Written by queen mudder
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Wednesday, 27 June 2012

image for Bomber Command nemesis of the IRA handshake Queen
Now wash your hands in carbolic - or the flesh eating bug will devour your ass

London - A karmic thunderbolt threatens to smite down Elizabeth Windsor on Thursday as she unveils the World War II memorial in Hyde Park.

Scenes of her glad handing IRA murderer Martin McGuinness this morning have suck - er...stuck! - in the craw of the Goddess Nemesis.

It's seen sounds of divine retching reverberate across the cosmos, the aftershocks rocking the International Space Station's bullshit-o-meter in an imminent karmic vomiting alert.

Thirty years of Government whitewash and fudge have elevated Irish thug McGuinness to Global Piss Process stardom in a mixed metaphors mishmash first spread in cyberspace.

"That's her 30-pieces-of-silver price for the Diamond Jubilee fantasy, last year's royal wedding and appeasement of NewsCorpse's rape of the media," a Palace flunky raged out loud today.

The row has now spread to MI5's anti-terror directorate as previously mothballed Real IRA files finally reveal a nasty picture.

Apparently the price of Old Fatty Mountbatten clinging on to the Hellfire Club throne also included the spawning of a cuckoo-in-ermine, fathered by the 1979 Enniskillen bombing's KGB mastermind.

Their little bastard's public career soon went stellar as he acquired the ID and persona of one of the country's leading dukes - a top toff so bent that even the Kray Brothers ended up doffing their caps and calling him 'Sir'.

"Yeah, but you gotta laugh, innit?" a former UK Fraud Squad officer countered today.

"Last thing we heard about Old Nukey Dukey - as we like to call him - is that he's been booted out of his million-quid-per-annum rented castle apartment with the landlords suing him for destruction of property."

A wretched divorce also looms as the now homeless duchess begins to wreak her matrimonial revenge.

The Bummer Command Queen's date with destiny is at noon tomorrow.

Expect that thunderbolt to strike as the heavens open up their floodgates.

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The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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