The royal exchange
Season 3 of The Crown is coming in 2019 but it’s all change for the cast. So what does an ex-Royal do in the screen trade? We pitch some highly unlikely scenarios
e queen is dead
Queen Elizabeth II was last seen on a black motorbike, somewhere in wintry Sweden: covered in tattoos, speaking in clipped tones and sporting a hedge-cutter hairdo. Of course, that wasn’t really HRH was it? is is Lisbeth, not Elizabeth: the girl who rights wrongs, the girl who hurts men who hurt women and the girl who never takes no for an answer. “Did you know I was only getting paid a fraction of my co-star’s salary?” she says to a man suspended from a ceiling. “I’ll pay you double” he croaks, although he hasn’t a clue what the woman with the funny accent is saying.
“ e world is not enough,” says cat-woman.
“No,” says the man.
“Wrong answer,” says the woman and pulls the cord.
A dog’s life
Reclining on a poolside lounger at the Chateau Marmont, a dog in designer shades recalls past glories. Beside him sits a large man with a notepad and taperecorder. Even to the casual observer the relationship is instantly recognisable as master and servant, but the reality is worse: one-time Hollywood star and washed-up hack. As the midday sun beats down mercilessly, the pooch, a Corgi of distinguished pedigree, answers his sweaty interlocutor in Limey tones. “Tell me again about the Queen,” he says. “Is it true that she used to feed you Beluga caviar and Dom Perignon?”
e dog takes o his Aviators and peers into the distance (being short-sighted, this is simply an a ectation, honed by a life of privilege).
“Once I was royalty. en I was farmed out to the highest bidder. ey wanted me to play a mongrel in Legally Blonde 7 and I once had to voice a cat for one of those infernal animation features.”
en the corgi lets out a primal howl, rent from his doggy soul and taken up by all the other faded dog stars of Hollywood as it rolls over the California hills.
Reach for the stars
On the island of Corfu, a man wearing a phone box, sits down to take a call. “Didn’t you used to be a Lord?” says the voice at the other end of the line, which is crystal clear even though it is coming from a galaxy far, far away.
“Well yes, I was once a Time Lord. But you know how it goes: once the men in suits see you in a box they can’t see you as anything else.”
“So that’s why you became another lord?”
“I was a duke.”
“Like John Wayne?”
“No like a royal duke.”
“Aha”
“But then I got to be a prince which was my crowning glory.”
On the other end of the line, silence, and then:
“How would you like to be an emperor?”
“You mean for real?”
“C’mon, this is the movies, nothing is for real.”