London - Holed up in a grotty geriatric ward at London's King Edward Potatoes Clinic for Past-it Duffers the Duke of Edinburgh had a terrifying vision last night.
Apparently someone told him that a once-in-a-lifetime Sun-Venus conjunction on Tuesday night/Wednesday morning 'was a government cover-up about little green men'.
Nurses then reported hearing feverish babblings about 'visitors from outer space' topping the Queen before quickly moving him to a private room with padded walls.
Five minutes later the wily old codger managed to leg it 'for a wee medicinal sharpener' of Scotch whisky and was heard crooning the 1962 smash-hit 'Venus In Blue Genes' [sic] at the top of his voice.
A powerful cocktail of intravenous largactil hastily administered into the royal rump had little or no sedative effect as Philip launched into the Bob Dylan number 'Everyone Must Get Stoned'...
"We're a bit worried about HRH," specialist psychiatric staff said this morning after finding a smuggled mobile phone from which the Duke had 'sexted' all his pals.
Mostly harmless pyjama shots and stuff about 'Waco-style' alien spaceships stalking the Queen.
The odds for the astrological aspect snuffing out Old Fatty Mountbatten have been trimmed to an attractive 3/1.
