Thursday, 20 May 2010

QE II Tells BBC: “We are not amused”

Once again, the latest and the greatest in scandal-mongering hot gossip from Anarchy Central’s 24/7 Truth & Rumour Mill – with dispatches hand forged and crafted into bespoke satire to tempt the palates of all budding nihilists and career revolutionaries who carry the immortal bloodline of the rebel sons of Belial.

Costas Dorkkunt, a swan-roasting Balkans pikey employed as a DJ with the BBC in the West Midlands, purposely played the ‘God Save the Queen’ national anthem on Monday as he cracked a most ‘politically incorrect’ – and fatal - joke during his Birmingham-based afternoon show – stating – for a bit of a laugh – that the Queen had popped her clogs and gone off to see St Peter and collect her harp and wings – causing conflicting nation-wide outbreaks of both mourning by hug-a-royal types and raucous celebrations around the anti-Monarchist camps.

Flags were hung at half-mast, kiddies sent home from school, and the London stock exchange share index dropped like a Wembley whore’s knickers on Cup Final Day.

Apparently Her Majesty, QE2, only had the news of the outrageous canard brought to her attentions when Prince Charles turned up at Buckingham Palace with his chain-smoking wrinkled horror of a wife Gorgonzilla - plus a pile of suitcases - and started trying out the throne for size.

When questioned by Prince Phillip as to what the hell he was playing at, Charles responded “Well, if Mumsy’s croaked at long last then I’m next in line for the top job – and you can eff’ off to the old folks home as Gorgonzilla and I are moving in once the coronation’s over and done with.”

Unfortunately for the Prince of Wales ‘the Boss’ was swiftly summoned by Phillip relating “Young Charlie’s totally lost it this time – he’s gone one worse than talking to the bleeding house plants and wearing that asinine kike yarmulke Baron Rothshite gave him for Christmas."
"Now the silly twat's got himself perched on your throne and telling everyone you’ve snuffed it and he’s the King. Really, I think that old trout-faced Parker-Bowles woman’s put him up to this bit of mischief. Just watch her Lizzie – she’ll be trying your crown on next.”

The BBC’s chief apologist, Sir Marcus Weaselstein, wearing sackcloth and daubed with ashes, prostrated himself before Her Majesty the following morning, ritually flagellating his scrawny back with the decreed one cubit length of rusty barbed wire.

Weaslestein, while proffering olive branch supplications with the one hand, entreated forgiveness with the other by handing over a short video copy of the offending DJ Dorkkunt being pummelled and beaten to a pulp by the BBC bouncers on hire from Renta-Thug, then thrust and stitched into a sack with a rabid pit bull terrier and two tomcats, and lobbed mercilessly into the fierce rapids of the Fazeley Canal as punishment for his sins.

Official formal apologies aside, rumours abound that Her Majesty, alike Queen Victoria before Her, was not amused.

Allergy warning: This article was written in a known propaganda-infested area and may contain traces of slight exaggeration, modest porkies and mis-spoken references.

Thought for the day: Can anyone really see that bat-eared clot Charlie as the next King?

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