The Queen’s Christmas Message To The Commonwealth (2004)

As many of you are probably aware, it is a tradition in this country for the Queen to give a short speech to the nation on Christmas Day. What you may not be aware of, however, is that what we actually see and hear is only an edited highlight of a much longer process of editing and shooting.

Recently, however, a full transcript was leaked to me by email. I present it here as a matter of national importance:

“Yo dudes, dis am Bessie in da big ‘ouse biggin’ it up for da baubles and da tinsel…”

“Er, your majesty?”

“Yes?”

“Could we try something a little more formal at all?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I mean something without the argot.”

“Well William and Harry thought it would help me communicate with the young. It’s how they all talk apparently.”

“Yes, well some people might consider it inappropriate for a monarch. Can you start again, with a little more authority?”

“I suppose so, if you think its right.”

(EDIT POINT. 2 MINUTES LATER)

“Ok, and cue.”

“Right you unworthy bunch of bastards, I’m the f–king Queen right and whatever I say goes ok? So listen up sharpish, cos I don’t take no shit, right? Now I’ve been called away from the f–king sherry cabinet to talk down to you cringing wasters. so make the best of it…”

“Er…your majesty?”

“Right now all you self righteous turds who voted to ban fox hunting…

“Your Majesty?!!”

“Now what!!?? You said I should assert some authority didn’t you?!!”

“Yes, but if we could try it without such obvious contempt? Can we not do it as we do it all the other years?”

“You mean all gentle and cozy?”

“Yes, that’s right your majesty.”

“(Sigh) And one did so want to boost the ratings as well. Ah well”

(EDIT POINT. 5 MINUTES LATER)

“Ok, and cue.”

“The time has come around again for me to sit in front of my many Christmas cards and reflect on the events of the past year. This has indeed been a most memorable year. It has seen numerous contradictory and often perplexing occurrences. Some happy, some not so happy. Among the latter one has to include the recently passed ban on Foxhunting by that spolisport Tony Blair and his trendy townies who know as much about the countryside as I do. What right have these do-gooding, trendy rodent-sympathizers have to impose their views on us decent people? I mean what a complete and utter f–king waste of time. What is wrong with giving old Basil a boot up the brush every now and again anyway? The population has to be controlled, so why shouldn’t we have fun while we do it? They love the exercise, its good for them…..”

” Get off the fox hunting, get off the fox hunting!!!”

“We may be being less than on honest in our claims that its population control, after all we did use to import the little bastards from France, but that’s hardly the point. The point is…..

(EDIT POINT. 20 MINUTE RANT ABOUT FOX HUNTING. NOT SUITABLE FOR PUBLIC CONSUMPTION.)

“One of the main highlights of this year was our tour of the inner cities. I have particularly happy memories of the time Philip, William, Harry and myself visited Brixton. At first I was a little anxious about being there. You don’t see many darkies in my line of work, but William assured me his grasp of darkie speak would see us through. It did seem to cause great amusement all around when he stepped into the waiting crowds and shouted “Yo Niggaz!! Biggin’ it up for the Brixton crew!!” Meantime Harry had gone off to “score” something. He seems to be very into his music, always off scoring something or another. It seems that today it was a piece called “Crack” he was looking for help on. He was very excited when he came back, he kept talking about being attacked by purple velvet butterflies. I wondered how that would work on stage? He’s such a funny chap. Philip was more interested in whether the natives still ate each other or not. On the whole a very good time was had. At least by us.”

“Ok, Cut!! That’ll have to do.”

TRANSCRIPT ENDS

This was an email I sent to friends as a Christmas card that year. Based on real events but, hopefully, not totally actionable.

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what about myself?
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