Infuriated by an exclusive in today’s Guardian which told them that Prince Charles has secretly been running Britain according to his personal whim for the last five years, a baying mob of middle-class lefties stormed the gates of Clarence House, brusquely dragged the hapless heir out of his daily conference with the geraniums and hauled him in fetters to the Banqueting House in Whitehall - where, to rousing cheers, he was promptly beheaded by puritan Guardian editor Alan Rusbridger.
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| The psychic rose emperor never said anything about this |
The republican proletariat had been stirred to fury by the shocking article, which revealed that the Duke of Cornwall, drunk on power, has been vigorously exercising his royal prerogative - enshrined in a loophole in English law – to veto any parliamentary legislation which might conceivably impinge on his divine right to sell cream of mushroom soup in Waitrose at £2.99.
As the grim moralist of Fleet Street raised his axe, the doomed royal touchingly uttered his last words: “Let not poor Millie run out of fags.”
“The tyrant is dead! Long live the republic!” piped up one raddled old crone (Polly Toynbee), the besandalled multitude taking up the clarion call as it marched on Westminster to bear the good news to Parliamentarian leader David Cameron along with some rather awesome organic hummus.
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