From the desk of Prince George…
Mummy says that Daddy is going to “have a werd with me” about the faces I pulld in Poland and Berlin, and at Aunt Pipper’s wedding when I was dressed like prize ninny.
Mummy says the idea was we must be on Best Behaviour with The Uropeens and that if Breksit goes rong then it my fault for being in a strop All The Time and stickin my hans in my pokets.
I say wot’s Breksit? Mummy say Breksit means Breksit. Groan-ups stupid.
And hav you seen my sister Sharlot? I thort I was important, wot with going to be king and all that. But no. There she is, typikal gurlie, with her ickle-pritty face being goodie-goodie at all times and suck up to The Uropeens. Mummy says I shud take a good look at how Sharlot behave. I said don’t want to cos I don’t like her anymor.
Just becos I have a little sulk, she behaves well, and make me look Bad.
Wel, just wait until I get her alone and I shall do something horible to her, like put a tadpole in her porage or ticlin her until she is sic. Boys is best eckcept for fotherington-tomas, who is much like a gurl and is as wet as my sister. So she better wotch out, cos I am jolly angry and mean to get even.
And why does Mummy still carry my sister evryware? Nobody carries me now.
Life is very Unfair!! (With apologies – as before – to Molesworth)