Greetings loyal subjects.
It is me, Elizabeth, from your money.
As monarch, I must remain impartial when it
comes to politics.
But as an old person, to hell with that, I
shall speak my royal mind.
One hates to see Britain in such a sorry state,
especially since who knows how much time one has left.
Forty, fifty years tops.
But if Brexit must happen, then so be it.
I have become a fan of closing one's borders
ever since an unwanted American slipped through.
Not naming any names...
Meghan Markle.
As for the EU, who needs the beaches of Italy,
when one can fog-bathe among the crags of Grimsby.
Who needs the vineyards of France? The wine-mongers
of Kent produce the finest grape alcohol you'll ever drink...
or strip paint with.
Completely up to you.
Who needs the EU at all, when one has colonies?
Montserrat, Bermuda, the British Virgin Islands,
well they were Virgin before we British got there...
And we shall always have India.
What?
Since when?
1947?
Why was I not told?
But if Brexit proves unwise, and the proverbial
excrement hits the royal fan, one can take
comfort in knowing there is a place for me among my commonwealth nations New Zealand,
or in a pinch, Old Zealand.
But preferably in my favourite ex-colony...
which wretched backwater is this message for again?
Canada.
Didn't we sell that place on Kijiji?
My favourite ex-colony, Canada.
God save me, or you'll be stuck with Charles.
Tootles.
