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crocodile seen weeping at gates of buckingham palace
30/03/02 @ 10:22 p.m.
The latest news from our Royal Correspondent, Christian Surname... This afternoon, a woman who lived in a house with six hundred rooms died in the laziest way possible. Having sat on her arse for most of her life, it was decided that the century of sycophancy that had accompanied it was richly deserved. She was a remarkable woman, for reasons that don’t exist and can only be talked around, not about. According to the collective consciousness™, she got this country through the war, without actually fighting or dying in the battles herself. As according to the guidelines agreed in the early twentieth century, the media has begun spouting platitudes, while people who almost met her in the late 1970s have given non-specific tributes, making reference to vague non-achievements. Detail has been forbidden, in the knowledge that it would reveal too much truth. Some old people die alone in their council flats and aren’t found for weeks; this pampered old crone died with servants around her, and it’s been declared a national tragedy.
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