Prince Charles Didn’t Do Shit
Royal heir denies unmade allegations to confused public
ANSEL EVANS
The delightfully gawkish Prince of Wales, seen here posing for a calendar of Great British Slouches
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All of England is in a froth this week as rumors circulate about a deliciously dirty secret tucked deep into the cranny-holes of the House of Windsor. What exactly has a former manservant alleged about that most buck-toothed of Casanovas, Prince Charles of Wales? Newspapers all over Britain are bursting at the bylines to gush about this vile and heinous morsel, a tale promised to be so lurid and shocking as to rip the top of your head off and skullfuck to death your children who have still yet to be born.
But one obstacle remains to the commencement of this public orgy of disclosure: nobody can say what Charles is supposed to have done. Nobody; not the press, not your shopkeeper, not even a little talking cricket with an umbrella. Thanks to a lawsuit brought by yet another of Charles’ deposed butlers and England’s medieval libel laws, the mere mention of the Prince’s alleged crime is enough to get a man strung up by his sweetmeats and fed English food intravenously until hell freezes over, or one of the Spice Girls wins the Nobel Peace Prize. In other words: pack your earmuffs, Gary Leon Ridgway.
This strange tale of anonymous denial and dueling ex-butlers has grown bizarre enough to make Charles’s possible crimes almost incidental and likely disappointing in comparison, but regardless curiosity dangles an anvil over the cat’s cranium with a vengeance this week.
“The Prince of Wales didn’t do shit, and any shit it is alleged he may have done, was not done by him, regardless of whatever exactly that shit entails,” Charles’s private secretary Sir Michael Peat read from a prepared statement. “We won’t say what it is he didn’t do, but only seek to make it clear he didn’t do anything. At all. No matter what you’re thinking of, Prince Charles didn’t do it. Furthermore, Charles penned this quote he wanted passed on to the general public: ‘I ain’t done shit, and you sons of bitches can kiss my inbred royal hiney until it shines. Love, Charles.’”
Managing editor for the Times, William Barclay, agreed to speak to the commune after consulting with his lawyers over how the letter of the law looked upon libelous “hints” and “warmer, colder” guidance. After being convinced that no one with a law degree would be caught dead reading the commune, Barclay agreed to evade our questions in an answerlike manner.
Did Charles… fondle a butler?
“No, absolutely not.”
Did he have sex with a piece of antique furniture?
“Not that we’re aware of.”
Fluff a chicken?
“No.”
Pork a stork?
“No.”
Are we close at all on the sex thing, are we at least warm?
“We’re not at liberty to divulge that information.”
Nuts. Was that him in Christina Aguilera’s “Dirrty” video?
“I am certain I don’t know.”
Further inquiry clarified that the alleged offense did not involve dressing an elephant up like a cheerleader, cannibalizing the corpse of a dead war hero, eating an entire case of crisps in one sitting or drunkenly crashing his car into a whale’s vagina. He also never choked on a pretzel, had his body painted to blend in with the London cityscape, or smoked Van Gogh’s ear in a hash pipe. It is likely there were several more scenarios in which the heir to the throne did not take part, but this reporter was escorted out the door before he could fully formulate one involving Paddington the bear, marmalade, and the Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders.
the commune news has never been afraid to print the truth, libel laws be damned. On second thought, that should read “the commune news has never been afraid to print libel, the truth be damned.” The relevant plaque in the commune home office had become encrusted with jam and difficult to read. Truman Prudy is the commune’s resident expert on Great Britain, seeing as how he grew up there and the rest of us find it so easily confused with neighboring Great Daneland.
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