HIS ROYAL FUCKPIGNESS, CHARLES, PRINCE OF WALES,
DUKE OF CORNWALL AND USELESS, IDLE PIMPING BASTARD
I'M GOING TO BE KING, YES I AM, SO YOU CAN ALL FUCK OFF.
KISS MY ROYAL ARSE, NOT THAT YOU NEED AN INVITATION, MOST OF YOU.
One would just like to say that one is appalled, absolutely appalled, at the dreadful suffering in one's dukedom, I mean, one may well have to forego a portion of one's rents. And at a time when one is going to have to root around in one of the silver cupboatds to give the newlyweds a gift, well, it's a jolly poor show. One may have to go off for six weeks ski-ing to help one restore one's equilibrium. A jolly good job you lot are paying for the wedding. And my Coronation. And Camilla's. Well, if this little scrubber can be Queen so can my dear old horsefaced shagbag, eh? The people? Fuck the people, they'll think what they're told.
Lieutenant Colonel Rupert Golightly-Jockstrap, of the Queen's Own RedTrousered NancyBoys Regiment, an equerry (fawning servant) to his Grace, the Duke, said that although His Royal Highness was deeply moved by the plight of his subjects in St Austell and some other towns of the Dukedom which he had temporarily forgotten the names of, he would not be jumping on the Royal Train and going down to help with sandbags and sweeping the shit out of people's grimy little hovels, Fuck me, no. That's not what the Royal Family is for.