Reporter: I believe you’re the proud father of a bonny boy, Your Royal Highness.
HRH: Of course I’m the father. What are you implying? Don’t forget I was in the Armed Forces, chum. My hands are lethal weapons.
Reporter: No, no, so sorry, Your Royal Highness. I just wanted to congratulate you on behalf of the British people, since you’re now a dad for the first time.
HRH: Well, as far as I know it’s the first (chuckles)
Reporter: Oh, very good, Sir. So how does it feel? Were you present at the birth?
HRH (goes pale): I was.
Reporter: It must have been a marvelous experience.
HRH: You think? Ever been present at a birth?
Reporter: Apart from my own, no, Your Royal Highness.
HRH: Well let me tell you, it’s enough to make a man a vegetarian for life.
Reporter: But you enjoyed the wonder of a new human being arriving.
HRH: Well it was sort of bearable after they took the thing and cleaned it up a bit.
Reporter: Did you get to hold the baby?
HRH (chuckling): I try never to be left holding the baby!
Reporter (chuckling back): Oh Sir – you are a one. And of course this is the first mixed-race baby in the Royal Family.
HRH: Well, as far as I know (chuckles)
Reporter: Oh Sir – you are so…What about a name?
HRH: What name? You mean the thing in Berlin, where my pater is reminding the Jerries that we used to be Saxe-Coburg-Gotha and that England and Germany are good mates really. That what you’re driving at?
Reporter: No, no, Sir – I meant the new Royal Baby. Have you and your wife thought of a name for it yet?
HRH: Not yet. Actually we’re thinking of putting it to a national referendum – I thought that would be a good wheeze.
Reporter: And will you be a hands-on dad?
HRH: How d’you mean?
Reporter:Will you be helping with feeding and nappy changing etc?
HRH: For God’s sake, man! Meghan’s built for the feeding thing, not me! What kind of plonker are you?
Reporter: Sorry, sir. And nappy changing?
HRH: We have six nannies. I am a stranger to poo and that’s how it will stay. I mean, have you smelt that stuff?
Royal Coach: OK, guys – that’s enough for now, Take five…Your Royal Highness, that was a wonderful rehearsal. But can we have a little chat before you go out to face the press for real? One or two teensy details we might want to look at . We’ll nip into my office.
HRH: Oh bloody hell. I was hoping to have a bit of champers and cigars with a few of my mates.
Royal Coach: So sorry, Sir. But it is for your own protection.
HRH: I don’t need protection. My hands are lethal weapons… Make it quick, then. Bloody hell. Nobody told me being a dad would be such a pain in my royal arse. My Royal arse – get it? Eh? (Chuckles as they exit)