Her Majesty the Queen has decided to trash tradition and do something different for her annual bore-fest. ‘This year, one shall mostly be freestyling over classic grime alongside that awfully jolly Stormzy chappie. For the last 173 years, the nation has had to endure an interminable, stilted speech from one that no one listens to, including one. Most people fall asleep, knock over the sherry and set their miserable hovels ablaze. So one has taken drastic action this year and will kick some motherfucking hip-hop ass. ‘One has sufficient supplies of bling in the palace to light it up like a Christmas tree. One will be posing gangsta style with a pair of Philip’s trusty old 12-bores and one’s specially commissioned union jack stab bra one commissioned from the divine Mr Banksy. ‘Please rest assured that Camilla has been practising her twerking routine night and day, while Kate and the one one doesn’t talk to will be one’s bitches. One expects everything to go orf swimmingly, but if there is an outbreak of dissing, one has ordered the household cavalry to put the perpetrators to the sword.’
