|Lord Protector of England, Scotland and Ireland; High Rasta of Jamaica; Der Fuhrer|
|Cromwell escaping a giant condom just after banning free love. Henceforth, you all have to pay.|
|Reign||1653 - 1658|
|Consort||Didn't catch her name|
|Issue||Kings, Catholics, Jews|
“It's a shame he's gone to Hell. Satan did not deserve that.”
Oliver Cromwell (also known as Old Ironcock or simply Olly the Asshole) (1599-1658) was an English parliamentarian and, for a period, the
King Lord Protector of the Commonwealth of England, Scotland and Ireland. He is best known for his work in battlefield strategy, for being hated by every Irishman stretching across the world (Irish people come from all over the world just to piss on the fucking bastard's grave), royal head-removal, and for his fierce and fruity (some would say nauseating) flatulance. Cromwell also had warts on his face and bunions on his toes...or was it the other way round?
- 1 Early Life
- 2 Political Career
- 3 Death and Post-death career
- 4 Legacy
Despite being a proud, firm man from olde England, Cromwell was in fact born in Belgium (albeit to fine olde country English folk who were only over there to mock the continentals). He grew-up in Surrey where he was eventually accepted as a country gentleman and learned to love the lager. He wrote his own plays, all with stern messages on the importance of the liberty of Parliament and the need for prudish puritan morals, especially in relation to masturbation. Cromwell found the idea of "punishing percy" in parliament and getting the sceptre all sticky quite the most abhorrant thing. Even when he'd been drinking.
Upon completion of his PhD in Politics, Philosophy and Genocide from Cambridge University,Cromwell eventually stood for Parliament. He soon became notorious for his drinking, nudity, flatulence and blue language in the house and was frequently ejected by King Charles I (who was often forced to cover Cromwell's modesty with his dandy hat). This angered the young Cromwell who called for habeas corpus, the right to not bear clothes upon one's self.
In retaliation for this blatant crime, the King challenged him to a duel and promptly glove slapped Cromwell in the face. Cromwell accepted the challenge and ordered his uber-loyal Waffen-SS to glove slap the King in return. Thus a crisis was inevitable.
The English Civil War
After a particularly rowdy round of diplomatic negotiations between the monarchy and Parliament a fight broke out which resulted in the Prince of Wales having a halberd inserted into his portly anus - without lubrication. And so, the Civil War began. Cromwell was chosen as Supreme Allied Commander of the Roundhead forces, due to his level 60 Paladin, 'r3gg13_S1de', being the highest level World of Warcraft character in Parliament at the time (even surpassing King Charles' character, 'teh_K1Ng1545'). Cromwell rallied to Parliament's cause during the civil wars, promising to defend English liberties against "that bloody arsehat of a King!". The massed armies of Parliament were proud to serve under General Cromwell but preferred him not to ride about at their head too much, especially when he'd been enjoying a cabbage and bean casserole since the resulting odours could turn their stomachs and their confidence. On the plus side, some of Cromwell's "trouser trumpets" carried the rumble and vibration usually associated with cannon fire and were known to send fear through the ranks of nearby Royalist forces.
After many battles, Charles eventually surrendered having decided that the wars were playing havoc with his wardrobe and selection of feathered-hats and having become sick of his generals spending more time having their portraits done than fighting. Charles was promptly arrested and put on trial for treason.
The Trial of King Charles
Judge: Charles Stuart, King of England. You are charged with making war against and treason against the English nation. How do you plea?
King Charles I: I refuse to answer that, for I am king! You cannot legally put me on trial because l'etat, c'est moi. Ha!
Judge: Hm. Well we can if we overthrow the monarchy and depose you as king.
Citizen Stuart: I beg your pardon?
Jury: We find the defendant guilty of all charges.
Citizen Stuart: Now look here you uppity commoners, I am your King and you will do as I command!
Citizen Cromwell: Why?
Citizen Stuart: Because I said so!
Citizen Cromwell: I mean why do we have to do what you say?
Citizen Stuart: I already told you, "l'etat, c'est moi!" Je suis le roi, et le roi est l'etat! Tres canard avec cette s'il vous plait! Listen to all these fancy French words I'm saying! I'm royalty! That's why you all ought to kneel before me!
Judge: That's not a valid legal argument.
Convict Stuart: What are you talking about? Of course it is.
Citizen Cromwell: Right. Defendant is hereby sentenced to death by beheading.
Judge: What the devil do you think you're doing?
Citizen Cromwell: Hm?
Judge: You're not the judge, I am! You can't sentence him!
Citizen Cromwell: Yes I can.
Judge: On what authority can you sentence this man to death?
Convict Stuart: Ahah, see, see, he can't! The senten-
Citizen Cromwell: The defendant will speak when spoken to.
Judge: Citizen Cromwell, you are not the goddamn judge.
Citizen Bridewell: What the devil is this
And so the former King Charles I was eventually executed and the monarchy abolished, with England becoming a nominal "republic" governed by parliament.
War with Scotland
Cromwell became General of All The Armies In The Commonwealth which gave him a fairly enormous amount of potential political power as well as a really shiny pair of black boots (those 17th-century ones that come up the the knees and have a wide brim for catching orphans tears- you know the type).
Unfortunately all this peace was boring him and playing havoc with his digestion, and those who had to share a barracks with him demanded of Parliament that it declare war on someone and send Cromwell into battle for the love of God I mean it's like a rotten egg factory in here! Fortunately, such an excuse arose when Scotland crowned Charles II King of Scots which the Commonwealth saw as extremely cheeky, giving it a sufficient bullshit excuse to invade Scotland. Cromwell quickly subdued the Scottish forces by assuring them that if Scotland joined the Commonwealth they'd never have to buy anyone a pint. There was considerable resistance in the capital and Edinburgh Castle held out until, after a particularly huge meal of boiled eggs, brussels sprouts, beans and boiled cabbage, Cromwell released a spectacularly and legendarily noxious "loud and proud" in the direction of the fortress which hung over it like a giant brown ghost. Within minutes the gates opened and the defenders ran to the safety of the city below, handkerchiefs over mouths and eyes streaming. Reportedly, many actually ran up into the English ranks and begged for a swift death to escape the fumes; a request with which Cromwell happily complied, ordering each individual Scot to be vigorously kicked in the groin and directed to a nearby river in which to cast themselves. Afterward, Cromwell released his men to murder, rape, and pillage in the typical fashion of the time. Scotland had surrendered.
The Cromwellian fart made the castle uninhabitable for several years and, indeed, took centuries to fully disperse leading to Edinburgh being known as "Auld Reekie" until the late 20th century - local legend holds that during the Second World War a stray German fighter pilot flew over the castle and was instantly knocked unconscious by the stench, crashing into the middle of Edinburgh. Despite the large explosion, this story is unconfirmed.
Amid rumours that an Irishman had drunk more and out-farted Cromwell on a small, coastal village, Cromwell landed on the Irish shore in 1998. Instead of flatulent alcoholics, Cromwell found there the Americans invading a German beachhead, under the Generalship of a bearded, red-capped fat guy with a camera filming a gay porno titled "Saving Ryan's Privates". Cromwell, enraged, went on a hard-core drinking spree across the Irish countryside. When locals complained that there was no alcohol left, he advised them to go "To Hell or to Connacht". Historians agree that this statement was an unfair choice, as THEY ARE THE SAME PLACE.
Handing the Long Parliament Its Arse
There was a lot of fierce debate in Parliament about how the Commonwealth should be governed and these often degenerated into foul language, mooning and fistfights. One day Cromwell was sitting amongst all this rabble trying to enjoy a nice tankard of warm stout and getting fed up of all the nonsense. He stood to speak and delivered the following speech.
|“||You are a shyte Parliament, sirs. And I shall put an end to your sitting!!||”|
With that a lot of very gruff soldiers marched into the chamber and began throwing out all the MPs without even giving them time to gather up their hats and trousers. Cromwell downed his stout, made his way up to the vacant throne and plopped himself down on it. Surveying the empty seats of Parliament he realised that this was truly a form of democracy he could appreciate.
The Bare-Naked Parliament
Cromwell created a hand-picked parliament of people he approved of. This parliament gained the nickname "the bare-naked parliment" after "bare-naked" Tom, a mad old naturist who Cromwell felt it would be a laugh to have as honourable member for Wapping "with his privy member flapping around in the chamber, attracting the sinful attention of the public gallery and putting the speaker off his sausage rolls".
Additionally, Cromwell had himself sworn into office as "Lord Protector of the Commonwealth". Cromwell pointed out to naysayers that whilst this office held all the powers of the King who had recently been overthrown it wasn't really a king because it simply wasn't and you'd been a fool and a Royalist to suspect otherwise. And a traitor. Yes, off with thee to the tower!
To further prove it wasn't a royal position, Cromwell nominated one Richard Cromwell as his successor who, in a surprising and fortunate coincidence, also happened to be his son.
War with the Dutch
The Dutch had spent most of the 17th century trying to annoy the English by sailing their trade ships a bit too close to English vessels travelling to and from colonies in the New World and annoying the English sailors by loudly dancing around the decks in their clogs and shouting at them in their stupid accents. Cromwell decided he'd jolly well had enough of this and declared war on the Netherlands in 1653. The Dutch were thoroughly defeated and the Commonwealth made them throw all their clogs into the sea, forcing them to wear normal shoes instead. Even now the Dutch people remember this day with shame and if you make a joke about clogs going into the sea in a Dutch bar you will very likely be killed.
Jamaica: I Want It All
In 1655, Cromwell sent Admiral William Penn to the Caribbean to capture the Spanish colony of Hispaniola with the intention of having the island's coastline carved into the shape of Cromwell's head. However, because of the dodgy maps he was using, Penn ended up on the coast of Jamaica instead. Penn and his forces easily conquered the island and had intended to start carving when one of the locals introduced them to a relaxing smoke that was popular on the island. Penn enjoyed the smoke so much that he forgot what he was supposed to be doing and it was only after many weeks that he bothered sending a ship back to England hailing Cromwell as 'High Rasta an' t'ing' and offering 'many cigars' as booty. The Jamaican 'cigars' were extremely popular in Parliament and the Lord Protector, impressed by how confused and lethargic it made the MPs, ordered that English trade vessels establish a permanent trade in "this fine and mellowing herb" for the "betterment" of Parliament. The trade only stopped following the restoration of 1660, at which point the supply was diverted to Whitehall Palace.
Although he praised the Jamaican "special tobacco" for the ease it lead to his rule, Cromwell was never personally that enamoured by it claiming that upon his first smoke he had "become somewhat giggly in such a way that does not befit a Captain of Men" and that he had "found [himself] falling asleep unexpectedly and consumed by a strong appetite for sausage rolls and boiled cabbage"; after that, Cromwell decided to stick to his lovely lager.
Death and Post-death career
He died in 1658 (SEP-TEM-BER!) of unknown reasons, quite possibly lethal flatulance which would explain the terrible storm there was that night. His body was buried in Westminster Abbey with full honours. His son Richard Cromwell succeeded his dad but was out of office within less than a year. Wisely 'Dickie' left the country as many of his father's old work colleagues were executed for bad haircuts (and er..that Death Warrant thingy) after the collapse of the British republic.
Cromwell didn't rest long in his grave. He was dug up again in 1661 by Charles II in revenge of the monarchy who had his body used as a scarecrow and then decapitated. A plaster cast was made of his genitals and, from this, a giant bronze replica (warts and all) was "erected" on a plinth outside the Houses of Parliament. This confirms beyond all doubt that Cromwell was a Roundhead and provides a point of interest for foreign tourists, who generally think it is Big Ben. His head now serves as subterrenean wall support in Cambridge University and his body is now lying in a ditch serving as a dam to stop the dangerous water flow, and if removed will flood the entirety of England. When it rots away (it is preserved for hundreds of years by the pus from his warts) It will create a beautiful and harmonious fragrance that will increase the Puritan population and poison the royal family from fume inhalation. After he died Jesus Tea bagged him for twenty years because he deserved it.
History has been kind to Oliver Cromwell. Dick Cheney and Henry Kissinger have both supported him (posthumously) for the post of Secretary of Defence of the United States, describing him as one of the first pure-blooded Republicans. Both have admired his benevolent nature and pro-life, Christian stance on many issues, namely War and Ireland. After all, everyone knows the Irish, like foetuses, like a good drunken brawl and who was Cromwell to deny them the fight they so eagerly wanted?