King: "Larry, listen up for a sec."
Vanvitelli: "Sire? Sock it to me."
King: "I figure this new Caserta Palace is going to need about one zillion gallons of water per second. So --here, help me unfold the chart-- maybe we need a little waterway. Check Home Depot; I think it's open on weekends. All you have to do is start up here, right between the first two S's in Mississippi and bring it through this mountain, pop it across this valley, then through this other mountain and bring it out right here above the fountains of the palace. I make it about 40 km (although the French have not yet invented the metric system. I am farseeing, as you can far-see!) and Bob's your uncle, you're in! How about about it, Larry, can you do that for me?"
Vanvitelli: "Consider it done, sire." (Luigi is heard to murmur as he exits, aiming for stage left but falling into the orchestra pit...'Are you KIDDING ME?! I should have been a great painter like my old man. No, I had to be a great architect. And who is this uncle Roberto he speaks of? I have no uncle Roberto.')
King: "Duke, my noble underling -- rise and shine! Get your gear. Get mine, too, while you're at it. We're off to stalk the wild fasano!"
Duke: "Fagiano, sire?"
King: "That's what I said--fasano. Are you deaf?"
Duke: "No, sire. We shall stalk the fasano!" (Duke is heard to murmur as he walks straight into a cross-fire from his own underlings who are taking pot-shots at pigeons, 'Gesù, when is this guy going to learn some Italian?')