The dream seemed to cover a large amount of time as it began by dating Diana, and ended about the time Camilla Parker-Bowles proposed to me.
Life was good. I had plenty of money and there was always a cold beer when I wanted one. I had an extensive collection of tweed clothes for every occasion. I could travel wherever I wanted, and I never had to pay for a single thing because people were always giving me things for free.
My wedding night with Diana was interesting, to say the least. We just sat on the sofa eating ice cream out of the carton and watched The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly on t.v., and every now and then she would lean over and adjust my kilt so my Royal Scepter wouldn't show. It was every bit as hot as it sounds.
Sure, I traveled the world and went to all the big parties, but that really wasn't my scene. I preferred to stay at home in my country house, and spend quiet afternoons riding my horses, and when things got boring, I just hired a few peasants to throw rocks at. Life was good.
The only drawback was Diana was always harping on about landmines, and charities, and how we should use our celebrity for good, or some such. I don't know what she was going on about, as I was too busy being chatted up by some rich horse-faced old bitty.
I can't, for the life of me, imagine what I saw in her. She must have been great in the sack, but certainly not with the lights on. Eww.
It was nice to dream of having wealth, power, and all the trappings of royalty, but I awoke with the feeling of being George Bailey at the end of "It's A Wonderful Life". I kissed Flannery and the girls and skipped to the kitchen to make coffee, but all day I kept catching myself humming "God Save The Queen".