I can say no more.
I will say this, though: "constitutional" monarchy, my arse. Not when an offhand remark by His Britannic Majesty to his half-human, half-cyborg trained assassins that he wishes that "someone" would "take care of that moronic jerk who keeps writing those ridiculous things in my Wikipedia article" leads to the proximate arrival of a squad of these abhorrent beasts at my flat, where they proceed to kill (and eat!) my family and force me at spearpoint to remove my material from the Defender of the Faith's Wikipedia article.
Well, fine. Charlie wins this round. But just because I'm prevented from pointing out here that the Emperor of Evil is a blood-drinking, shape-shifting reptilian humanoid from Alpha Draconis and that Balmoral Castle is the nexus for an international ring of wigwag smuggling, vegetable counterfeiting, plug abuse, frog extortion, and all-round villainy doesn't mean it's not true. In fact, the very lack of any documentation for this only proves the depth of the conspiracy of silence around this matter. If it's not true, why have they to gone to such lengths to destroy every shred of evidence?
I've said enough. I can say no more.
Except for this: if you want to believe that the King's Guard is merely the quaint tourist attraction pictured in the brightly-colored Baedekers, you're living in a fool's paradise.
In point of fact, they are ruthless half-human, half-animal killing machines (some almost four yards tall), bred in the dungeons beneath Sandringham House for the sole purpose of ruthlessly murdering Chuckie-Wuckie's enemies with their razor-sharp fangs and robotic steel arms. Don't be fooled by the cutesy tourist bit. That's just for the yokels.
Now I really have said enough. That's it. I can say no more.
Especially when a brace of the inhuman monsters now stands guard over me, on direct order of König Karl of Haus Sachsen-Coburg und Gotha — oh, excuse me, Windsor — checking to ensure that all my Wikipedia edits are satisfactorily laudatory toward the self-styled "Lord of Man". I'm only able to publish this missive because, for a brief moment, these two savage half-alien/half-pig mutations have briefly absented themselves. (One is in what remains of my bathroom, passing whatever noxious liquids these beasts excrete. The other is rooting through my larder, hoping no doubt to find some remaining undevoured scrap from the corpses of my erstwhile family to snarf into its loathsome pie-hole.)
I'm not complaining, though. This is the price one pays for proclaiming the truth about His Most Exquisite and Perfected Worship here on the people's encyclopedia. I can say no more. If one of these robotic killing machines returns and finds me writing this, it will surely be the en