In a yellow submarine, purchased from the Rutles when the classic sixties band broke up, a sinister black clad figure leant back in her throne, lit a non-nicotine cigar and turned to her XO:
"Charles? Is the cultural torpedo ready and loaded?"
"Yes, Mumsy. It's full of rock and roll, satanist tracts, hard drugs and bad science fiction novels, as you ordered and as usual."
"Excellent. Launch on my command. One day, our evil plan to subvert America and destroy its civilisation will bear fruit."
"Incidentally, Mumsy, Wills thinks that we should strengthen the lock on the Duke of Glaswegia's door, given that he was swinging from the pipes naked again. Katey found it really outputting."
"Damn it. Why must euthanasia still be illegal back home?  Very well. Have you recaptured Prince Richard yet? Are the plans to marry him off to Princess Brigoletta of Ruritania still good?"
"He is gay, Mumsy. And Princess Brigoletta is a closet Valkyrie."
"You do realise how hard royal families to marry into are these days? Ah well, at least one isn't a rabid uncontrollable hysterical orangutan, unlike a certain other world leader."

"I'm pickin' up an alien cloaked submersible acceleratin' away from the east coast of the United States" Black Vulcan stated to his colleagues.
"Trouble. Did it fire anything at the coastline?" Mr Might asked
"Yeah, packed with British indie music DVDs, campy satanist brochures and enough drugs to light up the entire country for a year. Oh, and large numbers of L.Ron Hubbard crap SF novels."
"Damn it. Okay, some of those sound really cool, others are just badly kitsch anywhere but in the Southern United States or certain areas of Australia, and the others are just plain contraband."
"Actually, I kind of like L.Ron Hubbard novels..." Patriot admitted.
"I prefer Ayn Rand myself. Do we have the right to undertake a repressive statist raid merely in the name of policing other peoples interests in innocuous recreational substances? Isn't that a terrible, terrible infringement on individual freedom?"
Black Vulcan sounded alarmed: "Okay, there's a virus in me somewhere. Apart from the Ayn Rand references, Lady Liberty's ensuing sentence was actually cogent and respectful of civil liberties. Help me, someone!"
Green Canary looked up from the sensor: "Uh, folks? The missile collided with someone offshore. A... Wilfred. F. Burrows. Oh. That's weird. All the drugs have mysteriously vanished and Burrows vessel is behaving very erratically. Also, his radio broadcasts are going on at great expository length about heroin, morphine, ayahuasca, yage and his experiences in the fifties counterculture..."
"It looks like the missile's back on course. Okay, the music, pamphlets and bad SF novels are still there, though. Shall we intercept?" Captain Swift called.
"What about apprehending the Yellow Submarine?" Princess Power asked
"Well, they're in international waters and the Queen of England is a ruthless supervillain hellbent on world domination in this universe." Patriot replied
"Haven't you ever wondered why she suddenly turned evil? And why what everyone used to think were just conspiracy theories were proven absolutely correct?" Bat Woman said, as she prepared the Ginormous Bat Heavy Duty Laser for immediate firing. Lightswitch plugged it in and the room throbbed with heat and light as the beam  pulsated down toward the planet below, inadvertantly frying the embarrassing US submarine Seaview and sundry badly designed and plotted sea monsters.  Nevertheless, it narrowly missed the Yellow Submarine, which by now had entered Britain's territorial waters.

Still smoking the outsized monster cigar, Queen Elizabeth II clattered down the Buckingham Palace dungeon cell observation floor in high heels, her pack of corgi hellhounds snarling and hissing at her heels.  "Let me out, please!!! I promise I'll behave this time!!!" Princess Margarita pleaded.
The Queen ignored her dipsomaniac sister, stopping at the cell of the Duke of Glaswegia to insure her embarrassing gaga ex-husband was securely sedated and not adjacent to any potentially embarrassing microphones. And finally, she came to the holding cell of her most dangerous prisoner.
"Diana." The platinum blonde Amazon princess looked up icily at the Queen:
"Where's that sycophantic offspring of yours, Wracker of Windsor?"
"He was unavoidably detained with Camilla the Gorilla."
"Why do you tolerate that relationship?"
"Diana, Diana, Diana. It could have been so different if only you and Charles could have stayed married."
"She's a large anthropoid with a very low intelligence."
"I should know, have you seen the Duke of Glaswegia these days?"

At that moment, from the adjacent dungeon, sounded the crack of a whip and the sound of an addled version of the British national anthem


God save us from the  Queen,

She's malevolent, cruel and mean
God save us from the Queen:

She's never notorious, 
but evil and furious
Long has she inflicted herself on us
God save us from the Queen.



Worse, she has even  more

Renegade daughters-in-law

in her dungeons
Falling opinion polls

Charles taking up with 
Camilla the Gorilla (lols)
God save us from the Queen.



Not allowed to condemn

Theresa Mayday as PM

Can't make her fall:

Can't mess in politics,

Mention their odious tactics,

Or all those Tory Euroseptics
God save us all.



She has retailiated against
Tabloid intrusiveness

Pictures unkind 
Lord make their editors

Realise their mortal danger -

Given her links to organised crime
God save them from the Queen



She's living on and on

Seems like she'll never resign

God save us from  the Queen!

But our state's stately head's

husband, although he's braindead

has almost reached one hundred

God save us from the Queen!



May we always be safe from her stealth

And to our lasting regret
Stability bring.

But when she's popped her clogs

And Charles follows Mumsy,
Will we then have to sing
"God save us from the King?"

"Andrew?"
"Yes, Mumsy?"
"Take that lot out and have them shot. Wills, Kate, Harry and Meghan, any word on Prince Richard yet?"
"No, Grandmother. We've searched high and low for this hypothetical gay brother of ours, but he's nowhere on Earth."
"Damn and blast. Has he been rescued by aliens, one wonders? No, don't answer that, especially given that we are all in fact alien lizard shapeshifters from 61 Cygni's planetary system. Anne, what about the dosh from our last consignment of contraband to the United States?"
"A slight problem, Mother. It seems that it came ashore in the Southern United States. High illiteracy rates and inbreeding prevail there."
"Bugger. How did that happen?  Oh, never mind, I'm orf to do some subliminal hidden messaging in the next Royal TM Xmas broadcast. Edward, with me. Damn, damn, damn!"

Lady Liberty and Princess Power stood looking down at the hapless United Kingdom:
"Our third sister, Wondrous Woman, Princess Diana of Amazon Gwydaera, is somewhere down there, Dana."
"I know, Deborah. But we don't even know whether she's alive or dead. Mind you, much the same can be said about the Duke of Glaswegia these days."
"It's just a shame that Britain has that inexplicable advanced technology which shields them from a Freedom Brigade incursion or even an infiltration mission. It'd cause an international incident. And they have no metahumans of their own. Whatever happened to Miracle Balls, the Human Blair, and all those others?"
"Eaten by the Queen's ravenous Corgi hellhound hybrids, tragically."

Meanwhile, Prince Richard was locked in a closet somewhere. It was a rather foetid closet, which had once been the property of Phloop, the Duke of Glaswegia, the queen's slaphead accompagnist. He had used it to smuggle himself outside Wreckingham Palace and into a retrieval site. He took a chance and kicked the back out of the wardrobe, and finally was able to breathe again. He looked around him and realised that he must be in the United States.  Or, to be more precise, Peculiar Place, where Dirk Grierson and Hamish MacHunk were busy renovating their new cottage in small yellow speedos:

"Hello, gorgeous local guy candy. I'm Prince Richard, the hypothetical third grandson of the murderous and brutal Queen Elizabeth II."
"Heh. Sorry, mon, ah'm a republican an' Scots Nationalist. Whey do wae have to put up wi thet elderly feller as Duke of Glaswegia anyhoo? He's Greek."
"I'm still a fugitive from the United Kingdom. They want to marry me off to a ghastly woman from Ruritania, one of the few surviving European monarchies."

"La la la la la la!!!! I am Princess Brigoletta of Ruritania! And I am here to carry off my betrothed Prince Richard so we can be joined in holy deadlock!!!" 
"Wow, that was convenient. I'm signalling the other Freedom Brigaders, Hamish honey. Keep out of trouble and stay inside."
"Ha, manling!!! How can you stop a well-built Valkyrie Princess like me?! Oh. Ah, that's much better. Four adamantine staunch women warriors to combat me!"
Lady Liberty smiled: "Why thank you, Brigoletta, dear. It's equally inspiring to confront a powerful effective supervillainess of such prowess and skill as yourself."
"Ah. Not only are you staunch, but honourable women warriors.  I'm feeling increasingly reluctant about having to duel you, you should realise."
"Yes, but sometimes it is necessary, to prove our combat skills and self-discipline. What say we shake hands afterward?" Bat Woman offered.
"Done. Have at ye, sisters!!!" The glade rang with the sound of swords against bracelets, as Green Canary, Bat Woman, Princess Power and Lady Liberty took on their Valkyrie adversary.

Meanwhile, reminiscing was going on...

"Hang on, K'Lara. I have a mental imaginoscope image of the conditions that little Bar-Bel will face after we shoot him from Neon to Earth..."
"Whoooarrrr!!! Check out the build on that half naked hotty, the sweaty hair on his chest, the pointed man nipples, the concave ab muscles. Ohhh YEAH!!! And now he's stripping off those sweaty clothes and getting into a shower-"
"K'lara? K'lara? Ahem? I'll still here, you know?"
"Oh. Sorry, Dum-Bell. So, if we send Barb-Ell to Earth, then he'll turn into an utter stud like that piece of masculine pulchritude we just spotted on the viewscreen?"
"I'm beginning to wonder if that mental imaginoscope vignette was the best idea, K'lara. It's gotten you strangely overexcited...."

Sorry, wrong reminiscence. Meanwhile, Captain Swift had arrived from Off-Centre City to evacuate Prince Richard:
"Why do you never show up in Royal Family photographs?"
"They hid me away in a deep castle dungeon until I escaped. They wanted to keep me incognito until I was in my prime and marry me off to that woman-mountain."
"While our female contingent are doing the heavy lifting, suppose you tell me about Ruritania as well?"
"It's a highly aggressive Central European nation. During the sixties, it had its own cobalt bomb momentarily, then tried to declare war on Australia and Indonesia, and harrassed the United Kingdom over a young chap who had dual Ruritanian-British citizenship. It's only existed since the end of World War I, when it was an element of the Empire of Megalomania, until nationalism caused it to form its own political entity after Megalomania collapsed into depression and then fell to pieces. Since then, all of its Kings have been called Rudolf and have married Princesses named Flavia. Its intentions toward the neighbouring kingdom of Syldavia are deeply unfriendly and it has also interfered in the affairs of adjacent Freedonia, Carpania, Grand Fenwick, Ruthenia and Cagliostro.  Yes, I know, I hadn't heard of them either, but it's about the growing Royals Shortage as more and more countries turn into democratic parliamentary states. Basically, British Royals are forced to make merry with obscure Central European microstate potentates or face the possibility of inbreeding."
"Worry not, Prince Richard, I'll get you up to the Freedom Brigade satellite."
"Nice outfit. Are you single?"
"No, I'm afraid. I have a husband, Ira Allon."

Meanwhile, in Peculiar Place, Princess Brigoletta had just noticed her wouldn't-be potential swain had mysteriously vanished. Brandishing her Valkyrie sword aloft, she mounted her long-suffering pegasteed, Bellofferphon and took to the skies, bellowing in outrage. Hardly had she left when a more versatile supervillain showed up:
"Janice Pym, aka the Terrible TseTse Fly!!!"
"Hang on, she's from the Marvellous Universe. What's she doing here?" Patriot queried.
"Because this year, I'm alive, and I got fed up with the incessant male domination of that realm. The Queen is an equal opportunity employer, so I was hired to pull off this sting operation and retrieve Prince Ricky."
"Where's Largeman, your sidekick?"
"Hal's stranded on Jupiter at the moment, and will be until his lack of control over his enlargement ability ends. Besides, I'm more popular."
"You do realise we can do the stinger and bracelets routine, Green Canary can use her sonic screech and Bat Woman will deploy her regiment of Bat Girls and her technological edge against you?"
"Hey, we are part of this organisation too, you realise? Us guys?" Bowman interjected, frowning at the display of occupational feminism which had suddenly emblazoned itself across the narrative.  

"Look, can we appeal to your sense of sisterhood and call off this needless violent patriarchal dominance display?" Lady Liberty asked.
"No, and don't think you can squash me or use unfair sizist weapons as occurred with that low-rez Atom a few episodes back."
"Hey, we don't have a variable size metahuman. Please, consider swapping sides again?" Green Canary pleaded.
"Sorry, I'm not Kittycatwoman, I don't change sides when I see the flash of an angular pectoral or abs or a taut butt."
"Getting back to the plot, why do you want Prince Richard back in the Queens clutches?"
"I'm getting paid bigtime for this."
"But Janice, you're independently wealthy."
"And I get to marry into a collateral branch of Royalnesshood."

And so, battle was joined. Rapidly, it became a stalemate and Janice lay panting on an adjacent rock:
"You win. Damn damn damn damn."
"Janice, please surrender and we'll see what we can do about rehabilitation."
"And what would that be, given that the current occupant of the Blue House is a stupid, ill-behaved orangutan who bites people and throws his own excrement at them? He's illiterate, unintelligble and incontinent."
"Yes, but you're working for a ruthless elderly woman who single-handedly runs the global narcotics trade, World Wildlife Federation, writes terrible sci-fi novels and pumps out subversive rock music that undermines the moral fibre of our nation." Patriot huffed.
"She does not run the World Wildlife Federation! That was the Duke of Glaswegia!"
Lady Liberty realised what was happening: "Jabez, you're getting delusional and sounding like a tract from the Joe Burp Society, embarrassingly ragging on pop culture."
"And stop dissing our beloved anthropoid president!"
"Is Patriot having a Republicanism attack?"
"Look, I'm really getting tired of having to defend my political lifestyle. Republicanism is not a disease, mental illness, poison or anything pathological."
"It's okay, Jabez, buddy. We're a fairly tolerant bunch." Mr Might said reassuringly.

Meanwhile, the Terrible TseTse Fly had found her way to the FBUS teleportation tube and arrived at the satellite, where Lightswitch and Captain Swift were looking after the errant Prince Richard.
"Ah!  Only two of you! Excellent! I can now recapture Prince Ricky and get my dosh from Elizabeth II."
"No, sorry, dear, you took much, much too long with all that surplus expository dialogue. I'm going to do the deed myself. Knew I should never have employed one of those eternally contrarian Marvellous superbeings to do my henchperson work. Erk! Bat Woman!!!"
"Not so fast, Elizabeth II!!! I am here to undo your dastardly plot."
"What, by trying to make me nauseous with that twee dialogue?"  Queen Elizabeth II withdrew a large laser sword and smiled wickedly at the Capeless Crimefighter. Bat Woman unholstered her previously unknown Bat Sword, given that she had mastered such interpersonal combat in Heidelberg quite conveniently a decade ago, and the two women clashed as they fought for the custody of the errant Prince. "Just a moment!" Lightswitch said, interrupting the battle.
"What is it, Dirk?"
"Prince R. there can't be a royal grandson. He was born after Princess Diana/Wondrous Woman and Prince Chaz broke up! He's probably a multiple eyed betentacled elder god trying to precipitate a global conflict so it can take over the planet after it lies in radioactive ruins and all human life is extinguished."

And sure enough, "Prince Richard" vanished, to be replaced by a hideous multiple eyed betentacled elder god named Bob Chthulhu.
"Oh bugger. I knew I should have done this 40.000 years ago. Damn alarm isotopes and their unreliable halflives. Ah well, time to return to my eternal slumber. See you, everyone."
"Oh, this is so embarrassing. Right. One's back orf to one's palace. But we shall meet again, Freedom Brigade, of that be sure!!!"
"Do we let her get away with... absolutely nothing whatsoever, given that Prince Richard turned out to be an eldritch abomination? Hey, she's still holding Wondrous Woman as her long term captive..."
"Hello, it's me again. Look, thanks for rescuing me and I owe you a favour so..."
"Deborah! Dana!"
"Diana!!!" Lady Liberty and Princess Power chorused as they embraced the suddenly liberated Wondrous Woman:
"Well, that's a nice happy ending for the year's last case and just in time for someone's festive season of choice too!" Green Trashcan smiled.

THE END (and Seasons Greetings!!!)