London - (Royal Ass Mess): Spew, vomit, chunder. The sound of constant flushing of the royal ensuite lav has sent Palace lackeys mental as HM battles out raging dyspepsia brought on by the day's grim news.
"At this rate she'll have a bloomin heart attack!" Palace Chamberlain Lord Luce-Cannon chuckled gleefully.
"Let's hope!" Silver Stick Up Yer Waiting Arse Sir Fauntleroy Maggot concurred wisely.
At the heart of the Queen's digestive dilemma tonight is the bloody awful news that Mark Thatcher might be Kate Middleton's actual birth father.
That would mean having to sit next to Mrs T at the Abbey and later at the Buck House wedding breakfast.
Such a possibility has really rattled Her Majesty whose prescription laudanum intake has suddenly gone haywire.
"I say, Blenkinsop," Lord Luce-Cannon muses, "what of she really drops dead from the news...tomorrow?
"Just WTF do you propose we do??"