|
A secret terrorist plan
Time: 13:42
Location: Outside Buckingham Palace
Weather: Wouldn't you like to know
As the afternoon gets hotter, three hooded, cloaked, masked and shifty characters make a move towards the Palace Gates. As one more rotund member of the gang subtly clambers up the fence, he is seen by a security guard, who stopped staring at the ground in front of him a few minutes earlier to scratch his genitals. The conversation that followed was not a pleasant one:
Guard: Excuse me, good sirs, what are you doing?
First man: (shiftily) We...look for small dog to pet.
Guard: If you want Corgis, you don't need to climb over the fence.
(Fat man slips down off fence.)
Second man: Well... dog is on other side of fence.
Guard: (peering beyond) I don't see any dog.
Third man: (pulling out a gun) You see dog now.
Guard: I'm afraid I don't. What do you want a Corgi for anyway?
There is a short gunshot outside the gates. A few tiara-adorned heads peer out of the window, but most of them just turn back.
When the terrorists reach the entrance to the palace, another guard comes rushing up, having seen them out of the corner of his eye while staring rigidly at the ground in front of him.
Guard 2: Identification, please.
First man: Here you go.
Guard 2: This passport shows Maria Sharapova.
First man: Exactly...(pointing to first man) this is Maria Sharapova.
Guard 2: Then why did you give me...its passport?
First man: She...try to concentrate for her next tennis match... now be showing some respect and let us through!
Guard 2: Then... who are you then?
First man: Your worst nightmare.
(An awed silence.)
Guard 2: Meaning what exactly?
(The fat man rushes in and performs an excellent roundhouse kick. The guard totters, and then falls to the ground. A few Londoners take photographs of the goings on, blissfully unaware of the danger and stupidity which is occurring.)
The terrorists continue to the Palace.
They enter the Queen's bedroom.
Queen: How'd you get in here?
Third man: Most of the guards just wanted autographs.
Queen: I see. What is it you want?
Second man: The end of slavery, abolition of world poverty, and for the Simpsons to be given back to BBC Two.
Queen: Slavery was abolished years ago, you silly fool, world poverty is being dealt with at the G8 Summit, and the Simpsons will never be given back to BBC Two; it brings so much revenue to Pizza Hut. Anything else?
First man: Hmm. Do you mind if we just back out the door and then attempt the cliched and risky but probably doomed flight from the Palace?
Queen: Not at all. I get this all the time, you know.
Second man: Really?
Queen: Yeah. One poor bloke even started telling me all his problems while sitting on the end of my bed. And then there was that Batman impersonator... he thought he was kinky.
Second man: Oh, well.
Queen: If you like, you can sit down. Where do you come from?
Second man: If I told you that, I'd have to kill you.
Queen: Why?
(The group huddle.)
First man: She's got a point, you know.
(They all enter into a lengthy conversation. Eventually a burly and probably camp security guard arrives.)
Guard: (handcuffing the first man) Come with me, you unfortunate but ironically stupid wannabes.
First man: Guess its all over.
Queen: Maybe we'll meet again sometime.
First man: Hmm...You were a real looker.
First man: Crud. |
|
