Wednesday, 23 December 2009

Wills Roughs it with the Street People

Prince William has spent a night sleeping rough in an event organised by Brass Monkeys - a charity for the homeless that funds the supply of weatherproof body bags and large cardboard boxes.

William dossed out in a Tog #20 sleeping bag under Blackfriars Bridge in central London last week, looking up at the array of lynched Vatican bankers – left swinging from the girders like morbid Xmas decorations as a warning to other light-fingered gits.

Wills informed a reporter from the Street Urchins Review that he could not "even begin to imagine what it must be like to sleep rough night after night and never have your own warm Royal Palace to go home to at night and cuddle up with Nanny in your four-poster bed.

Clarence House admitted a "small element of security" had remained with the Prince during the night – a fully armed detachment from the Met’s elite CO19 ‘Brazilian Snuffers’ armed response unit plus two squads of 22nd SAS troopers from Regent Park Barracks.

Rumours that helicopters and battle tanks from the Queen’s Own 18th Cannon Fodder Regiment had been deployed to protect the Prince were dismissed as utter nonsense.
A Ministry of Defence spokesman told Pox News the 18th CFR were simply on their scheduled traffic control exercises and manoeuvres around the Blackfriars area.

Prince William told the correspondent from the Silver Spoon Gazette that the experience had deepened his understanding of homelessness.
"Poverty, mental illness, drug and alcohol dependency and family breakdowns cause people to become homeless. Just look at my Mum – she went off to live with some Muslim camel trader chappie so Greek grand-dad Phillip had her murdered.”

Wills was joined by his ginger minger brother Harry and the Brass Monkeys charity's chief executive Marmite Chuckabutty, who said they were almost run over by a road sweeper vehicle until a passing helicopter gunship blasted it with a shit-seeking missile.

Mr Chuckabutty related "For me, it was a scary experience - out of my comfortable bed at Belmarsh Prison and cast into the raw elements on an extremely cold night with temperatures down to -4 C. God, don’t you just hate this global warming thing they switched on in Copenhagen last week.”

"And it was the same for Prince William too. But he was determined to do it in order to raise awareness of the problem and to be able to write to Gordon Brown and tell him what rough sleepers go through night after night when they wake up with frozen haemorrhoids and a blue cock – and all because his Labour government have made a total fuck up of the British economy."

Mr Chuckabutty posted on his charity's website: "We took as much precaution as possible - finding a relatively secluded spot in an alleyway, shielded partly by a row of space heaters and bales of hay.”
"But there was no shielding from the bitter cold and the hard concrete floor, or the fear of being accosted by drug dealers, pimps, transvestite whores or those out to give vagrant homeless scumbags a 'good kicking' just for sport – like the Met’s PCSO’s from Renta-Bully.”

The group slept until 0600 GMT when the princes were taken on a tour of areas where people were sleeping rough in the West End of London had actually become frozen to the pavements, before heading to the Brass Monkeys' Greek Street centre in Soho where they wolfed into a reheated breakfast of pygmy goat kebabs, pizza, garlic bread and spaghetti dug out of a nearby chew n spew fast food joint’s wheelie bin.

Prince Harry, the Royal Cuckoo, told Fux News “It was a spiffing brill’ experience. I met up with this dodgy pikey bloke that’s been on jobseekers allowance and DSS welfare benefits since he left school at 15.”
“He took me down to some DIY place called B & Q where we stocked up on this purple drink called ‘Meths’ – it was great gear and so cheap – and what a buzz off it.”

“Really, it was far better than hanging around Clarence House all night and listening to me Dad talking to the plants while our step-mum Gorgonella’s flat out in front of the telly swilling back cans of Headbanger lager, chain-smoking Tumours full strength and farting every five minutes.”

“It was a real mind-bender – especially the blow job I got off some Albanian pre-op’ tranny for five quid – but I wouldn’t want to sleep rough every night. Thank fuck I wasn’t born a landless peasant.”

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