"Hatplate?"
"Yeah, that's right."
"...Hatplate."
"So?"
"What kind of a name is Hatplate? That's just a portmanteau word, like, like...shoedog, or gunfoot, or...facebook. It sounds stupid."
"It's my name, I was born with it, I've got it, I like it. Deal."
"...Well I just can't take it seriously, I'm sorry."
"Well call me by my first name, then."
"What's that?"
"Marmaduke."
"You've got to be kidding me. Marmaduke? Were your parents sadists or something?"
"I've been told it's an awesome name."
"By who?"
"...People."
"Can I call you 'Duke' or something?"
"No, you can't. My name is Marmaduke. Marmaduke Hatplate. Remember it. Because one day, everyone will be calling their kids Marmaduke, after the founder of the Hatplate Dynasty, and you'll say 'I was there, you know, I knew him, back in the old days, back before he was Marmaduke Hatplate, Space King!'...yeah, remember it."
"...check please!"

It's the far future.
Maggie's long forgotten.
And the Welsh are still mining.