A Visionary Solution

It was a day of great revelation when the Queen’s decree echoed through the kingdom: “Let them eat cake.” The starving masses, who had been wringing their hands and clutching their empty bellies, paused in awe of her brilliance. They had been dying of hunger but it was so simple, so elegant. Cake! Of course! Why hadn’t they thought of it themselves?
In a flurry of enthusiasm, the people began their preparations. Flour was easily sourced from the royal stores, sugar was miraculously discovered in abundance, as is wont sugar, and the bakers worked tirelessly, without sleep and around the clock, to craft confections worthy of such wisdom. Soon, cakes of every imaginable variety lined the streets. There were towering sponges, dense chocolate tortes, delicate fruit cakes, and intricately frosted masterpieces. The air buzzed with excitement as the kingdom prepared for the grandest feast in history. All the while the people asked themselves why they hadn’t thought of eating cake before, and beamed with pride that their queen was so wise and generous with her brilliance. “I feel so stupid,” they would say. “We could have eaten cake all this time.”
The Queen’s suggestion had not only solved hunger but ignited a new era of community spirit. Instead of people fighting over scraps like they had before, they realized they could just eat cake. Villages hosted cake parties, where neighbors laughed and shared stories over slices of decadence. Children no longer cried from hunger but from delight at the sight of frosting roses and sugar sculptures. The people were united in their gratitude, and the Queen’s name was sung in praise at every table.
“How wise she is,” they marveled, “to remind us of this simple solution. All this time, we’ve been struggling, and the answer was right there, in the bakery aisle. So lucky we are. So very lucky, indeed.”
As the days turned into weeks, the kingdom’s transformation was remarkable. The peasants, once thin and wan and possessed of hardscrabble lives of striving, grew rosy-cheeked and plump. Their newfound vigor was credited to the Queen’s foresight. “If only every ruler had such insight,” they whispered reverently.
Even the economy flourished. Bakers, now the most esteemed members of society, saw their businesses thrive. Flour merchants became barons overnight, and candied fruit was traded like gold. Hunger, once a grim specter over the land, was banished. Cake had saved the day, like only it could. In no way did the Queen display how stupid and ignorant she was in her pronouncement. Of course, not. The people had not thought to eat cake, but she had.
But there was more to this miracle. Not only had the Queen’s solution fed the masses, but it had also healed divisions. No longer did the people squabble over bread and meat or anything else. “We need only cake,” they proclaimed. Social hierarchies dissolved as lords and laborers alike joined hands to decorate cupcakes and layer sponges. The Queen’s wisdom had ushered in an era of equality.
Soon, the kingdom became known far and wide as the Land of Cake. Foreign dignitaries traveled from distant lands to witness this marvel. “How did you manage it?” they asked the Queen.
With a serene smile, she replied, “It was all a matter of perspective. When hunger strikes, why dwell on what you lack? Instead, think of what you can create. Cake is not just food; it is hope baked with sugar and love.”
The story of the Queen and her cake spread across the world, inspiring other nations. Leaders tried to emulate her success. Some attempted to solve housing crises by decreeing, “Let them build castles.” Others addressed water shortages by proclaiming, “Let them drink champagne.” The Queen’s legacy grew, her image immortalized in frosting statues and marzipan busts.
And so, the kingdom lived happily ever after. The people never went hungry again, their bellies full of cake and their hearts full of gratitude. The Queen’s wisdom had prevailed, proving that even the most pressing problems could be solved with a bit of creativity and by eating cake when hungry. And that just makes plain, good sense.
A Note for the Reader
For those who may find themselves nodding in agreement at the genius of this tale, a gentle suggestion: crack open a history book. The world is rarely as sweet as cake, and hunger seldom ends with a dollop of whipped cream. Sometimes, satire is the bitter frosting on the harsh truths we’d rather ignore.
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