The Royal We are disgusted at the gross disdain with which residents of Sydney’s Eastern Suburbs treated their majesties King Charles III and Queen Camilla during their recent tour of the colony.
Where was the outpouring of love and devotion so readily lavished upon Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II (RIP) and His Majesty Prince Philip (RIP) during their visits to this empirical outpost?
Why were streets and houses not draped in the Union Jack, or even the Australian flag, and why were schools not closed to enable children to serenade their beloved rulers? This travesty would certainly not have transpired were His Excellency David Hurley still Governor General, as it is believed his loyal wife, Linda, had penned a number of melodies for this occasion alone, including one entitled ‘Duty and Doilies’.
This simply will not do.
We also witnessed children named Di…a, M…an and H…y frolicking freely, indicating that their neglectful parents paid no heed to the royal decree for citizens so titled to change their names for the duration of the visit, so as not to offend their majesties or incite royal watchers.
Conversely, a detailed perusal of birth records at Prince of Wales Hospital in the month of October revealed no marked upturn in the number of subjects being bestowed the names Charles, Charlie, Carlos or Charlemagne, nor Camilla.
Punishments will ensue.
We are similarly outraged that local authorities, acting under the auspices of His Majesty and his appointed representative Her Excellency the Honourable Sam Mostyn AC, made no discernible effort to remove from the Eastern Suburbs Misters C Foster and M Turnbull. It was, in fact, gleaned from further investigation that Mr Turnbull was once the elected representative of this very region and has since retired to palatial luxury just moments from Kings Cross.
Heads will roll.
Why were their majesties not invited to patronise a race that stops an empire at Royal Randwick Racecourse, or feted during a reception at Royal Randwick shopping centre? Her majesty was most looking forward to a mani-pedi and the chance to purchase a discounted duvet, a postage stamp bearing her image and gifts for the heirs, while His Majesty could not even eat cake or enjoy a senior’s refill of coffee or soft serve. Instead, their majesties were forced to endure daily functions with sycophantic LNP grifters and squirming Labor communists.
Finally, why were effigies of Daniel Andrews not burned nightly in remembrance of Dictator Dan’s decision to cancel the 2026 Commonwealth Games?
The resulting and palpable disgust permeating Buckingham Palace has led to the regrettable decision to deny subjects of the Eastern Suburbs the blessed presence of their majesties for the foreseeable future.
First published in The Beast magazine, November, 2024
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