Through the miracle of Timeshift Slogmobile technology, we fast forward now to June 13th, and morph into flies on the wall of a meeting room in Buckingham Palace. Therein, two senior citizens discuss the big issues of the day in the late evening of their lives.
QE2: Airhh Hellair Mister Prisidint, how’re you caping with you new jorb?
POTUS: Oh yer know your mighdiness, there’s nuthin noo in this, I’ve been working for the Pennagun for many years now…
QE2: Oeeh rairly? But you’re the Prisident nigh, if I understand correctly…
POTUS: I am?
QE2: Oeeh yiz…I’m sure I’ve seen you orn the news ind so forth, sitting in your Eauval Orfiss asitwah.
POTUS: No shit? Wahl, it’s good to see you’re keeping up widdah nooz yer Maj’stee, by the way, scuze me but I notice that you have a…
QE2:….please don’t touch me there, that iz entahlly inapropriate. Arr yooo staying for some tyeem heyah in Landon?
POTUS: Couldn’t tell yer to be annest, I have, yer know, support staff who look after that sorda stuff, but they said look Joe, there’s this old Dame with a Palace there so why not yer know go see her, chew the fat and….
QE2: Corekt me if I’m wrorng, but you are I think orv Irish linny-edge are you not?
POTUS: Sureaz hell Ma’am, emerald green tooda core….
QE2: Earz. They killed my uncle you know. Dooyoo heeav a view orn that?
POTUS: They did? Well, you have ma deepesd sym’athiz Mrs Queen, but I’m sure it was an accident…I could have, you know, the CIA look inder that…
QE2: The CIA? Are they affiliated to the IRA?
POTUS: Oh no ma’am, that’s our tax people. The Inland Revenue Authoridiz do a fine job at collectin’ all the doh I’m spendin’ right now….
QE2: Rairly? I see. My hasband Phillip despises the IRA…
POTUS: I was really sorry to hear of your loss, Ma’am…
QE2: Since my Corvid jeeyab, I lose things all the time Mister Prisidint….which particular one did you have in mind?
POTUS: Oh gee…well I guess, yer know – your Prince?
QE2: Charles? Oh he’s in rude health…and virry happy with that Mrs Park-Andride, I think. What abite your Corvid twin-injection?
POTUS: Well yer Eminence, these days….yer know, I don’t drive fast audomobiles any more.
QE2: Eeeyoh…aarrr, are you sure you’re alright? Would you like a cup of Charles’s Duchy Organic Sheepdip Number Fifty-three naturally origami-flavoured tea? I’m teeold it clairs the mind wondflee…
POTUS: Well yer Holiness, my minders keep telling me to avoid anything that clears stuff up, so I kinda go with that. I mean hey, whaddya gonna do?
QE2: I’ve no idea Mister Prisidint….probably disinherit Charles and pass the baton to dear William.
POTUS: William Shakespeare? Izzen he dead?
QE2: Quite possibly….was it Corvid? Perhaps he was one of those selfish archetypes who didn’t get a jeeab.
POTUS: Could be your Maj…I don’t trust those arty types myself ter be honest….we had a liddle run in with their sort on January Six – you know, Goddamm Commnists in league with Russia…
QE2: Oh Queeite…don’t get me started on that swine Rasputin….his Reds killed all my second cousins you know…
POTUS: You’re righd on the money there Queenie…he controlled Trump – tried to steal the election…
QE2: Oh earz….your predecessor. Ginger as I recall. One has had tairrble trouble with gingers. I mean Good Gord, look at poor Harry…
CORGI: Wuff wuff wuff.
QE2: Be quiet, Meghan. Doo yooo like dorgs, Mister Prisidint?
POTUS: Can’t say I’ve ever eaten one, Ma’am.
QE2: Well you see, a dog is for life, not for Christmas.
POTUS: That’s what my buddy Doctor Fauci says about viruses…
QE2: Doctor who?
POTUS: No, Doctor Fauci. Although he works a lot with the WHO…
QE2: Aren’t they some kind of noisy, drug-befuddled group paid ridiculous amounts of money?
POTUS: That’s them.
And in other news today, the new Nepal variant has been meddling in Portuguese tourism, Tory blimp Graham Brady has noticed that pushing June 21st back will be expensive, MI6 stooge Con Coughlin is peddling fear of a Chinese biological attack, and the Pfizer vaccine is less effective against the Indian variant which is more likely to hospitalise people than the Kent strain, everyone’s forgotten about the Vietnamese mutant and nobody knows what Covid Delta is. No wonder I’ve turned to satire.