A man and a woman descended the gangway of Atlantis: in a 
floral dress that explored the labile frontier between modesty and summer 
comfort, accessorized with a matching parasol, Queen Victoria II of Atlantis. 
In a natty beige linen suit, her husband, the Prince Consort, whose name, 
lamentably, was Joe. Joe, or Joseph as he was called in official circumstances, 
stepped down first, moving in a somewhat pompous one-small-step-for-man gait, 
then turned to face Her Majesty and offered his hand, which she accepted 
graciously but perfunctorily, as if to remind everyone that she'd done crew at 
Oxford and had blown off tension during her studies at Stanford B-School 
with lap-swimming, rollerblading, and jeet kune do. Lord Finkle-McGraw bowed as 
the royal
espadrilles touched down. She extended her hand, and he kissed it, which was 
racy but allowed if you were old and stylish, like Alexander Chung-Sik 
Finkle-McGraw.