The highly anticipated return of our roving ex-royal reporter Ron Knee with his latest installment. For those wishing to re-cap the action so far, please review the prior volumes from the ISAC archives:
The Markles: An Everyday Story of Cunty Folk [Vol. 1] [Vol. 2] [Vol. 3] [Vol. 4]
The story so far; in order to compete with HM the Queen’s New Year’s Honours List, the Markles have decided to launch their own awards, focussing on those whom the couple feel have promoted causes important to them. Now read on;
“Kaaaaboom! Takka takka!” yelled Harry the Half-blood Prince excitedly, wheeling his games console from side to side. “Take that, you blighters!”.
“Fer Gaahd’s sakes Harry, hush ya mouth! Li’l Archie’s a-sleepin’!” hissed Meghan, throwing her nail file to the floor, leaving a menial to rush over and retrieve it. “What ya doin’ anyways?”.
“Just having a pop at the jolly old game dear grandpater sent me for Christmas” he responded sheepishly. It’s dashed good, called ‘Taliban Massacre VI’ dontcha know. See how many ragheads one can knock off. I’m on level two now. Reminds me of the good old days” he added whimsically. “Swannin’ about Helmers in the good ol’
gunship. Danger around every corner, life on the edge, wot?”.
The Duchess of Disdain’s thin lips twisted into a smirk of barely concealed contempt. “Life on the edge?” she sneered, “don’t make me laff. Ya couldn’t even take a dump without a company of SAS on hand ta wipe ya ass”.
“I say, that’s a bit harsh”, whined Halfwit piteously. “There were a lot of dodgy coves about in Affers. A chap couldn’t be too careful”.
“You! Fetch me an iced soy latté at once!” hissed the Sultana of Snarls at a hapless flunky. “Jesus H Chraast Harry” she continued. “Ya supposed ta be workin’ on a list of candidates fer our first honours list. Ah wanna get the jump on that ol’ buzzard of ah granmaw of yours, an’ New Year’s neary on us!”.
“Of course, my angel”, said the Duke of Dimness, hastily hurling his toy to one side. I have a list here. I remembered what you told me, about the nominees all reflecting our role as the Duke and Duchess of Diversity”, he added quickly, a cold shudder sweeping over him as Meagain’s eyes narrowed to slits and focussed on him like lasers.
“Mmm…okay”, murmured the Duchess menacingly. “Let me hear what ya’ll have come up with”.
“Ya, well”, muttered the Ginger Whinger, scratching his bald spot vacantly. “I’ve got Ellen DeGenerate and Sir Elton for starters, a nod to the tuppence lickers and shirt lifters, wot?”.
The Duchess’s head sank into her hands. “Holy shit! Lissen up, ya dimwit! It’s the ‘LGBT Community’! Cain’t ya geddit right fer once? We’re ‘woke; we don’t use terms like that, ‘specially when the servants are around!”.
“Sorrers old girl, force of habit”, muttered the Prince of Sighs lamely. “I am trying”.
“Yeah right, very trying”, snapped the Princess of Perfidy. “Continue”.
“Well sweetness, I thought we could put in Caitlyn Jenner. It’s (sorry!) they have been a great a great champion of the tranny cause. Next I’ve got Greta Thunburg, who’s been so vociferous in the environmental cause that’s so dear to us when we’re not whizzing about in a private jet. Then there’s Joe Biden. He’s going loopy, so that’s got the mental health angle covered”.
Megan sat back and crossed her sparrow legs, nodding thoughtfully. “Not bad so far”, she conceded, but ya ain’t covered all the bases. It’s all a bit…whitey”.
“No problem pumpkin”, said Halfwit quickly. “I’ve got Sir Lewis of Hamilton, who’s been banging on about BLM all year. Then there’s that darkie chap George Floyd, for his services to race relations…”.
“Yes”, she nodded. “St George, a posthumous award to a martyr for the cause. I’d say that ya ain’t as dumb as look Harry, ‘ceptin’ that ain’t possible. Look, we’re makin’ good progress here. We need ta get our p.r. people on it raht now”.
Suddenly there was a “hic” and a rasping fart from the cot in the corner, causing a flunky to materialise instantly at Meghan’s side with a bottle. “Ya took ya time”, snarled the Mistress of Malice venomously. ” Ah’ve a good mind ta fire ya. This bottle better be at the raht temperature, or it’ll be so much the worse for ya”.
“Burp!” said Archie into the shaking maid’s face as she handed him fearfully to Meghan. “Peasant!”,
The Duchess’s eyes widened in surprise and adoration. “Oh Harry”, she simpered.
“His first word!”.
To be continued.
Nominated by: Ron Knee
With a footnote provided by Quick Draw McGraw:
Let’s not make any mistake here. It’s not Meghan and Harry, it’s Meghan. She’s a scheming bitch For years, she was a fairly unknown z list actress. Then she came to London, allegedly with the intention of finding a rich, famous man to marry, and thereby bring lots of fame her way. It’s been claimed that she spent a long time asking if there were any rich, famous men available in London, then she literally struck pay dirt.
She married Harry, not out of love, but out of a desire for a title and status. Titles and status bring power. Now she’s a Duchess. And there is nothing more powerful than having royal status. Unfortunately, Harry’s head was turned by this scheming bitch and he has literally turned his back on EVERYTHING that he once held dear, including his family. Now, granted, there’s a pandemic, so a meeting in personal would be difficult, but the Queen hasn’t seen little Archie for over a year. You have to be a grade A cunt to deny one grandmother access to her grandson, when Meghan’s mother gets to see him all them time.
