Grumpy Bastard on the Royals
Someone once told me that bad news come in threes. That person, like all people, was almost definitely wrong: there is no limit on the number of bad things that can happen at once. As an example, this week featured an announcement that the Brexit negotiations will be extended, that a Saudi journalist was killed and two Royal announcements. One can only admire the media obedience as they desperately chased any shred of story about our scaly overlords. At this point the only image that adequately represents the British media would be a man with his testicles nailed to his forehead as the Queen belabours him about the face with a cricket bat, demanding to know whether he put in at least a page about Diana. Fuck.
In case you didn’t know, the Royals are lizards.
How the fuck did it come to this? At this point in time we have been obsessing over the mating rites of Princess Eugenie and faceless white guy no. 2779000. I mean, no newspapers have talked about the post-nuptial ceremony where bride and groom sacrifice the poorest person in the land between them in an orgy of lizard related violence. With the current high rates of homelessness, it is often hard to determine exactly who the poorest is, but compromises are made. It is of course only the financially poor that the reptiles can consume in this way. If it were emotional poverty, Britain’s CEOs would have something to worry about. However, as most of them are at least admirers of the cult of Royalty, it is possible that they would not object too much.
At the same wedding, as most of you are probably aware, Meghan and Harry announced that they will be expanding the Royal bloodline by beginning a brood of their own. No one really knows exactly how many eggs each Royal queen lays in a single batch, but what is known is that only the strongest survives each hatching, with the other hatchlings providing the fuel for it to reach it’s first moulting. This is the point where the official photos are taken, as the reptile puts on its first human skin. A significant amount of speculation has been made as to the skin colour of the next Royal baby. As always the colour will mostly depend on what other infants are available. The Royal’s preference for white skin mostly stems from the fact that broods are hatched at the exclusive private wing of St Mary’s. The real question is what colour the crest will be. Most Royals seem to be born with a brunette colour, except for Harry that has a ginger skin and bone structure. Although this calls into doubt his noble lineage at least one thing is certain: he is a dangerous man-eating lizard.
Some people might say that this is a pure fantasy, and I am imagining things purely for my own gratification. Well, if there was one thing that the Brexit campaign taught me, it’s that the electorate is easily fooled. Not me, not this time. I recognise the Royals for what they truly are: parasites.
