Kate Makes Kid’s Fantasy Come True

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.

The Libservative Coalition’s Prime Minister, Austerity Dave Scameron, following the 2010 election, notoriously tried - and spectacularly failed - with his ‘Hug-a-Hoodie’ campaign – a desperate attempt aimed at establishing a one-on-one Big Society connection with the country’s disaffected youth which turned into a skewed tosspot scheme that has, two and a half years down the road and a legion of socio-political disappointments later - manifested into the polar opposite mantra of ‘Bash-a-Scally’.

Hence it must be a right smack in the proverbial ego for Posh Dave when Princess Katie Middleclass took a trip up to Geordieland yesterday and had flocks of teenage hoodies queuing to go down on their bended knees in obeisant fashion to petition for a wee hug from the iconic ‘Mrs Wills’.

The royal visit is Kate’s first official trip to the grim North East, a semi-civilised province of Britain that abuts the wilds of Scotland and where a form of colloquial English is muttered through the cleft palates of the inbred mongrel population when ordering pints of Newkie Brown - or insulting tartan-kilted Jocks on a south-of-the-border excursion to steal manhole covers, gulley gratings and the hapless RattleTrack’s overhead power cables.

Kate looked relaxed and poised as she stepped from a Stagecoach double decker bus and was greeted by the Lord Mayor, Councillor Frank ‘Pitbull’ Nosdork, a former licensed cormorant strangler, then went to meet crowds of shivering peasants outside Newcastle’s Civic Centre, enraptured by the comments of “Like yer thrifty chic Oxfam coat – that looks nice an’ warm” and “Got a spare cardigan wiv yer by any chance?” – before engaging a legion of school children who’d wagged classes that morning just to catch a glimpse of a real fairy tale Princess – with jail bait pubescent girls handing their copies of E.L. James ‘50 Shades of Grey’ soft porn novel for Kate to autograph.

However the luckiest lad in Newcastle was 10-year old Ronnie McScrote, for as Kate and Mayor Nosdork, accompanied by a procession of sycophantic hangers-on and local council jobsworths, walked down the street, he threw up his arms and, with intrepid determination, fearlessly reached through the electrified razor wire fence for a cuddle – a heart-rendering entreaty to which the obliging Princess willingly responded – regardless of her hair standing on end or the blood streaming from the myriad cuts on Ronnie’s arms.

A resident of Newcastle’s Shit-or-Bust council housing estate, the hoodie-clad Ronnie confided to Kate he’d played truant from his Scattford Asbo Central Academy school that day just to see her – on the off chance she was topless under her coat - and had vowed to himself in the shaving mirror that morning to get a hug from the Princess and maybe even a passionate kiss if his luck was in – a wish Katie fulfilled as their lips and tongues enjoined in a deep embrace and the crowds cheered “Nice one Ronnie!”

Following his ‘close encounter’ the blush-faced McScrote informed salivating press hacks “No shit, that canny lass’s got skin softer than a baby’s arse. I’ve had a hard on fer the wench since I saw her tits online in that French news mag’ – an’ it must have bin a bit chilly round the pool that day cos her nipples were stuck out like organ stops – an’ today’s she’s made my masturbation fantasy come true. What a lucky twat that Prince William bloke is.”

After joining a group of street people (homeless twats) at the Salvation Army hostel for a light lunch of yesterday’s warm-up Pan Haggerty and Singin’ Hinnies, washed down with cans of McEwans Vintage Export Meths, Kate was shown around a community garden and helped plant some marijuana seeds before continuing through the park where she was greeted by mobs of snotty-nosed children and members of the common herd who waved flags and cheered in unison: “We love you Princess Di” – while passing her gifts, including pawn tickets, reefers, tampax, little blue Viagra tablets and Black Mamba ribbed condoms – with scores prostrated on the ground so Kate could wipe the dogshit off her shoes on their worthless torsos - and asking her to bless their proffered Euro Lotto tickets – then crossing their chests and giving thanks to St Katie of the Middleclass.

Thought for the day: Aye, the People’s Princess she is becoming. Let’s just hope she doesn’t evolve too much of a socio-political conscience like her deceased mother-in-law and get a hankering for justice and banning land mines – or screwing Muslim costermongers.
Doubtful she will succumb to the temptations of the latter, for Wills is his mother’s son and not into plant whispering eccentricities like his bat-eared clot of a father Prince Chazzer.

Allergy warning: This article was written in a known propaganda-infested area and may contain traces of slight exaggeration, modest porkies, misaligned references and lashings of bush telegraph innuendo.

Rusty’s Skewed News Views (Purveyors of Bespoke Satire) - enhanced with a modest touch of Yeast Logic and a piquant dash of Political Incorrectness: a news sheet and media source not owned by Rupert Murdoch and the Masonic Zionist kikester lobby, committed to the relay of open source information – and immune from litigation under the statutes of the ‘Fair Comment in the Public Interest’ defence.