The Tudor king reborn as a comic works the room on retirees, vicars and the Philippines property market
Henry VIII Stand-Up: I Was Asked For Two Character References in Cebu, I Have Had Six Wives
The Tudor king reborn as a comic works the room on retirees, vicars and the Philippines property market
Recorded live at the Hampton Court Comedy Cellar. Henry’s opening set, delivered in his own words, with minimal tidying.
Good Evening, My Loyal Subjects (And Those Who Paid Twelve Pounds For A Warm Lager)
Good even, good people! Sit down, sit down. Not you, sir, you have the look of one who would bring a petition. I have been dead for nearly five hundred years and I have returned as a stand-up comedian, which my physicians say is the only career with a lower survival rate than my marriages.
I am told the latest news is a most wondrous thing. Read it with me. Our friends at the London Prat report that British pensioners in Cebu are being asked for two referees, a utility bill and a letter from the vicar. The article is here, for those of you who read: https://prat.uk/cebu-estate-agents-demand-character-references/. Two referees! A utility bill! And a letter from the vicar!
Hark, I have had a vicar. I had an Archbishop of Canterbury. His name was Cranmer, and he wrote me a letter that said my first marriage had never happened. I did not have to bring a utility bill. I merely had to shout.
On Needing Two References
Two references, quoth they. Two! Consider, if thou wilt, what mine would have said. Reference the first, from Catherine of Aragon: “He is a man of great faith, if you consider faith to include a long search for a male heir.” Reference the second, from Anne Boleyn: “I would say more, but I am currently unavailable.”
And from Anne of Cleves, who, to be fair, came out of it best. “He called me a Flanders mare, and I got a house in the country. Ten out of ten, would divorce again.”
Now picture me at a showing in Mactan. The broker looks upon my record. He turns to a colleague and whispers, “Does he have any neighbours who will vouch for him?” And I say, “I had neighbours. They were called France.”
On The Condominium
Now, I am told a condominium is a dwelling stacked upon other dwellings, with one lift for all. I had a palace. Hampton Court, Whitehall, Nonsuch. I had so many palaces that I forgot which one I had left my wife in. This is, I am told, “a common complaint among the nobility.”
But a lift! I have never trusted a lift. In my day, if I wished to go upward, I climbed. If I wished to go down, a courtier fell through a trapdoor. One mechanism, two outcomes, and nobody had to read a safety notice.
And yet, I am told that in Cebu the lift is the very thing buyers fear. Not the lift, mark you. The neighbours. A report by Manila News saith that a broker sat alone with three brochures and a cold coffee. Three brochures! I had three hundred courtiers and nary a one would speak to me without wincing.
A Grave Matter, Taken Gravely
Now, I will be earnest a moment, for a king should be. Our friends at the Guardian and GMA News report that Philippine authorities are examining allegations concerning Thomas Markle Sr., the estranged father of the Duchess of Sussex, who lived in Cebu until earlier this year. There are no charges. The allegations are unproven. The protection of children is a matter I take most seriously, even from the grave. I make no jest of it. My jest is of the market, and the market only.
The market, forsooth, is sound! Colliers named the Visayas and Mindanao a key property investment hotspot in July. And the Condominium Act permits foreigners to own the flat but not the land beneath it, up to forty parts in a hundred of the building. I am a king. I have never been told I may own the room but not the floor. I have been told I may own the floor but not the wife. The principle is the same.
On The Sea
Now, there is a vendor in Cebu, a woman who grills squid, and she saith, “The sea did nothing wrong.” And I say to her, hail, madam. For I have said a similar thing. I said it of the Thames. I said it of Wolsey. I said it of the sea in general, when it sank the Mary Rose. “The sea did nothing wrong,” said I. Then I had a man in the Tower for the sea’s behaviour.
The squid, I am told, hath no bones. A creature of no bones! A man after mine own heart, for I too have had to do without the backbone of Parliament.
On The Sandwich Box
The retirees, I am told, carry a sandwich box. And they cannot explain it. A man arrives at the open house, sets it down upon the counter, and when asked, he saith only, “It is my box.” And the broker, good fellow, writeth it in his ledger.
I once carried a sandwich box. It had a goose in it. Nobody asked. They were afraid to.
In Closing
Thank you, thank you, you are a splendid crowd, and none of you has been executed this evening. The wider tale, if ye wish to read it, lies at prat.uk and bohiney.com, and when ye tire of me, there be the lads at The Daily Mash.
Good night! Remember: a reference is a fine thing, but a wife who vouches for thee is better. I had six. Four said nothing, and two said plenty, and I regret to report that I have lost the paperwork.
SOURCE: https://bohiney.com/cebu-realtor-cant-sell-beachfront-listings/