David Cole is a Hack!

Fit the third: Whovian

  Today is the day of Prince William and Kate Middleton’s marriage. This is, apparently, a big deal, as I’ve heard more about Britain in the past two weeks than I had throughout all of my World Civilization classes. As a caveat, it may be worth noting that these classes kind of gloss over the British, save during the Revolutionary War – I blame the media.

   What we should be talking about is how important this is to us, America! It isn’t. But it’s still kind of a cool thing that doesn’t happen that often, a royal wedding. A princess bride type deal. Sort of. Kate Middleton isn’t a princess, unless she’s the princess of Berkshire, in which case she’s probably hiding the fact and I don’t blame her. Burn.

   In celebration of the event, I’ve composed a poem about just how much I care about this wondrous event, peppered with my own special style of honorary British pedantic:













The End.

   Double burn, redcoats. Look, though, all I know about Britain besides their laughably pathetic grip on colonies (triple burn) I have learned from the BBC television series Doctor Who and this one time when I got into a fight with one of their Prime Ministers. I’ll give you a second to guess which on. It was Margaret Thatcher. And she hits – hard. They don’t call her the Iron Lady for nothing; she’s got a more powerful left hook than Tony Stark. Point made.

   Apart from that, I’ve assembled that Britain’s a wonderfully magical place inhabited by refugee aliens, robots, and a woman who looks remarkably like a horse by the name of Billie Piper . Yeah, it’s a trippy place, man. Besides that, I’ve been informed of the British capability to travel through both space AND time and the ramifications of doing so. It’s almost like you people don’t realize just how dangerous they are! The British have developed the ability to regenerate their bodies after death , claiming to be able to do so at least thirteen times!

   But how does this tie back into the wedding? That’s the best part. The wedding is a diversion. They know that we Americans feed off of romantic drivel, having gobbled down hosts of romantic comedies for decades. See, as the tele-cast of the wedding begins at 3 a.m., and the majority of Americans are exhausted from a difficult Thursday’s work, they’ll move their regenerating, time-travelling soldiers into position and invade! It’s going to be Revolutionary War II: Revolution Harder up in here! The British are going to attack with their robot dogs  and alien allies and there will be no hope! We have to assimilate with the British or face extinction.

   I’m signing off and prepare for the eventual Tea-Day invasion. A’right, guv’nor? Pip pip! Look a’ tha’, it’s the big clo-ck. Big Ben they calls it, ‘ey? Yea.