Clearly, a fairy tale:

Once upon a time, in the Kingdom of Cul-de-Sac: 

A family of two queens and two princesses moved from the Land of Lakes and Cakes to a larger castle in the Culdesac Kingdom.    The princesses would not or could not share a bedroom.    “But what if the new kingdom rejects your family?  Won’t you miss Funkytown and Pride Parades?” their friends cried.   

The Queens persisted, and the journey made.  The new land was different, but the nearby royalty embraced them.  They all sat in their driveways, drinking wine and supervising as the royal children learned to ride their bicycles and play four square.   They fretted over the education of the offspring, and were ultimately pleased with their choices.  Over the years, the families thrived together, and supported one another during times of strife and joy.  They helped with shoveling snow when needed in blizzards, and sharing fireworks and candy for holidays great and small.   

The Queens installed a swimmable moat.  The youth of the Kingdom honed their swimming skills, the Queens threw backyard balls and banquets.   All were welcome.  Mead was consumed.  The kingdom rejoiced, for who doesn’t love a hospitable neighbor with a pool? 

Alas, one of the castles was found to be cursed.  Having no princesses of their own, they were not pleased with the idea of the royal progeny gathering and the cacophony of fun.  Although they were no longer friendly to the Queens, they managed to coexist with little complaint.    

The cursed castle was overtaken by a new family, and the Kingdom prayed that the new royals would partake in the moat and join the community.   Woefully, the curse worsened... 

The new sovereigns were icy to the realm.  They took possession of the castle in the cold of winter--when the snowbanks were high, the moat frozen, few lingered outside.   The Emperor and Empress were haughty—they shunned the kingdom’s offers of support and friendship.   

No matter, thought the community.  We have tried.  Perhaps in the summer, when the moat has thawed and is swimmable, they will emerge and be ready for the diplomacy of the Culdesac Kingdom.   

Spring arrived.  The new children were rarely seen, and did not play outside the house, nor ride their bicycles or mounted steeds.   The moat thawed, and the Queens celebrated as they were wont to do.    

Much to their surprise, after many years of joyous water play without incident, the party was disrupted by the appearance of soldiers from the idyllic police department.  

 “There’s been a complaint of noise” the guards proclaimed, although the sky was not yet dark.  Much of the kingdom was present in the moat, and the community quickly deduced that the curse of the castle had worsened with the new royalty.  They were no longer content to live and let live, nor to speak directly with Queens.  They felt that their new place in the kingdom was to enforce quiet in Culdesac, at all times of the day and night and for any occasion, by enlisting the soldiers.   A ten-year-old's birthday party.  The middle of the afternoon on a national holiday.  A small circle of the adult sovereigns in the screened porch after a day in the moat.  Once, when all the partygoers had retired to their own castles, and the Queens were in their royal pajamas. 

The soldiers were always pleasant, and no citations for noise issued.  They confirmed that there was no excessive commotion, informed the Queens of the grievance, and went about their way.   Their only distress was that the baseless quibble called them from true emergencies.    

The accusations of din worsened, and became frankly ridiculous.  They were no longer limited to gatherings in the moat.  A frigid winter night, which was too cold for anyone to be outside, including musical instruments.   Any time the kingdom was cluttered with royal carriages.   

At first the Queens tracked the complaints, looking for a pattern.  The Queens and Princesses had no desire to offend. Were the guards called more frequently when the visiting royals were differently pigmented?  When the gathering was more diverse?  During the display of rainbow flags?  Should they invite the no-longer-new neighbors again?   

Their fellow royals suggested legal recourse for harassment.  The Queens felt that this was futile, and would be draining both emotionally and financially.  What about retaliation: call the soldiers when the accursed castle occupants mowed hedges or utilized noisy power tools?  Some suggested a crusade to the peers of the Emperor, spreading the news of his campaign against fun.   

However, the Emperor and his family had no peers.  No royal carriages approached the cursed castle.  The household never seemed to vacation; they were always present to persist in their mission of sucking the joy from the kingdom by calling out the soldiers.   Their children had no visits from friends, nor other family.   The offspring rarely spoke to anyone outside the castle, and were almost never seen.  They did not play four square, nor ride bicycles.   

The Emperor and Empress were in truth trolls, imposing their will upon the children.    

Their children may have once had a chance for happiness.  Being raised in the restrictions of the trolls, they grew and left the castle.  They did not bring home friends or lovers.  They did not celebrate with the kingdom. 

The Queens pursued a course of kindness.  They waved and smiled at the trolls.  They did not retaliate nor harbor ill will.  They pitied the children and the trolls for their deep unhappiness.   

Eventually, the trolls drove their children from the castle, and were left to walk the empty halls in their loneliness.  Having befriended no-one in Culdesac Kingdom, they moved on to drain the joy from a new realm.   

There was great celebration in the kingdom of Culdesac.  The soldiers were relieved of their obligations to respond to ridiculous and baseless concerns regarding an excess of fun.    

The kingdom waited with bated breath to see if a new family would break the curse, or if the castle would simply have to be demolished.    In the meantime, they all lived happily ever after.  

Fin