It’s Official ! The British are the best in the world at queuing! Apart from that is, Rosena & Jamie Brookes-Ray from Playford nr, Ipswich, Suffolk who joined THE WRONG END OF THE QUEUE on their pilgrimage to London to say farewell to the late Queen Elizabeth II.
By Royal Correspondent Lorraine Fisher.
Britannia Rules the Universe!
Ever since their victory over everyone in the second world war, the British have always known themselves to be the best at everything! Whether it’s knitting clothes for garden gnomes, peeling onions, or leaving the EU, no one does it better than the brilliant Brits!
Above else, queuing, has long been recognised as our national sport – at which we are the undisputed champions of the world – probably the universe.
Dim Holly Willoughby
We Brits first started queuing back in 1250 A.D. when the first stocks were invented. The first example of queuing is mentioned in the Domesday Book which is a bit like the bible but about Britain rather than Jesus.
Apparently, a blind peasant named Dim Dick Willoughby from Ipswich, England’s oldest town, was walking to the stocks one day, on his way to be pelted with rotten tomatoes.
As he zig-zagged to the stocks, sightless Dim, who had been out collecting holly leaves for his dinner, was concentrating on counting the fingers on his hands and consequently wasn’t looking where he was going.
Then, disaster struck! Failing to see black village blacksmith Mr Everton Smith waiting patiently at the stocks in front of him, he inadvertently bumped into ‘smithy’, who turned around and remonstrated with him.
“J’accuse!” (meaning “I accuse you” in old English) said French Smith to English Diccck. That is where the word ‘queue’ comes from.
Tut, tut, tut, Schofield & Willoughby
Our world-leading queuing skills have never been better demonstrated than by the incredible human snake of bereft Brits hanging around to see our late Majesty lying in state.
It is estimated that around half a million grieving Brits have joined the back of the queue since it formed a few days ago.
This figure, of course, doesn’t include broom-cupboard custodian and public nuisance Philip Schofield and his televisual fag-hag, and descendant of Dim Dick, Holly Willoughby, whom everybody knows (despite their pathetic denials) pushed in at the front of the queen’s queue.
Being only half British and half Zealander, Schofield has an excuse, but Willoughby ought to know better.
Mental Fatigue and General Incoherence
Yesterday, Rosena & Jamie Brookes-Ray were walking along the Thames embankment heading towards Westminster when they spotted the now famous queue of millions of bedraggled mourners, exhaustedly stumbling, crawling, or wheeling themselves ever onwards.
Due to the queuers’ mental fatigue and general incoherence, Rosie & Jim spotted an opportunity to join the front of the queue without being noticed.
“We knew what we were doing was wrong, but we had come to London to take in the atmosphere and pay our respects so we thought… f*ck it let’s just push in, no-one will notice.” said a shameless Rosena. Husband Jim added “It was all Rosie’s idea. I didn’t want to do it. She made me.”
Deftly slipping into the slow-moving and unorderly mass of bodies, the two patriotic well-wishers believed they were soon to experience what thousands of others had deservedly experienced before them… without the 10-hour wait!
Inny or Outty?
However, proving that cheats never prosper (apart from Schofield and Willoughby) the two realized that rather than joining the HEAD of the queue into Westminster Hall, they had in fact joined the queue EXITING the hall.
“I suppose we got we deserved… nothing!” said a red-faced Rosena. “Two bloody miles we walked in the WRONG direction. I
told her you needed a coloured wristband that you could only get at the start of the queue – but she never listens.” moaned husband, Jim – something else that the British are best at.
