God Save the Queen!
by Revilo P. Oliver
THE PART-JEWISH Heir Apparent to the throne of Little Britain, Charles, Prince of Wales, had until recently a confidential body servant named Stephen Barry. Early in October 1986 Stevie died of Immunity Deficiency, and, according to The Sun (London), 9 October, the pervert’s demise has created a kind of panic in the households of the royal family.
A former senior footman in the Queen’s household told the newspaper that Stevie’s position as personal valet to Prince Charles made him the top dog among the servants in every household of the royal family they visited. At Buckingham Palace, he used to hold romps with the footmen in the evenings after the Queen’s dinner table had been cleared. Having the evangelical ideals of one variety of the “Liberation Gospel,” Stevie fought against bigotry by inviting very young men to parties on the Footmen’s Floor of the Palace, where, after appraising the charms of the several guests, “he would have his eye on a particular boy and you could bet that by the end of the evening the lad was legless with drink.” The boy was then carried to bed, where Stevie, in the words of an implicitly homosexual version of the Gospel of Mark, “taught him the mystery of the kingdom of God.” He probably also taught him the mysteries of the virus of Immunity Deficiency.
Stevie was totally promiscuous and copulated with all the boys and young men whom he could get, but, according to the newspaper, six of his special favorites among the male servants of the royal households, who are known in the footmen’s quarters by such sobriquets as “Polly,” “Bertha,” and “Kitty,” are so distressed by the untimely death of their lover-boy that they have identified themselves, but only two of them are willing to be tested medically to determine whether or not Stevie gave them a bonus token of his affection; the other four prefer not to know for certain. I am sure your heart aches with compassion for the dear creatures.
According to the former senior footman who was the newspaper’s informant about Stevie’s recreations, the Queen must have been aware of the vermin in her palace long before Stevie’s death. On one occasion, when a cute elf, garbed as a footman, came to serve her at the table, mincing and shaking its girlish curls, she bade it be gone. Queen Elizabeth II presumably thought that, even in the squalor of a Britain become multi-racial, a royal footman should try to maintain some superficial similarity to a man.
Englishmen (as distinct from the niggers and wogs with which they are filling their little island to please Jesus’s relatives) will now see a deeper meaning in the words when they intone “God Save the Queen,” a once noble hymn of triumph, now become shrill mockery as its tremulous and dying notes are carried away on the winds of change.
* * *
Source: Liberty Bell magazine, May 1987