, phones, books, and Telltales typewriter clear into the air.

The huge man at the head of the table struggled momentarily to free his hook he had banged into the table while Buzzbe growled, “What was that for!?”

“Yeah?” complained Telltale. “These things are delicate, precision machines.” He caressed the typewriter and poked at a few of the keys experimentally.

“The committee needs to come to order. We are tasked by the King,” said Edgar.

“Tasked to do what, exactly?” asked Ella coolly. “The memo didn’t make sense.”

Edgar took a pen from his breast pocket and hunched over his notepad. It looked tiny compared to his bulk. “We are to decide upon the correct use of the word ”motley” when used in the plural.”

Ella rolled her eyes.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” spluttered Buzzbe. “I thought that was a joke! Who cares?”

“The King, apparently,” rumbled Edgar. “He needs to know the correct usage and spelling for official communique.”

Ella rolled her eyes. Buzzbe made a disgruntled noise in his throat.

Edgar continued. “And I suggest you curb your swearing. Telltale will be taking the minutes of the meeting and since we are to be discussing the King’s English cursing is entirely inappropriate.”

“Fuuuck youuuu!” groaned Buzzbe.

Edgar nodded Telltale. “Shall we begin? Does anyone know what the plural of motley is? As far as I know, the traditional use of the word was an adjective, and therefore does not have a plural. Something could be motlier or be the motliest, but that’s it.”

Buzzbe laid his head down on his arms on the table. “Uhnnn! No plural, meeting adjourned!”

“But now changelings use motley as a noun,” added Ella. “As in: ”I can’t believe Buzzbe’s motley puts up with such an ass.””

“Hardy har har.”

”Tackity tackity tack tak tickity,” said Telltale, fingers flying over the keys. “Why not just motleys?”

Buzzbe brightened up immediately, pointing to the secretary with both hands. “Ah! He’s done it! Meeting adjourned!”

“How do you spell it?” asked Edgar.

Buzzbe brought his hands back to slap them over his eyes and leaned his head back to face the ceiling. “Uhnnnnn.”

“I also think the king would appreciate that there be legitimate English grammatical evidence to support our decision.” He poked the two thick tomes on the table towards Buzzbe and Ella. “I brought a couple of dictionaries.”

Buzzbe snatched his up with a faux smile at Edgar and made an elaborate show of fluttering the pages open, gradually closing in on ‘M’.

Ella rattled her long, red nail down the pages to the tab marked ‘M-N’ and with a quick pinch slammed the book open to ‘Mo’. She stared at Buzzbe and waited.

“Motley,” announced Buzzbe, reading. “Adjective. Very good, Edgar. Gold star for you! Variegated in color; party-colored. Composed of diverse parts.”

“They’ve got your number,” said Ella icily.

“Yeah, you can suck my diverse parts,” Buzzbe retorted. He slammed his finger onto the page. “Noun! A garment of motley cloth. The dress of a professional fool.”

“As I was saying…” stabbed Ella.

Buzzbe nearly jumped from his chair. “Plural: Motleys! L-E-Y-S. Meeti-”

Edgar interrupted him. “The king might want to know what Oxford’s has to say. He does originally come from England and may consider it more of an authority.”

Buzzbe flipped his dictionary closed and stared at the cover of his Webster’s. “What the fuuuu?”

Ella read her entry. “Adjective. Incongruously varied in appearance or character; a motley crew of discontents and zealots. Noun. Usually singlular. An incongruous mixture. Mass noun (historical). the multicoloured costume of a jester; life-size manniquins in full motley.”

There was a short respite of silence as they took in Ella’s pronouncement.

Telltale paused his typing to say, “So, like, one motley, two motley? Assemble all the motley in the Duchy!?’

“No way!” sputtered Buzzbe. “That sounds stupid!”

Buzzbe would never know how close he came to swinging the committee’s vote to pass motley as a mass noun.

“Buzzbe proposes Motleys, M-O-T-L-E-Y-S, as the plural of motley,” said Edgar. “All in favour?”

Ayes all round.

“Meeting adjourned,” said Edgar as he collected his papers together and stowed his pen.

Buzzbe banged his fists down on the table, feeling cheated that his line had been stolen. “So, Ella? How but your discontent and my zealot get together and make the monster with the motley backs?” He licked his lips salaciously.

Ella flicked up her ruby-red polished middle finger.

Buzzbe, in mock surprise and injury, said, “Ella! King’s english please!”

Ella’s first finger flicked up to join the other.