Whoops Apocalypse Page #5

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Aaaargh!

We must keep the peace process alive...

Death to the Nazi junta! Aaaargh!

I want a session with both ambassadors

as soon as we're in Washington.

Welcome to Jacksonville, Florida...

Two more days

and we shall be in the Caribbean.

From here on, I want

every ship in this fleet,

every sailor, every soldier,

put on red alert.

We're about to enter

a potential battle zone.

Sir... a dispatch just in from London.

Buckingham Palace?

It's Princess Wendy. They want her transferred

off HMS Shropshire and onto this ship.

In secret, to foil the enemy.

Bastards! They should never have

let her come in the first place.

This task force needs a Royal Princess

in the Wrens

like an outbreak of typhus!

Not at all, Your Royal Highness.

We're delighted to have you aboard.

Basically, one wants to be treated like any other

ordinary nursing officer. You understand.

No fuss or favours.

Absolutely not, ma'am. Of course.

This is your cabin.

Thank you.

If those two medical experiments from the press

get wind of this, we've had it.

It'll be like throwing raw meat

to a pack of jackals.

Don't worry, sir. We'll keep

Her Royal Highness well under wraps.

They won't even know she's on board.

- Argh!

- As I thought, Your Highness.

Strangulated hernia in the groin.

It'll have to be surgery.

Shave him, would you, ma'am?

I'll be back in five minutes.

Aaaargh!

- Aargh!

- Aaaargh!

- Aaaargh!

- Oh, my God.

It's not the fact, gentlemen, that one

of my soldiers has just been horribly castrated

by a member of Britain's Royal Family.

It is not even the fact that,

in the blind panic that followed,

a pair of Liptons tea bags were erroneously

sewn back into the patient's scrotum...

...and not discovered until three hours later,

when someone was rinsing out the teapot.

No, gentlemen.

This was the real coup de grce.

This dispatch I found not ten minutes ago

in the wire room.

"Holy chopped meat! Princess Wendy

went whittling with a razor yesterday

and had a ball.

Yes, sirree. Another young soldier

waved goodbye to his loved ones,

as Her Royal Highness

went crazy with the cut-throat

during a routine pre-op shave

on Britain's flagship HMS Lion,

where she was secretly transferred... "

Oh, holy godfathers! Is there any more classified

information you'd like to broadcast to the world?

You are a liability

to every man and woman in this fleet,

and I'm having you put off this ship

at the next island we come to!

I hope they whip the ass off you!

Lousy, stinking mothers.

Jesus!

The main stories this Friday evening.

Edna Burkavitz, the woman who secured

a lock of Frank Sinatra's hair in 1955,

has today sold it back to him

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