The Avian Auditor

The Duke of Pumblechook, resplendent in a doublet three sizes too small, puffed out his chest before Queen Isolde. "Your Majesty," he boomed, "I present a revolutionary fiscal initiative: the Avian Excrement Levy! A tax on all bird droppings collected within the realm. Think of the fertilizer! The revenue!"

Queen Isolde, a woman whose wit was sharper than any blade in her kingdom, raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Indeed, Duke," she purred, "a truly... ground-breaking proposal. And how, pray tell, do you propose we accurately measure these deposits? Will we dispatch royal surveyors with tiny ladles and even tinier scales to follow pigeons?"

The Duke, momentarily flustered, recovered with a flourish. "Ah, Your Majesty, we shall implement a 'Perch Permit' system! Any landowner with significant bird traffic shall purchase a permit, scaled to the number of trees and rafters on their property!"

"Fascinating," Isolde mused, a faint smile playing on her lips. "So, a farmer with a single, highly productive pigeon could pay more than a baron with an entire, yet constipated, aviary. We are taxing potential, then, rather than actual yield? A bold step into speculative finance, Duke."

Pumblechook, sensing a shift, attempted to pivot. "But the principle, Your Majesty! Every drop contributes to the Royal Coffers!"

"And every drop, Duke," Isolde countered, "also contributes to the cleanliness efforts of our subjects who will now, no doubt, demand compensation for scraping it off their hats. Are we to create a new 'Royal Scrape-Off Bureau'? And what of migratory birds? Will we demand passports from swallows?"

The Duke spluttered. "But... but the sheer volume, Your Majesty!"

"Indeed, Duke," Isolde said, leaning forward. "Which brings me to my final, most pressing concern. If this levy proves too successful, and our subjects, in their zeal to avoid taxation, begin to deter birds, what then becomes of the very droppings upon which our grand revenue scheme relies? Will we be left with nothing but empty perches and even emptier coffers, having taxed away our very resource? Perhaps," she concluded, her eyes twinkling, "we should first develop a Royal Bird-Luring department, to ensure a sustainable tax base."

Pumblechook, deflated, could only manage a faint squeak. Isolde merely smiled. "Next proposal, Duke. And perhaps one that involves fewer migratory audits."