The King of Slide Shows

I came home a few days ago and just wanted to relax. It was a tough week, and all I could think about was stretching out on the couch and watching the C's game. But Mads, my Norwegian companion, had other ideas.

Upon entering my living room, I noticed the place was black with the only light coming from a slide projector on the other side, where the TV would be. All the furniture had been pushed to the edges and was replaced by folding chairs set in rows and filled with myriad people that I'd never met before. One of them, a cowboy sitting at the back and right in front of me, turned, looked me in the eyes, and shrugged his shoulders. There was a man at the screen singing: I am The King... The King of Slide Shows...

"Mads, can I have a word?"

We went out into the hallway.

"What's up, boss? How you like the show?"

"What the hell is all this?"

"He's The King of Slide Shows. Isn't he grand?"

"No, I want him and everyone else out in two and two."

"No can do, boss."

"What? Why?"

"He's The King of Slide Shows. You don't just kick him out."

"I do."