[ WP ] You just discovered England 's biggest secret : every time they say long live the queen it extends the queens life .

`` Bond?'' 
 
 `` Your majesty?'' 
 
 `` Do you think it is time?'' 
 
 `` Time for what, your majesty?'' 
 
 `` You know, do n't you think it is time for me to disappear?'' 
 
 `` Um... Why do your majesty say that?'' 
 
 `` Oh, do n't be bloody dense, my dear.'' 
 
 `` Well, no one in this great country would wish it.'' 
 
 `` Bond. If you do not drop the formality, I would have to take away your biscuit rights here in the palace.'' 
 
 `` Oh, your majesty, I would n't want to see that happen. Well, your majesty's reign is... rather long....'' 
 
 `` People are going to suspect, the obvious.'' 
 
 `` Long live the Queen.'' 
 
 `` Oh shut up! Yours are n't worth more than anybody else's. There's enough to last me for tens of thousands.'' 
 
 Bond runs his palm on his silk blend Tom Ford, feeling the particular texture of the fabric, then bends forward for the biscuit, the tenth one if entering his wide open mouth. 
 
 `` Nah-uh.'' 
 
 `` Oh, I am sorry your majesty,'' He picks it up and quickly pops into his mouth, nodding his head while chewing heartily, particles flying here and there, `` well, you said not to be too formal, ma'am.'' 
 
 `` Have you went over the details for Watford?'' 
 
 `` What? Why now, ma'am?'' 
 
 `` Are we clear to proceed?'' 
 
 `` Do n't your majesty think it is still tad too early?'' 
 
 `` No, I think it is about time for me to depart. Even an old gal needs some fun. The reports suggest a possibility now, no?'' 
 
 Bond pops another biscuit. 
 
 `` Maybe you should be called biscuit-man from now on.'' 
 
 `` Good call, ma'am. Operation Watford is a go. You say the word, and we start right away.'' 
 
 `` Run it over for me, dear.'' 
 
 `` Yes, ma'am but one more biscuit first?'' Bond smiles, the wet sludge of buttermilk biscuit covers the crevasses of his exceedingly unnaturally white teeth with a thick uneven veneer of yellow. 
 
 `` Oh god, you are an insufferable cunt you.'' 
 
 `` My god, It is such a great honour to be called a cunt by your majesty, my fair Queen.'' 
 
 `` Get on with it, biscuit-man.'' 
 
 `` Well, first we go to the Tower, get the Jewels, the Crown and the lots. Your majesty get on them fabulousness and we go to the basement, unit 316. The priest man will be waiting and off we go into the warp.'' 
 
 `` And then?'' 
 
 `` Well, then we just reap the reward. Her highness the Princess of Wales had taken cared of everything already. For the most part any road. She already infiltrated the Eldars, I think she is now an Autarch, if you could fancy that. Excellent spycraft. She is pretty much like a Queen now. Jealous?'' 
 
 `` You know I do n't do jealous.'' 
 
 `` She already stole that tarot, the Imperium of Man is just getting wet bottoms with Chaos out of the Warp again now that he ca n't read shite, the balance of power being broken and all. Massive civil war plus galactic wide invasion by the baddies, your majesty would be just in time to reap the reward.'' 
 
 `` Oh Diana, that child has outdone herself again. What a sweet dear.'' 
 
 `` Indeed, sucks you had to bear all the squinty eyes for it.'' 
 
 `` The Crown will absorb all the power?'' 
 
 `` It will. The priest-man confirms it. That throne is getting rusty I say, with half a corpse on it for millennia and what not.'' 
 
 `` You all are absolutely sure it will work?'' 
 
 `` Of course, being sure is our job. Time for your majesty to have some fun and you know, it is about time we give poor His Royal Highness, the Prince of Wales a chance to have some excitement at least and at last here on good ol' Earth, if he ca n't ever be heir apparent to the Golden Throne, that poor chap. Another cuppa, your majesty the Goddess Empress of Man?'' 
 
 `` No tea for me, soon I'd be drinking blood by the look of it.'' 
 
 `` Oh you will, ma'am, soon we'd be letting them choke on their own bloods, gurgling and what not. Good timing I say, Goddess Empress of Mankind.'' 
 
 `` Will I see my youth again?'' 
 
 `` Oh what's wrong with now? You look more regal with age.'' 
 
 `` Oh really, that out of the filthy mouth of a womanizer? I expect better.'' 
 
 `` Of course, but what can a man do now that he is the biscuit-man? But to answer your majesty's question, all the time, but I think you'd have to wait. Her Royal Highness, the Princess of Wales is working on it and I heard she is getting close, some ancient Eldar secret or some bollocks like that, Dog's bollocks and shite, I mean. You will be able to go as young as you wish. I'd love to see you in your nappies to be brutally honest... Ma'am.'' 
 
 `` Cunt.'' 
 
 `` Wait, who? Oh, yes?'' 
 
 `` How would I be accepted?'' 
 
 `` By the power of the Crown of course. I think the crown would, let's just say persuade strongly of their allegiance. That for Men really. Orks, easy, just more dakka than the next bloke and you'd be fine. I am sure for Chaos, just break that arsehole Khorne's face and their fanboys should submit. I do n't know. There's too much shite. I'd ask the priest-man for them lores for your bedtime reading, ma'am. Well, lookie. You are blessed by God, your majesty. Else, why do n't you ever die, we the people channeling your name all day everyday. Long live the Queen! You are chosen of course. This is the moment you are waiting for. You are to clean the filth of the 41st millennium. You know His command right? He talked to ya?'' 
 
 `` Of course. But I wonder why the 41st millennium?'' 
 
 `` That's the fun part, you get to figure it out, God's chosen one. Wait, we are supposed to call you Goddess Empress of Mainkind so you basically will just become a god? What's your majesty's rank in godhood then? God wo n't be angry about that or is that just part of your cover?'' 
 
 `` Oh Bond, stop pestering me with more questions. Alright, let us go now. I am ready to proceed.'' 
 
 `` We go right now?'' 
 
 `` Yes, cunt. We go right now. No rest for the wicked.'' 
 
 Bond stands, running his palms rapidly on his million dollar Tom Ford, brushing his shoulders, dusting off any particles of biscuits. Making circular jerking motions by his teeth with his mouth closed, he attempts to get rid of what is becoming an addiction to his oral cavity. The Queen rests her forehead in her wrinkled but delicate fingers sighing as Bond starts to make funny faces, seemingly trying to loosen his facial muscle from tightness. 
 `` You cheeky barmy bastard, if this continues, I would have to revoke your license to kill.'' 
 
 `` Shite, Bob's your uncle! I love it when you talk dirty your majesty, even a goddess got ta show off her attractiveness with words.'' 
 
 The Queen lifts an arm palms up toward Bond. Bond moves quickly to hold it and the Queen rises. 
 
 `` Tis' time to kick some arse, your majesty. Any chin wags or do we go straight to faking your death?'' 
 
 `` No, I'd think it is the appropriate time to die now, today.'' 
 
 `` And rise again from the ashes, do n't forget, ma'am. So how would your majesty like your death? Explosive? All conspiracy ladden fun for centuries? Old boring heart attack? Beheaded? Or...'' 
 
 `` Shut your mouthtrap. Just go natural.'' 
 
 `` Of course, because you are worth it... Ma'am.'' 
 
 `` Wish me luck, Penguin.'' 
 
 `` Best of British, long live the Queen!'' Bond winks with exaggeration, coupled with an open smile that shows his gums to the upper teeth. 
 
 The Queen, silent, assumes her usual air of serene calm and seriousness, holds out her elbow. Bond weaves his arm and locks with hers and the two begin towards the neo-classical double door of the Queen's private quarter. 

