Poor old Charlie boy takes some stick, don’t he just? Tree hugging, badger culling, flower talking, carbuncles, army boots… and of course Diana. He’s next in line to the throne, but Mummy’s keeping her bum firmly in place whilst a string of young pretenders queue up behind. Will he make it before he needs his Zimmer and will there be any blue left on the Union Jack when he does? Now they’re raking out his old letters to Prime Ministers past and long gone. Well at least it keeps the spotlight of Air-miles Andy and his lot!