The Queen Grants an Audience with Najib

Continuing on his whirlwind tour after the succesful meeting with the Pope, Najib meets The Queen in Buckingham Palace where the former complains of failing memory, family feuds, exciting new family members, local politics and lastly her likes and dislikes on Bollywood.  

NTR:        Good Morning, your Highness. I hope you are well and in the midst of your top-notch octo-degeneric... I mean in the best of your health.

Queen:   Oh, so so, I guess. My my. You’ve grown quite a bit, haven’t you, Jibby boy.  And look at that chubby cheek! When was the last time I saw you? Oh that must be a while back---right around the time when British Airways was still 50 pence a share, wasn’t it?

NTR:        That would be about right, Your Highness. I am so glad you are in top form. I just came in to reminisce on old times, and to really see how you’re getting on.

Queen:   Oh on the inside I am not really that well, Jibby boy. The royal bones are already rattling, you know. And I keep forgetting that I, after all these while, am no longer Emperor Queen of half the world under my colonial auspices. But ah… such is life, Jibby boy. You will realize that soon enough.

NTR:        Oh you worry too much, M’Lady. After all, look at the people surrounding you. They LOVE you.

Queen:   You think so? Well I hope so too. For example, recently that newly-begotten daughter-in-law of mine Diana, now she …

NTR:        Err… Your Highness, you really mean Kate Middleton, your GRANDdaughter in-law, don’t you?

Queen:    Yes. Kate! Kate. Ah what was I thinking? See what I told you, Jibby boy? The memory is failing and if it hadn’t for these Alzheimer pills… Well anyway this Kate Littleton or whatever that broad’s name is. Now SHE’s a babe, isn’t she Jibby? And my naughty Prince Harry just couldn’t get enough of her.

NTR:         You mean Prince William?               

Queen:    Willy, Harry, Charlie … they all look the same to me nowadays, you know. Hey tell me. How’s Rahman doing?

NTR:         Rahman, ma’am?

Queen:    Well your Prime Minister, for chrissake. The one who grappled your independence away from us.

NTR:         Oh you mean Tunku Abdul Rahman. Well, your Highness, I am afraid the Tunku is no longer with us. I am the Prime Minister now.

Queen:    What? Rahman Dead? Oh dear me. Has it been that long? And he still owed me 3 pounds 75 pence. Ah well, it doesn’t matter now. I remember I had this one hecka Prime Minister once. Can’t remember his name …Clair Bitch or Blair Witch or something. Well now HE was a good one, you see. Can you imagine? Equipped with some cooked-up dossiers, he managed to perform a genocide or two in the Middle East. Speaking of which … is it true you are practising genocide in Malaysia, Jibby boy?

NTR:         Genocide, ma’am?

Queen:    Well the Indians! The Hindraf group or something. I’ve got this legal suit letter, you see. Suing us for a trillion pound stirling. They claim that since the British brought them to Malaysia to work as coolies, snatching them from their comfortable living conditions in India, they have sued us for that amount of money due to what they are facing now.

NTR:         And they are facing genocide, did you say, ma’am? Well I don't know about that. I do know however that we the malays trail far, far behind the chinese and Indians in terms of wealth. One of the top billionaires is an Indian. And many more. Tony Fernandez is an Indian, the one who spearheads Air Asia.

Queen:    Air Asia led by Tony? I thought Richard Bran---well I guess I have my figures wrong then. But I really like that Air Asia thing, you know. But their cabin curry-puffs are a bit too spicy, don't you think? Tell me, do they have Christmas specials for Cayman Islands? I mean, like real dirt cheap special?

NTR:        Bbb....ut you are the QUEEN, ma'am. Why would you need some dirt cheap budget air tickets for?

Queen:   Hey! It's always good to pinch and save you know? Didn't your parents teach you that? After all it's not like I own the world anymore, or any of your tin mines or rubber plantations, if you catch my drift (nudge nudge, nudge). Anyway, well now what to do with that Indians, now that they are suing me. Can't you like ... ship them back or something?

NTR:        Oh we don't do that, ma'am. They are our dear and loyal citizens now. They are quite crucial for our nation-building. Besides, I don't think the situation there in India is any much better than what we have in Malaysia, you see. You know, with the caste system and all.

Queen:   Oh yes I know. Terrible isn't it. I still remember when I was a kid, all those great statesmen and giants from India: Nehru, Gandhi, Jinnah and all those people. Put our lawyers back then quite some task. Even in recent years they have produced some of the world's greatest people, still fighting for (or against) the caste system, I don't know which. Indira and Rajiv Gandhi. That Anand world champion chess player. Some Nobel prize scientists. But you can never guess who my favourite all-time Indian is.

NTR:        Rabindranath Tagore? Mother Theresa?

Queen:   Nope. It's Sivaji!

NTR:        Pardon ma'am?

Queen:   Sivaji, the boss! Why, haven't you heard of him?

NTR:        I must have, Your highness. I am not that really keen on Indian films, you see. Unlike the missus here. She's into Shah Rukh Khan.

Queen:   Uhhhh... I tell you. Shah Rukh Khan PALES in comparison with Sivaji. I mean, to tell you truth, I think he is better than Jean Claude van Damme, Terminator, Conan the Barbarian and Sherlock Holmes put together!

NTR:        Err, pardon me ma'am. But what is it again now, that you find Sivaji to be ... errr great?

Queen:   Well for one, he could defeat an army of thugs with little more than a pencil, fly and float over sky, sea and sand to get to his enemies, survive machine bullets and rocket-propelled grandes aimed at him, woo the most beautiful Tamil girls the Southern part of India has ever produced with both guitar and saxophone all at once, and still manage to croon a tune or two between three mountains, while changing into seven wardrobes. I mean, even Sean Connery is nowhere HALF of what that Sivaji could do!

NTR:        Err... I guess not, ma'am.

Queen:   Waaa.... I really enjoy that Sivaji fellow. I think someone's up to be knighted pretty soooooonnn... yeay yeay. Anyway, do you have anybody in your country who has that calibre, Jibby boy?

NTR:        Err we do Your Highness. In fact I think our man does one better: apart from acting, singing and joget lambak, he is also a politician and a darn good quick-change artiste. But let's not get into that, your highness. I DO have one nagging question that I meant to ask you, your highness, ever since I stepped in this morning.

Queen:   Well what is it?

NTR:        Why are you wearing yellow, ma'am? And why are you wearing a Bersih T-shirt? Are you mocking me and trying to tell me something?

Queen:   You're goddamn right I am. What is all this Freedom of Speech that you are trying to muffle in your country? Are you a democracy or what? And why are you so gung ho on stiffling dissent? Why do your police beat up the protesters, and why are THEY on the other hand behaving like a 3rd generation senoi, burning all those shop lots and all?

NTR:        Shop lots ma'am? I don't .... hey we don't do that. Surely you are just alleging without any proofs?

Queen:   Proofs? You want Proofs? I'll give you proofs. Cameron! Where's that pic we saw yesterday? Ah here it is.... look at this. How terrible! Are your police force this brutal?

NTR:        Err... ma'am ... that's a pic taken in Brixton.

Queen:   What? Shoot my dang! This Cameron is of no good breed. They say if you want things right you gotta have to do things yourself. Ok here then. This one. See how terrible things are in your country?

NTR:        Ma'am: that's a Vauxhall shop burning there. And no, we are not that brutal, though if we had to be just a tad bit more brutal than how our police force are behaving now compared to yours, we could probably achieve half of the dignity you are enjoying now.

Queen:   Ahhh... it's ok. Where are those pictures when you need one?

NTR:        But I do have one of my own here, ma'am. Here it is.

Queen:   What's this? The police are trying to poison the people?

NTR:        Not really ma'am They just thought that well, after all that shouting and protesting, if they would ever at all be hungry, well they could just land in for some briyani gam or something.

Queen:  My my, what a queer lot you are. But anyway, whatever you do, Don't ever, never ever replete that ISA laws that we installed for you. It works wonders, I tell you.

NTR:        Ma'am: that's what I am going to do exactly when I come back. And besides, with the communists gone I do not see any need for it at all, except,...uh ...perhaps we just might, on one little baby-faced fatso we have back home who's trying to magnify the communists. But ah, well...I think I have taken too much of your time. Won't you visit us in Malaysia just before you die or something. I mean when was the last time you came?
  
Queen:  It was during the Commonwealth Games. Waaa I really enjoyed it. Except then I wasn't looking forward to the games, you see. I was more into ... meeting with your old friend Anwar Ibrahim. Was just about to pay him a visit when they locked him up to be jailed for sodomizing or something. Well anyway, it's not that I am into faggots. But the creep deserved some hearing. Ok then anyway Best of Luck to  you and your people. And tell that Hidraf fellows: I will gladly give them their trillion pound or whatever if tehy could trade any Sivaji paraphernalia that they could find me ...


                 At this point the conversation breaks off due to some commotion outside. There were some Malaysian mob shouting if the Queen could get some kind of "Off with his head" thing with NTR. The Buckingham Palace guards showered them with some Water Jet laced with British pee. They all then bersurai ...





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