By now we’ve heard about the rather feeble and desperate attempt of Mitt Romney to call upon Britain’s Special Relationship to save his stumbling efforts, with the not so subtle hints to throw the Games.
What hasn’t been heard is the role played by the Queen herself. Originally non-plussed over the presumptiousness of the request – after all, hadn’t he spent his missionary days in France of all places – she soon found a warm spot when she discovered Mittens had had dog trouble hounding him through his campaign.
Seems Her Majesty is a known dog lover in a land that adores the beasts, and had seen her share of dog distress when daughter Anne’s Bull Terrier had ripped one of her cuddly Corgis to shreds.
(Princess Anne had been cited for a dangerous animal the year before, but presumably those distractions mean nothing when you’re royalty, though now she’s permanently in her mother’s dog house)
So knowing she’d already planned to dive out of a helicopter with James Bond into Olympic Stadium, the Queen quickly surmised that nothing would infuriate liberals and humane societies more than volunteering one of her 7 Corgis to base jump with them from 8000 feet – certainly more daring than a simple ride in a dog carrier on a car roof.
But as the world watched 007 and Her Majesty leap into the wild blue (Elizabeth purportedly muttering “the things *I* do for England”) amidst rumors that Stadium Diving might be a new event at Rio 2016, something went horribly wrong.
The Corgi’s parasail – designed by the Bond special effects team itself to open remotely – failed to engage, and the perplexed puppy plunged perilously down at near supersonic speeds, it’s fluffy tan fur barely softening the thwack of the Thames waters below.
(Reports that the canine was further sliced and diced by David Beckham’s speedboat as it headed under Tower Bridge are presumed to be false and the product of someone’s sick and deviant mind).
But in the heat of the moment, oddly and sadly for such a lovable dog with so many years of devoted service, no one seemed to notice. As the world focused its attention on the first glimpse of the Queen’s exposed knickers in nearly 50 years (with some rude bastards asserting it was actually a cross-dressing poofter perhaps played by Mr. Bean himself), the dog’s demise went completely unnoticed.
In fact, as it was a late evening for all, it wasn’t until breakfast the next day when the Queen personally took roll call that she noticed Corgi head count down to 6. (She’d recently caught her staff serving re-heated gruel to her pups, so had taken a personal interest in ensuring they were getting a proper Beefeater’s diet at every meal).
A search of the waters found plenty of fireworks residue, with some matted waterlogged fur washed ashore, covering a set of bones seeming just right for a now lifeless purebred.
Thinking at least they could put such a worthless treasure to good use, the Queen’s staff offered Romney at least the remaining bones to keep the campaign happy (perhaps remembering Obama’s gift to Prince Philip of “Fell Pony bits, shanks & horseshoes”, thinking this is the kind of weird stuff Yanks are into).
But at this juncture, with all the UK uproar over gaffes about Olympics, outing MI-6, and dining with scandal-plagued banks, Romney was not interested – too busy trumpeting his upcoming visit to his old BFFs in Israel, to bask in that other Special Relationship.
Reached for comment, Netanyahu responded, “Romney? Sure I’ve heard of him – don’t think I’ve met him, but I know who he is.”
Sometimes you can’t even give a dog a bone. Or as Carl Lewis noted, some people shouldn’t leave home, with or without a dog.
*Note: as of 9pm 28 July 2012 GMT, between the opening and the first day of competition, the UK Games are going swimmingly.
Buckingham Palace released a somewhat cryptic statement: “Yes, we’re Ready. For the Games, for prime time, even to govern, as per hundreds of years. If you need advice, just call. HMSS”