The scene; Paris in 1095, the court of King Philip the First of France. The court is abuzz as they await the return of the King’s delegates to the International Commission for Allocating Nicknames to Early Medieval Rulers*.
Finally, the courtiers are led into the royal presence.
Philip: “Well, how’d it go boys? What nickname did they come up for me?”
Courtiers: general shuffling of feet and clearing of throats.
Philip: “Boy, I can’t wait. I wonder what it will be. Philip the Fair? Philip the Wise? Philip the Magnificent?”
Courtier 1: “Well, umm.”
Courtier 2: “The thing is…”
Courtier 3: “Err…they decided on Philip the Fat.”
Philip: “What!? You’re fuckin’ shitting me! Philip the Fat, what sort of fuckin’ nickname is that?”
Courtier 1: “We argued with them Phil, but they just wouldn’t listen to reason.”
Philip: “Philip the Fat! Jesus! I’ve been working out, I’m buff. I have big bones.”
Courtier 3: “Maybe if you cut down on the carbs…”
Philip: “Fuck off, the pack of you! Get out of my sight, you fuckin’ knuckle-heads, before I boil you in oil. And don’t call me Phil!”
Courtiers shuffle out.
Philip: “Philip the Fat, Christ! Wait till Sven Fork-Beard hears about this, he’ll piss himself.”
*Possibly may not have existed**.
** He was called Philip the Fat, though.