Let me tell you about the most ridiculously royal thing I have ever heard.

In 1936, Queen Elizabeth's grandfather, King George V, died from a fatal overdose.

Three quarters of a gram of morphine, one gram of cocaine.

Not because George was super fun at parties. This was not a rock-star heroin overdose. It was intentional.

Back then, in the 1930s, before the advent of television, newspapers were preeminent, and the morning newspapers

were considered the reputable journals of record, whereas the CD evening papers were just

gossip rags.

So King George's physician, Lord Dawson, intentionally overdosed the monarch.

To ensure that the timing of his demise allowed for more respectable publications to announce

his death before the unseemly prose of shoddy bird cage liners.

Now I'm presently coming to you from Britain,

and so impriv to a lot of British news which may not have reached you in America yet. So it's very likely at this

point I am the first person to inform you that most unfortunately, Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth

the second has died.

You probably hadn't heard that yet.

I should have told you to sit down, I'm sorry.

Now listen, by all accounts, she died of natural causes. We have no reason to suspect anything like a fatal heroin overdose to ensure that the story of her death was not broken by TMC, or worse, tweeted out by Megan Markle.

Her funeral was this Monday, Monday of this week, concluding a week of national mourning and

astonishing pomp. A cue of an estimated 750,000 people spanning five miles and days to see Elizabeth

the second Lion State.

Heathrow Airport diverted plane flights for two hours last Wednesday

to ensure that the skies were silent over the Queen's coffin procession as it entered London.

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