Wednesday, May 27, 2015

The Queen's Speech Diary

Wednesday 27th May
Her Majesty is jigging around Buckingham Palace as she prepares for her short trip down to Westminster, singing as she goes: “The handbags and the gladrags that your poor old uncle had to abdicate to give you”.
Prince Philip is in full regimental dress, sword and all, but he woke up like that.

Her hat safely delivered ahead of her, along with the Sword of State, and the Cap of Maintenance, and the Feather-Duster of Justice, and the Stone of Miliband, Her Majesty departs for Westminster in her newest ride, the Diamond Jubilee Carriage.
Liz has pimped her ride out with bits of wood from the Mary Rose and HMS Victory. Take that Kanye!

Michael Gove, the new Lord Chancellor, walks down the Royal Gallery in full dress and with an austere face of fixed severity and concentration, as he thinks to himself "I mustn't look like I'm enjoying the feel of these tights. But I am."

The organisers are getting jittery. “Right chaps! She’s almost here. If you don’t have a stick, piss off. Remember, Britain would never have become great had it not been for men with sticks.”

Her Majesty is in the Lords and has sent Black Rod to summon the Commons.
And now it is time for the customary barb from Dennis Skinner to Black Rod…
But none is forthcoming.
There’s no other description for it: it’s a constitutional crisis. Never before has such a flagrant disregard for ceremony been seen. Skinner must surely resign his position as Heckler of the Duchy of Lancaster.

In the traditional awkward walk between the Commons and the Lords, Harriet Harman and David Cameron are silent before they decide that some small-talk might be good for the cameras.
“Bet you’re upset,” says Harman, “what with Sam Allardyce leaving West Ham.”

And here’s the speech. Her Majesty has to read some Tory spin – “One Nation", "Long-Term economic plan” and so on. Hopefully, one year she will just say “Who writes this shit?” She even has to say “Northern Powerhouse”.
She also has to say “Psycho-active drugs”, which was nice.

The Queen leaves the Palace of Westminster.
“One knocked it out of the park,” she chortles. “Back home in time for lunch, and then a bit of surfing on the dark net and some legal highs before the buggers get rid of them.”

The debate on the Conservatives programme for government starts. The Beast of Bolsover is in position, in front of a flock of SNP MPs, who are wearing white roses, declaring an unexpected fealty to the House of York.
Simon Burns (Conservative, Chelmsford) proposes the Humble Address as a response to Her Majesty’s Gracious Address. This really is how our government begins its business. Burns is a former Health Minister, and a current smoker, which is literally from the scripts of Yes Minister.
Harman begins her speech, describing herself and the Prime Minister as “self-declared Interim Leaders”, and tells him to beware of the blonde on the zip wire. Boris starts excitedly looking for this blonde, before realising that it is he who is being referred to.
Cameron, meanwhile, references the return of Alex Salmond. The former SNP leader raises his eyebrow and stares back at the PM, as if to say “Oi pal! Do you want some?”
In a lighter encounter, Cameron refers to Burns as gasping for a fag, a feeling that the Prime Minister knows well from his school days.
The SNP start performing the unparliamentary practice of clapping, and Bercow is having none of it, slapping it down. The SNP look like chastened school children, and as if they are plotting to put a whoppee cushion under the speaker’s chair.
Last scene of all, that ends this strange somewhat dull history, is second childishness and mere oblivion for Nick Clegg. Alone, squeezed next to the SNP, Clegg speaks for his party for the last time, a sad and distant figure. Not two months ago, he had his own question time. Now his speech is time-limited, and he has to wait for others to speak. He speaks after a man who led the most hopeless coup against John Major, after a woman who resigned for insulting white van men, and a full two-and-a-quarter hours after the debate began.
So, there he stood, defiantly speaking. Sans smile, sans office, sans seats, sans everything.

Events depicted may differ from actual events. In fact, this is a work of fiction, with some facts. But mostly, it's nonsense.