Once upon a time there was a beautiful high class princess.
She was driving in her carriage through Darkest Flyoverstan when she noticed an overweight older gentleman in a caftan. His skin glowed like a nuclear reactor.
She called to her driver to stop the car and had her Personal Assistant and Head Courtier summon the becaftaned gent
"You!," she demanded imperiously. "Do you have any large tattoos about your collarbone?"
"No, your highness. I do not," the man said, grabbing his caftan and curtsying, as he had been brought up by his grandmother to always be polite to his betters, royalty in particular.
"Do you place 'Live Laugh Love' signs in your house or broken appliances on your lawn?"
"No your highness."
"Quick," she said slyly. "Name a brand of bed linens!"
The man thought about the many, many, many threads he'd read on Datalounge about things that were High Class.
"Pratesi!" he gasped, as he was more certain of the correct pronunciation of "Pratesi" than he was of "Frette."
"Very good," the princess said.
Then she turned and addressed her EA.
"This man is clearly meant to be upper class. He was probably kidnapped by low class peasants at birth and raised in a split level house with deep pile carpet from Sears. We must bring him back to the palace with us and restore him to his rightful place. He can assist the Royal Hairdressing Staff and ensure that all of our hairstyles remain Upper Class."
"As you wish, your highness," the EA signed.
"THANK YOU JESUS!!!" the becaftaned gentleman shouted, before catching himself and saying a polite "Thank you. your highness. You beauty s only surpassed by your generosity."
"Much better," he noted. "Don' fret, dearest, it will take several months to shake the bad breeding out of you."