Green Shield Stamps, Nobs and Clubs

Her Royal Highness The Princess of Hearts is in the news again, as it's been 100 years since she died in the Channel Tunnel. We have been reading a lot recently in the Brit press here, about her two sons, the Princes of Clubs, raving it up on the south coast of England and in London. I think they kept Harry away from Iraq because it was considered that he could be more use patrolling the mean and dangerous streets of Bournemouth on a Saturday night... he certainly got in plenty of practice... I met the Princess on more than one occasion when I nipped up to Sandringham, Highgrove or Buckingham Palace to see her mother, a woman known to us all as The Queen of Great Britain, The Colonies including America, Most Of The Rest Of The World and (after July 1959) The Moon.

I was Deliverer of the Queen's Stamps, an ancient and venerated office which they told me when I started had been held before me by no less than Sir John of Klees, Sir Michael of Palin, Lord Bentine of Potti, Sir Robin of Loxley, most of The Knights Hospitalers of Ni and a woman Marl once met in the Post Office in Surbiton whos daughter had been out with the Prince of Wales before he was married.

Her Royal Majesty of Great Britain and the Holy British Empire is an avid collector of stamps, and spends most evenings in her secret vault in the bowels of Buck Palace poring over her collection using a very large magnifying-glass. It all began in 1970, when the Queen popped into a Shell filling station get a gallon of 5-star leaded petrol for her Daimler limo. When she handed over the shiny brand new 50p piece with her face on it to pay for the tankful, the colonial Petrol-Wallah humbly asked her (from the floor where he was kow-towing of course) if Her Gloriousness would like some Green-Shield Stamps. After explaining that if the Queen bought just less than a million and a half gallons of petrol, she could send the stamps off to Green Shield Hong-Kong Imports at Kowloon, and they would send her a hair-dryer, or a wardrobe made of paper.

This interested Her Loftiness so much that on this occasion she didn't have the colonial and his family sent to The Tower to die horribly at the hands of her torturer, Sir Paul of Kintyre, who was known to kill his victims slowly by singing John Lennon songs at them backwards until they renounced the Devil. Instead, she began on that day what was soon to become the world's most prized and pointless collection of trading stamps in the history of stamping... I will continue the story of Queenie's stamp collection, and tell you about how I saved it from destruction during the Iranian Embassy Siege of 1890 after I have had a little pick-me up and a sleep...