Michael Cargill

Regular updates of sarcastic and irreverent nonsense.

Tag Archives: prince charles

Queen Elizabeth II replaced with robot clone

Ironqueen-robot

Scandal has yet again struck Buckingham Palace with the news that Britain’s most famous OAP has been replaced with a “Ghastly robotic clone that is nonetheless jolly convincing.” Suspicions about Her Maj. were first raised a few weeks ago when she “Suddenly started winning the arm-wrestling competitions,” and developed a “new-found affection for cannonballs and motor oil.”

Prince Philip said he first noticed that something was up “When I first overheard her flirting with the cutlery.” Maintenance engineers were initially surprised when she started asking questions about the Palace showers. “She seemed really fascinated about whether we were in a soft water or a hard water area and what effect that might have on metal exo-skeletons. I thought that Wolverine from the X-Men might be coming to stay but it all makes sense now.”

Truth

Robert Willow of The Royals Are Aliens Society has said that “This is further proof that we’re under attack,” and it is yet another example of the monarchy being behind the times after it was discovered that “Some of the flowers at the Golden Jubilee were made of plastic.”

Security has been ramped up at the Palace and the paranoia means that “The occasional false alarm is raised.” One nervous maid passed out with shock when “I saw a tall, skinny zombie with a droopy face making strange noises in one of the bedrooms.” Everyone was evacuated and Scotland Yard performed a full sweep of the area.

“Turns out it was just Prince Charles stepping out of the shower.”

Princess Diana speaks from heaven

princess-dianaHello there Earthlings, it’s the former Queen of Hearts here. First of all, can I just say that if anyone calls me Di, Diana, or uses any of my previous names and titles from my mortal era, I’ll be waiting for you at the Pearly Gates when you finally cop it. Although me and St. Peter got off to a rocky start we’ve become good pals so just watch your mouths now that I’ve got the head bouncer’s phone number – he lets me out for a cheeky fag and I let him fondle my tiara on the way back in. He gets all the good gossip and he has such a nice bum too! Anyway, just drop all the soppy names that the shitrag journalists thought up after they chased me down that French tunnel and everything will be just peachy. I tell you something though… those journos with their cocaine parties and witty headlines think they are the smartest people in the world, but boy have they got a shock coming to them when they come up here.

Initially life was tough up here in the sky with the big, invisible man constantly talking to me from under my bed. I tried to set up a charity dedicated to landmine victims so I could condescendingly pat them on the head before retiring back to my trailer for a white wine spritzer and a spray of Christian Dior; unfortunately, poverty and war don’t exist up here so I had to reinvent myself like that Spice Girl with the massive tits did when her career went to shit.

Money and time are practically infinite up here which is a damn good job because that £17 million divorce settlement is still holed up in some bank vault – I even went and forgot me bleedin’ PIN number as well! Sometimes I am such a ditzy!

No doubt you’ve all got a hundred questions for me… does Dodi look buff when stepping out of the shower… how many cotton buds Charlie needed to clean out those big ugly ears of his… and just what happened that night in Paris…? Well, as much as I would love to answer these questions I’m afraid that our time is getting short and I can already feel myself fading away.
Actually that’s bollocks. St Peter is making ‘honk honk’ signals with his hands again – it’s chinwag and fag time again, yippee!

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