Royal Consort Recovering As Well As Unimaginable Privilege Will Allow

The Queen thinks this is what ambulances look like

After being airlifted by the RAF to Papworth General’s world-leading heart surgery unit hospital for a routine stent fitting which your nan might well die waiting for, Prince Philip is reported by surgeons to be about as comfortable as you would expect Britain’s most pampered man to be.

The Queen has visited her husband in hospital this morning, where he is said by Palace officials to be sitting up and entertaining African nurses and the Portuguese ancillary staff alike with urbane witticisms concerning their physical characteristics and cultural backgrounds.

Meanwhile, sound editors at the BBC have spent a sleepless night creating a backup version of the Queen’s Speech, just in case, in which the word ‘late’ is dubbed in every time Her Majesty utters her famous catchphrase, “my husband and I” in between the meaningless platitudes which she fondly imagines will cast from her subjects’ minds any thoughts of the ever-widening disparity between her lifestyle and the one they can look forward to after the credit card statements land on their doormats.

Deceased Science Fiction Author Robert Sheckley Named Investigative Reporter Of The Year

Cliff Alive And Available For Weddings, Funerals, Bar Mitzvahs

Sir Cliff Richard today reminded the public that he is still very much alive, and would very much welcome the opportunity to sing at your special occasion.

Sir Cliff can bring his own backcloth, too, for added glitz

“I can bring my own amp and backing tape and everything,” promised the lizard-throated God botherer. “Very reasonable rates. Just sit me next to a mains socket and I can set up in a jiffy. Perhaps you’re organising the office Christmas party this evening, and Lady Gaga has cancelled at the last minute. Give me a call. Please. I can definitely fit you in.”

For an extra fiver, Sir Cliff says he will also chuck in Una Stubbs.

“And I promise not to bang on about Jesus,” he added earnestly. “Not while the mic’s plugged in, anyway.”

Daily Mail Now Openly Admitting That It Makes Stuff Up

The Mail says: give that man a VC

As Dominic Sandbrook, Britain’s leading historian specialising in events which will probably never happen, pens another speculative what-if daydream in which heroic Prince Harry is captured by the wicked Argies whilst single-handedly reconquering the Falkland Islands, Daily Mail editor Paul Dacre finally admitted that the paper has in fact been a work of fiction ever since its very first issue in 1896.

“The trouble with real events is that, even after they've been raised to boiling point inside Peter Hitchens’ and Stephen Glover's steaming heads, they simply aren’t dramatic enough,” explained Mr Dacre. “So from now on I’ll be vigorously excising any stray shreds of truth which may have slipped into our reporting. Our readers won’t notice the difference, as they parted company with the real world years ago.”

He went on to announce the sacking of the Mail’s entire staff, to be replaced by leading storytellers such as JK Rowling, Dan Brown and Julian Assange.

“Don’t miss tomorrow’s thrilling lead story, in which we exclusively reveal the unspeakably foreign Nazi Pope’s evil web of intrigue which falsely implicated Harry Potter in the rape of Hogwarts’ exchange student from Sweden,” he added, “And how it will give you cancer.”

Christmas The Perfect Time To Tell A Loved One ‘You Fat Bastard’, Say Hollow-Cheeked Miseries

Dad, you fat bastard

Shrew-faced health experts today urged you to save the lives of any family members who actually enjoy food, by calling them bloated, waddling gutbuckets as they gorge themselves on Christmas turkey.

“Nothing is more distressing than the morbid slobbering of fat fucks at Christmas,” hissed Dave Hashole, chairman of the National Obesity Forum. “It’s enough to put you off your sprout.”

Concerned family members are urged to prevent an imminent death in the family by tutting loudly every time the family fatty shovels another mouthful in, prodding them repeatedly in the flab and pointedly asking their partners how they can possibly engage in sexual activity with that repellent mound of quivering blubber.

“Remember, cautioned Mr Hashole, pedalling furiously on his exercise bike in the forlorn hope of living forever, “Nothing gives a dear but porky relative more Christmas cheer than ‘Jesus Christ! Can’t you just stop eating for five minutes, you disgusting fat fucker?’”

Sony Creates Tiny Fan To Replace Millions Of Displeased Customers

Dissatisfied fans

As hordes of irate Japanese PlayStation Vita purchasers catalogued defect after defect in the newly-launched handheld console and a class-action lawsuit was filed in California by PlayStation Network users against the gagging clause the corporation has inserted into its terms and conditions, Sony engineers defiantly unveiled the only fan which still has reason to be grateful to the consumer electronics giant – a tiny two-inch propeller which is driven by the electricity generated by a battery containing paper-digesting enzymes.

Satisfied fan

“You ungrateful bastards,” announced project engineer Yuichi Tokita. “We transform your miserable existence with our revolutionary inventions, like portable colour televisions and the Walkman - and this is the thanks we get? Once again, out of the kindness of our hearts, we have sweated blood to improve your pathetic ant-like lives with this beautiful three-bladed propeller, but all you can do is moan. Well, fuck you. From now on, all future research will be directed solely towards selling Sony products to this nice, uncomplaining little fan.”

The press conference was then brought to an early close as the enzyme-powered generator – like previous Sony batteries – suddenly exploded.

Police Can Shoot Suspected Bogus Carol Singers

Shoot to kill

Police today urged the public to look out for opportunistic thieves posing as charity carol singers, promising to give anyone suspected of singing ‘Away In A Manger’ in an insincere manner both barrels.

“Season’s greetings, all. If you don’t care for the tone of anyone who rocks up on your doorstep rattling a tin in your face, just give us a quick jingle bell and the Armed Response Unit will be round in a jiffy to blast the cheeky fuckers to kingdom come,” said Chief Inspector of Constabulary Sir Denis O’Connor.

“Ho ho ho,” he added festively.

Talking Dog To Split

It's Amy Winehouse all over again

YouTube’s sensational talking dog today shocked fans by announcing that he is breaking up at the peak of his career.

“I need some time out to deal with my sudden rise to fame,” explained the dog celebrity. “I will be checking into the Priory clinic to deal with my food addiction issues, and when I am recovered I shall be looking at various media career options. Presenting Daybreak on ITV is just one exciting possibility I’ll be exploring.”

Meanwhile, a radiant Katie Price told reporters she is expecting the dog’s child.

Posthumous Fame Can Be Yours!

North Koreans Convinced Shortage Of Tributes Signifies Imminent Collapse Of Decadent Capitalist Telephone Networks

The lack of fulsome tributes to Kim Jong-il from the rest of the world offers clear evidence that the obsolete capitalist system is finally on its last legs, according to many grieving North Koreans.

Pyongyang's foreign office is waiting to take your call

“For many years now, it’s only been the fatherly advice of the Dear Leader that has kept the outside world from descending into rack and ruin,” explained skeletal swamp-farmer Hong Gil-dong. “Within hours of his tragic demise, it appears the shoddily-built Western communication satellites are already tumbling from the skies. I almost feel sorry for the weeping dictators of the West as they sit forlornly by their dead telephones, unable to contact our glorious paradise on earth to express their pathetic gratitude for the late Supreme Leader’s inspirational statesmanship and to grovel for the Great Successor’s wisdom and guidance.”

“This latest manifest failure of capitalism isn’t surprising,” he added. “After all, we’re still waiting patiently for the criminally bourgeois postal systems of the West to pass on all your solemn condolences for the glorious passing of the Eternal President, and that was 17 years ago.”

“I heard this morning that our Father’s demise has triggered the wholesale collapse of the evil capitalist stock markets,” smiled Paek Sung-hee, a painfully thin bicycle repairer from Pyongyang. “It’s what he would have wanted.”

World Promises To Get Round To Seeing One Of Havel’s Plays Soon

Communism simply had no answer to this

Following the death of former Czech dissident, playwright and finally president Vaclav Havel, the world faithfully promised it really ought to watch - or at least read – one or two of his legendary plays sometime in the near future.

“Vaclav Havel has truly been an inspiration to me,” said a man in a street today. “My daily life has been informed and enriched by his incredible works, such as the unforgettable… um… and the deeply moving… er…”

“Pennies From Heaven,” he added. “That was one of his, wasn’t it?”

Tory-Toasting Nazi Sacked For Bringing Party Into Disrepute

Schwein

Backbench Nazi Aidan von Burley has been sacked from his parliamentary post by Hitler and placed under SS investigation, after being photographed toasting the Conservative Party during the stag weekend of a friend who was dressed as a Tory.

“Von Burley has behaved in a manner which is offensive and foolish,” said a Party spokesman in a propaganda broadcast. “Just because the Tories happen to share our views on disability doesn’t make them acceptable.”

Meanwhile, Herr Hitler - who recently used the Burning of the Mobelstag as an excuse for mass arrests - has announced a doubling of the security budget for the Olympiad to cover massive Wehrmacht deployment in and around the Olympische Dorf, raising fears that he will usurp the sporting ethos of the event as a showcase for his vaunting military ambitions. He also warned that any disabled athletes daring to participate in the Paralympic Games will be followed around track and field by the dreaded interrogators of the Atostapo.