Friday, 12 April 2013

The death of Margaret Thatcher at Louis Tussaud's House of Wax

It was after hours at the waxwork museum in Great Yarmouth, and news was filtering through that Margaret Thatcher had shuffled off this mortal coil. Neil Kinnock and Harold Wilson had to stop themselves from punching the air, while John Major was, as usual, very restrained. "I'm sorry to hear that you're dead, Margaret", he said.
"No you're bloody not", said Kinnock. "You couldn't stand the old bag".
"That's no way to speak of the recently departed", replied Major, tucking his shirt into his underpants. "She's the greatest peace-time prime minister this country's ever had"
"Bollocks, boyo", retorted Kinnock "Let's melt her down now".
Thatcher, who had been dozing, stirred in her seat. "I suppose I'll have to send out funeral invitations", she said. "There's always a problem of who to invite, and who to not invite..."
"Can I come Margaret?", said Major. "Please?"
"Well you can count me out", snorted Kinnock.
"And me", called over the Queen, who was sitting in an adjacent tableaux.
"I'm afraid you've got to come, ma'am", replied Thatcher. "It would be the least you could do". She called across to Hitler and Mussolini. "Adolf...Benito...are you free next Wednesday? It's just that I'm thinking of having a little funeral, nothing fancy, and...well, the more the merrier..."
"Darlink, jah!" replied Hitler. "How divine!"
"And I'll be there too", said Mussolini, whilst examining the new Paolo di Canio tattoo on his arm.
"Winston? - How about you?" asked Thatcher.
"Suppose so...will there be whiskey?"
"Of course. Ronnie...dear, dear Ronnie. And JFK, too...I'm having a little funeral next Wednesday, and it would be lovely if you could make it".
"We'll be there", Presidents Reagan and Kennedy responded in unison.

Soon most of the waxworks had been invited to the funeral, and had accepted graciously. Michael Barrymore had offered to provide the entertainment afterwards, but had been politely declined. Kylie and Jason, Posh and Becks, Noel Edmonds and Frank Bruno were all going, adding a patina of glamour to the occasion, and even Neil Kinnock had relented, indicating that he would be turning up after all.

We will never see her like again.

No comments:

Post a Comment