Saturday, 8 May 2010

The Prince Harry Party

You may recall I touched on a former fantasy the other day in which I was a frequent passenger aboard a first class business carriage. Feeble, I know. However, I had another that crossed my mind as the election results poured in...

Picture the scene. Buckingham Palace the morning of the election – all eyes on the constitution. Prince Harry storms into the throne room and takes the crown from his grandmother, bypassing his father and brother in the process. It is a coup worthy of Shakespeare, Bolingbroke and the entire House of York. Slamming the crown upon his ginger thatch, he roars a battle cry, downs a bottle of ale and marches down the Mal and across to Whitehall. There, he kicks open the door to 10 Downing Street, pushes Cameron and Clegg to one side and grabs Brown by the scruff of the neck, before punting him out onto the street.
‘Take this dog to the Tower!’ he cries, his eyes boring fiercely into the terrified hacks, who scurry away as a succession of guards seize our former PM and place him in chains.
‘What of us?’ a small voice is heard from the entrance hall.
‘I wont be needing you!’ Harry replies, with a steely grin. ‘There will be a new dawn for this country – cry God for Harry, England and St George!’

It wont happen though. Things like never do.

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