(Extracted from my twitter stream over the past week)
My brain is going offline until next Tuesday to show respect during the Necroqueen's procession into the Western Lands.
After a short mummification there will be an economic (but not metabolic) recovery.
Meanwhile, I had a dream, and it went someething like this ...
* * *
Day 6 of Necroqueen mourning: the subjects are becoming restive, shuffling and whispering, expressing their disquiet about the teind of children who must be ceremonially strangled in order to power her passage into the afterlife (it has inflationary macroeconomic effects)
(Note that whenever a Royal dies, they sacrifice the servants. Also a sufficiently of widows, orphans, and cancer patients to power their ascent to lichdom, where they take their final undead form and join the unholy choir that endlessly praises Her Dread Majesty, the Necroqueen.)
Day 7 of Necroqueen mourning: the Channel Tunnel opens to accommodate the Queue. Mourners stretching halfway to Calais, weeping and throwing their children under the relentless steel wheels of the Eurostar juggernaut.
Day 8 of Necroqueen mourning: let us remember Her together!
The hymn for today is the dirge-like refrain of "On Ilkla Moor Baht 'at":
πͺ± ππͺ± ππͺ± ππͺ±
The worms go in,
The worms come out:
They go in thin,
They come out stout!
πͺ± ππͺ± ππͺ± ππͺ±
Newsflash: we interrupt these necrotweets to inform you that the previous social media coordinator has been terminated.
Day 9 of the Necroqueen's progression to the Duat and the operation to tag the sacrifices is proceeding satisfactorily. Volunteers have joined an orderly line, although there are a handful of disruptive elements. Their souls will be consumed last.

Day Ten of Necroqueen mourning: a convoy of ambulances will convey the heart of the Deceased to the Royal Brompton Hospital, where it must be weighed against the feather of Ma'at prior to implantation in the thoracic cavity of the Heir. Thus is the Monarchy transferred!
(On the length of the queue: I think it's something to do with the announcement that the 50 least enthusiastic mourners will be mewed up in the Royal Catacombs with her Maj, so the Necroqueen can paralyse and lay her eggs in them?)
WE FINALLY HAVE ENOUGH SACRIFICES THE CRYPT DOORS ARE CLOSING IΓ IΓ REGINA ELIZABETH PTHAGHN THE UNDYING EMPRESS ACHIEVES HER FINAL FORM TOMORROW PRAY TO BE EATEN LAST IΓ IΓ REGINA PTHAGHN

DAY 10,304,871 OF NECROQUEEN FUNERARY RITES
HIGHLIGHTS
The 10 millionth child tribute from the Venusian dominions has been delivered to the altar at Balmoral
28th Millennial Pyramid and Tzompantli opens tomorrow: Pr'm'r L'g'e warriors compete to be first sacrifice
The Royal Brood Chamber is now 8.2 kilometres long! The egg casings of Her unholy spawn would fill 11 supertankers (archaic measure of fluid volume).
The Martian rebel scum attacking our patriotic Lunar colony have been defeated. Mass execution of survivors to come!
The planet GJ 1214b has been zoned for terraforming! Glory to Her Undying Majesty! It shall be renamed Prince Andrew and a budget for relocating the indigenous population by means of peaceful relativistic impactors has been allocated to the Imperial Expansion Committee.
A million more days of celebratory funeral rites have been unanimously approved by Privy Council! A million more days for Her Undying Majesty, the Dark Sun whose Necrotic Radiance never dims! The black hole who outshines Diana, the star of England! Glory! Glory! IΓ€! IΓ€!
* * *
PS: this entire thread was a thought experiment about the sort of thinking Sir Lindsay Hoyle's extraordinary news interview the other day embodied, when he said: "we should not let anything overshadow the most important event the world will ever see and that is the funeral of her majesty." What would it take for him to be right?
(Original video of Hoyle's statement in case you don't believe it's real.)
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