This year’s Queen’s Christmas message is not only to be televised, but also available as a podcast and on YouTube in an attempt to reach out to younger viewers. Apparently, the speech itself has been updated a little in order to ‘really connect’ with today’s youth. An exceedingly unreliable correspondent from the Royal Household has leaked what he allegedly says is a transcript of this year’s speech.
My homie 'Bubbles' and me is sendin’ a bigged-up Merry Christmas and stuff and a Happy New Year and shit your way, isn’t it?
We’re well glad this year is nearly over, because it’s been a bit of a bummer, you know what I mean?
They are still ranting on about a certain young lady previously associated with one of my boys and this ‘n that and apparently she was having an affair with Dido. Big bucks for that video, isn’t it? Anyway, some shopkeeper is mouthing off that she was knocked up by his son. Says that we had them killed and stuff so that we wouldn’t have to pay for the wedding or something - what am I, James Bond? (Radical, Miss Moneypenny!) He wants me to go to court and everything, I mean, no way – he’s not my Dad!
Sons, and that, are like well tiresome, d’you know what I mean? I mean, mine keeps moping around all day and he’s like ‘Come on Mummy, let me have a go at being Queen?’ and I’m like ‘No way Bro, I haven’t finished yet, is it?’. He’s a bit crap if you ask me – Duke of bloody Cornwall and can’t even do a decent Jethro impression, tragic. Anyway, I’ve well stitched him and everything, got him a part time job at Christmas steering poor jam-stained little Chavs into Santa’s Grotto in Brent Cross.
Some of you have sent me word that your Christmas is gonna be well distressing, because the post office hasn’t turned up with the bling and shit you’ve ordered over the internet. That’s not on because these Jokers are calling themselves the ‘Royal Mail’ and everything and that’s disrespecting me because Im the Royal Queen and stuff and they're well-useless and I'm not. I’m not standing for that and I’m sending my grandsons over there to sort them out because they’re well-hard. They wanted to know what was in it for them, so I promised them half an hour each with a hand-maiden, d’you know what I mean? One of them is a bit odd though, said he’d rather have a foot-man, and he hasn’t even been in the Navy. Scary.
Well, that’s enough from me now because the Dinner’s ready and Chef, he’s an ex heroin-addict, gets well vexed and everything if it cools down. He says that there’s nothing worse than Cold Turkey. Ha ha, that’s my Christmas joke, get it? Anyway Eastenders is on now.
A Merry Christmas to all of you and your husbands, wives or civil partners if you is batting for the other side, isn't it, isn't it? Standard!