"I say, James - prop her up, dust her off, and tell Ms. Hughes to get some strong tea into her majesty! Yes, have her use the funnel! Yes, bring clean shoes! And I think her majesty pissed her girdle again, so please tell the lady's maid to get us a coat - something pastel & gracious - and don't forget to bring one of those ridiculous hats!"
"Ok - places, people! We're wheeling her to the balcony! And remember: So long as it looks like her majesty's coherent, Charles can't challenge the throne! And, for the love of God, will somebody please check the loo, and make sure that Camilla isn't waiting there with a camera...again!"
Working in a bookstore, I am - sadly - familiar with American gossip magazines like People, Star, In Touch, and US. I'm not proud of this fact - and I'm especially embarrassed with knowing how big Kim Kardashian's ass got during pregnancy - but selling weekly rags is as much a part of my job as showing customers the Shakespeare section.
That being said, I do know my products…and I concede that American magazines are the place to go when you want to learn who's on drugs, who's adopting another North Korean kid, and who had a wardrobe malfunction on live TV. Did you know that Vinnie Barbarino doesn't manscape before a massage? (I did.) And did you know that Chandler Bing used to dust his morning corn flakes with heroin? (I knew that, too!)
A coworker of mine even suggested a scenario where Kate Middleton avoids a painful, messy birth - with just a simple sneeze: "A-Choo!!" Kate would sigh happily, with her $2000 heels held apart by stirrups. and her baby would emerge with a face full of makeup (and immediately swaddled into a puff of white satin - as fragrant as freshly-cut flowers). No goop, no poop, and no icky placenta. It's the princess, after all - and like Downton Abbey, we simply shan't mention such unpleasant things.
CAMILLA: (Dressed in leather, holding an early copy of Fifty Shades of Grey): "You stupid, bloody, lanky FUCK! How do you think Prince Harry's actions will affect my chance to be QUEEN?" (She throws an ashtray at him. He ducks.) "What? Are you afraid that will make your cheeks even redder than they are already?"
CHARLES: (Dressed in one of his mother's gowns and a crown made of tin foil): "You do know that you look like John Cleese in drag as Linda Evans, right?" (He quickly backtracks.) "I'm sorry, Mistress! I'm sorry, Mistress…!"
Long live the Queen...