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Charles: For the love of heaven, what is that beastly smell?
Camilla: It's Prince George's biggie. He just finished his lunch.
Charles: Can't you do something?
Camilla: Sedrick (butler) is bringing rubber gloves and an apron. Should I order you
a mask?
Charles: No, just get it done. Oh no, oh no! He just vomited over my velvet
slippers. It's vile - it's green.
Camilla: It's just peas, Charles. Kate said to give them a try. Here's Sedrick now.
Help me get the Prince out of the highchair, would you, Charles?
Charles: Sedrick, I need a wet towel right away.
You know I have a bad back, Camilla. I can't lift him - he's a load.
Camilla: And I just had my nails done. Come on, give me a hand.
(they both lift Prince George)
Charles: Stop squirming, son! My god, he's heavy. I can't hold him.
(Prince George and Camilla fall sideways onto carpet)
Holy Queen Mother! Are you hurt, Camilla?
Camilla: (slightly winded) George fell on top of me. Get his doctor!
(Prince screaming on top of Camilla)
Charles: Where is that nanny when we need her? Where's Sedrick?
Oh, there you are, Sedrick.. There's been a fall. Summon the Prince's
doctor immediately.
Not a word of this, mind you!
(takes wet towel as Sedrick retreats again for doctor)
Take deep breaths, darling. The Prince will be fine. He had a soft landing
on that lovely bosom. (Prince George's cries turn to whimpers)
Up-a-daisy, now.
Camilla: (on her knees, handing Prince George to Charles)
Oh, my nails are ruined! Where is that nanny?
Sedrick: (reappearing) The doctor's on his way. I'll take the Prince to his nanny.
Charles: And do something about that odor, will you, Sedrick?
Some spray, perhaps?
I need to calm down. Where's the paper, Camilla?
Camilla: I need to get an appointment with my manicurist.
Charles: (scanning paper)
Look at this, Camilla! They're in Brooklyn, of all places, for some brutish,
smelly game. There's a monster with his arm around Kate.
Didn't he get the protocol sheet?
Camilla: (looking at news photo)
She's making the best of it with that smile. Always a good girl.
William doesn't notice - his eyes are on Beyonce.
Charles: Leave it to the Yanks to create a tempest.
Camilla: We didn't need a Yank to create a tempest, did we now, Charles?
Charles: Don't go there, Camilla. Here they are at a gala. I wonder what that
frock cost the Treasury?
Camilla: It's elegant and covers her baby bump. Frumpy's all you get in
The Pretty Pregnant Boutique here.
Charles: Maybe the next one won't eat like a gargantuan or poo like a horse.
Camilla: Her stylist outdid herself with those five 'do's. Are they going away again
soon?
Charles: If they must, we'll be heading off in the opposite direction!
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