Introducing Chad Tycoon, future King of the UK
(Incidentally, the common mistake of referring to the United Kingdom as England is a hang-up of British terminology. England used to mean both England and the whole of the country. It wasn't up until the rise of Scottish nationalism in the 1930s that this went out of fashion, at least in England. Or do I mean Britain? Or the United Kingdom?)
Anyway, Chad Tycoon is a wealthy man. He's an enterprising Texan who manages his multinational in between yacht parties and buying Ferraris for all of his favourite girlfriends. He is, to put it mildly, stinking rich. Chad employs the Sultan of Brunei to be his footstool. You get the picture.
But Chad Tycoon has a rare condition that clouds all of his success. This poor man is fictitious.
If he did not suffer from this ailment, then the world would look a very different place. And it all goes back to a Superbious article he read very recently, entitled A Wager with Her Majesty.
It's a bit long so I'll summarise, but basically it's a question to Queen Elizabeth which is how much her job of being queen brings to the British taxpayer. In a move which I jointly consider very helpful and very annoying, that question was answered about three seconds after it was published. The answer is £100million per year. That's after expenses, guard changes, castle maintenance etc. The Windsor family pays all taxes as expected, and then throw in cool one-hundred-mil to keep us happy.
"The Windsor family pays all taxes as expected, and then throw in cool one-hundred-mil to keep us happy.
So there's your answer then. The monarchy is a good thing. The money is coming in and all the royal family can enjoy the luxuries of what that cash can bring. Weekly meetings with the Prime Minister, helicopter rides, various blood-sport rituals – and Britain feels the benefit.
Which is where Chad Tycoon comes in. Prior to his diagnosis of being fictitious, Chad had read this article, read the answer to the question, and thought he could go one better.
He recently wrote a letter to the UK Prime Minister, David Cameron, to offer a deal.
"Mr Cameron," he begins- "I'll make the deal very simple. Every year, my estate will pay the British treasury the grand sum of £200million, plus taxes. That is £100million more for the UK every year for the rest of my life. In exchange I expect the following two demands to be met: 1) that the monarchy is transferred to me with immediate effect, rendering the Windsor Dynasty over and the Tycoon reign to begin its glorious life. I will be the King. I will open your Parliament, knight your paedophilic television presenters and look incredibly grumpy wherever I go. 2) That with immediate effect the crown jewels is replaced by my lucky Stetson."
An extra £100million to basically allow King Ralph to take over. Should Britain accept this deal?
If not, then does the income argument still work? If Chad Tycoon's £200million isn't worth it, then why is Elizabeth Windsor's £100million?
Now, to be fair to the counter-argument, I've skipped a few salient points on which I am guilt-bound to mention.
Namely that the person who gave me the number £100million is also a republican at heart (republican doesn't mean Republican in Britain), yet with an appreciation of an unelected head of state being an impartial pillar to offer advice to the far more temporary and opinionated government members. I also must point out that Chad Tycoon is an example of the Nirvana Fallacy. In other words he's a worst-case-scenario exaggeration designed to highlight a less destructive but still important question: is the cash worth the monarchy?
"I must point out that Chad Tycoon is an example of the Nirvana Fallacy. Is the cash worth the monarchy?
And if this doesn't still work as an argument, then where do the pro-royalists go from there?
I'll probably find out three seconds after this article is published.