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Red and White Shi-ite

By Richard Cunningham

Hasnat Khan is cooler than the Fonz.  Or so thought Princess of Hearts, Lady Diana Spencer, who, after going out with virtually everyone apart from me, Fred West and Larry Grayson, finally found love with the beefy moustachioed heart surgeon of, er, 'hearts'.  Following her husband's indiscretions - which included 'carrying on' with Mrs Camilla Stan-Bowles; allegedly getting Tiggy Legge-Bourke (where the fuck do they get these names?) up the Damian; giving his manservant, ahem, 'oral' (a whole new meaning to the 70's comedy phrase 'I ate you Butler'); and, basically, not giving a shit whether Di lived or died - she had clearly decided that what's sauce for the goose would be sauce for the gander, as it were.  Accordingly, she determinedly set to - Dire Straits blasting out of her Sony Walkman - getting jiggy with anybody who she set her eyes on and that she fancied.  The tabloid stories are legion; turning up at Chelsea art dealer Oliver Hoare's gaff wearing only 'diamonds and a fur coat'; sending Will Carling a snippet of her 'lady garden' in a jewellery box to persuade him not to go out on the piss with the first 15 (or however many there are in a rugby team); and 'hosting' that ginger prick out of the army, at Kensington Palace, when Charles was away sorting Camilla.  Great stuff.

 
Her wild ways changed, though, when she met the solid, dependable and caring Khan.  Despite not being known for his patience (he was obviously not Dr Kildare then), Diana found everything she was looking for in Hasnat; to the extent that she got queggy weirdo Burrell to make tentative enquires - once he had finished hand-washing her 'smalls' (FACT - undie-pervs) - to make enquiries of how she might go about arranging a so-called 'mixed-marriage'.  Diana's own mother, the frankly ridiculously-named Frances Brian-Kydd, was clearly very supportive of her bulimic offspring, describing her as - quote - 'a fucking whore who goes with Muslims', but, nevertheless, Diana persisted in her pursuit of the renowned surgeon.  In fairness to the Royal stalker, it is apparent from those around the court that Khan reciprocated, and even took her home to Pakistan to meet his family.  Sadly, though, it didn't last, but not, as the media would have you believe, because Hasnat couldn't cope with the pressure, but, simply, because he supported Liverpool.
 
It is, of course, well known that, whilst Diana knows zip about footy, she always had a soft-spot for Everton as they reminded her of Elton jogging across the Wembley pitch, like a twat, in '84.  More importantly, though, as a teenager, Di had 'run' with the Gatcombe Park Polo maddies, and was gutted that Hasnat didn't give a flying fuck for her noble sport.  Indeed,  all Di's fellers had been part of a Polo firm - Hewitt, Charles, Squidgy and that Royal Protection Officer who was giving her one, had all 'stood', when it had gone off at Chukkas all over the country, and sang along with the time-honoured "you can stick one's fucking mallet up one's arse", and "shit horse bad hat, shit horse bad hat". Khan was different, as all he was interested in was joining the other cockney reds on the 7.17 am out of Euston, checking into the Crowne Plaza, going into that Liverpool shop in Willie Square, and buying a 'Khan 8' shirt in XXL.  Both he and Diana knew it couldn't last, and the end came in 1996, when she chucked him out of Kenny Palace as Fowler equalised an early Kanchelskis strike in a midweek Goodison Derby.  "Your'e the shit of Merseyside", he sang, as thief Burrell camply escorted him off the premises.
 
As we are now aware, Diana couldn't cope without her hunky heartmeister, and those green scrubs and caring hands.  In a ridiculous attempt to make him jealous, she eventually hooked up with Fulham's top boy, Dodi Al Fayed, and started hanging out with the King of Beak on his expensive yacht.  By the summer of 1997, the press were in a frenzy, but what they didn't realise was that this was just a smokescreen.  Following secret talks, behind the scenes, Diana had hooked up again with Khan, and was taking advice on how she could convert from Polo and Everton, to following Liverpool.  Khan was delighted and, together, they would listen to the 'Kop Choir' record, and tapes of Bill Shankly's highly amusing - and very very true - comedy anecdotes.  Before she could take the final step, though, and take her place, with her feller, on the Kop, word reached certain important ears about this Royal turncoat plan and, following Everton's opening home game of the 97/98 season, a meeting was held in a secret boozer location off Goodison Road.  Chaired by a 'Senior Royal', a consensus was reached that Diana could not be allowed to convert to redism.  Word then went out to those 'dark forces on the Gwladys Street End', of which Diana had previously been warned, and certain actions were put into place.  You do, I think, know the rest  . . . . .
 
 
 

 


 

 

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