David The Drunk Buckingham Palace Guard

Part 1. The best part. Also the only part.

David had been posted on his regular guard duty at Buckingham Palace. He desperately wanted to venture out to his favourite pub, the 'Havin a party pub!', but unfortunately he needed this stupid, theoretical, quantified concept in order to have any hope of savouring just a sprinkle of alcohol: money. Often times he just stood there, like a stubborn bulldog waiting, questioning whether it was worth it to scratch that flea on his toe. HE REALLY WANTED TO SCRATCH HIS TOES. The florescent golden lights flooded the red-carpeted chamber with an eerie glow, the sound of a million corgis hounding at every door reverberating across the derelict room. It was blissfully boring... until it wasn't.

When David had come back from his coffee break, he was just in time to see a glimmer of black sprinting across the scene, and the gold-incrusted glass cabinet – which housed the royal crown – was empty! A glint of gold shimmered from the burglar's hands, before he suddenly flung himself out the conveniently placed window at the end of the chamber. THEFT! David knew that if he let that robber go, he would never step foot in a pub again. So, flying into action, he valiantly scurried halfway across the room, before noticing something off to the side placed on a withered pedestal. Jewels of vibrant colours climbed up an almost luminescent white blade, surely nothing less than the legendary Excalibur. David may need to arm himself, but before he took it, a wave of despair befell him! The sword's price tag said it was £3.99! David did not have £3.99, for he had spent the last of it on the glorious pub, and knew his next shift was not enough to pay it off. But for David, he knew that losing his job was far worse than minor theft, and so with his Friday nights in the balance, he swiped the sword and swerved to the end of the room.

As David leaped out of the window, a loud SPLASH sounded out as a pool of tea welcomed him on the bottom floor. Diving out of the murky brown, David pursued the robber, his feet moving at the speed of an old lady to the bargain bin. Suddenly, David saw the robber, climbing up a conveniently placed ladder to the roof of the palace. HE HAD HIM NOW! Not wanting to face his acrophobia, David slashed at the base of the ladder, parting it of its leg, as the foolish robber now came whirling down into the pool of tea.

As the robber appeared once more from the depths of the tea, David thrust the shimmering sword inches away from his throat. In the most masculine voice he could muster, he proclaimed "wat yas doin in 'er majesty's palace?". Coughing up pints of pukey tea, the robber stammered, "Ya don't understand. Ya'l never understand! SAINSBURYS STOPPED MAKING ME FAVOURITE DIGESTIVE BISCUITS!". David was stunned to silence. "I can't live without them, and if I was, like, the king innit, den I just tell 'em to make 'um again! BUT YOU RUINED IT! YOU'LL NEVER UNDERSTAND!".
"Clearly not", David remarked, but then remembered how much he adored alcohol more than anything, even Capitalism! So, in an act of mercy, he ripped the crown from the robber's crumb-ridden hands, and let him flee away into the night.

Grappling the symbol of British power in his hands, David thought of all he could do! He could become King, make everyone give him their money, and make all pubs open even for that one pesky hour at 4 on Tuesday afternoons! But he knew that would be wrong, and that cherished his life the way it horribly was. But there was one thing he had to do. To amend his past sins and the only way that he could ever possibly face anyone ever again! Rearing the crown upon his head, David declared his first and last decree: "That this sword I's stole is now £0.00!". Finally, he again was a compliant Capitalist citizen, and so went back and placed the crown back in its cage. Suddenly, the roar of his watch echoed across the room: His shift was over. Time to get his hourly wage of £3.98! David bolted out the window to the pub. Ah, Capitalism.