First of all, I'd just like to say, BOOM! Ha-ha, just kidding! I always feel a little levity brightens every situation, don't you?
This is a dark hour for Britain and the rest of the world, and I'm sure many of you are frightened for what the future holds. At a time like this, it's important to think of others. For example, just try to imagine how I feel. I mean, what have you got to lose? A one-room walk-up flat, most of you, with a loo down the hall and the smell of cumin always in the air because of whatever your Pakistani neighbor's been cooking. Me, though, I live in a palace. Palaces, actually, and I rotate between them. I basically own the whole country when you get right down to it. I mean, if this really turns out to be Armageddon, I'm pretty well screwed.
Thank goodness the rest of the royal family and I have our secret bomb-proof underground chamber to go to, which is already stocked with truffles, champagne, and pate de fois gras, otherwise, the thought would just be too, too terrible to endure. I wish I could invite all of you to come down with us, but it's top-tippy-top secret and I'm only telling you now because you'll all be vaporized in a matter of hours anyway. Besides there's only just enough room for the royal family, our personal staff, and Prince Harry's hand-picked retinue of supermodels. (Boys!)
Meanwhile, I just want you to know, that the family and I will be thinking of you, there on the surface, amid the smoking wrecks of once-great cities, populated by giant mutant cockroaches our scientists predict will swarm the earth. We won't think of you right away, frankly, because we're having a costume party this weekend - I do hope Harry doesn't wear that atrocious Nazi Africa Korps uniform again - but as soon as that's over, I'll be thinking of you twenty-four, seven, but actually, come to think of it, you should all be dead midweek, so I'll think of you twenty-four, four. Right after the costume party.
Toodle-oo.
