Is 73-year-old King Charles sick already? No doubt the answer is yes, due to inbreeding, but if your concern lies with his sickly hands — well, I’m not so sure. Numerous outlets have reached out to doctors over the years asking about the King’s famous “sausage fingers,” only to be repeatedly given answers that more or less amount to: I cannot diagnose a royal based on photographs of his sausage fingers alone. And now there’s something else happening with his fingers:
AHHH! The doctors over at the New York Post attribute the raw redness of the King’s bechafed fingies to hours and hours of meet-and-greets and likely diligent use of hand sanitizer. As one of the many doctors at Gawker, I agree with this diagnosis. He’s chapped, sanitized, and selfless, honey, and that’s why he’s our big daddy king.
In honor of his raw digits, we’ve rubbed together a poem for King Charles in the style of Princess Beatrice's brother-in-law’s poem honoring the Queen post-death. Please join us now in reading.
Thank you for fingers, so plump and so fresh
Thank you for fingers, that ragged red flesh
Thank you for fingers, those sausagey tubes
Thank you for fingers, and thank you for boobs
Thank you for being the new post-Queen King
Thank you for being, for gaffes, a wellspring
Thank you for being a plump sausage hand
Thank you for being King of Englandland
Thank you for doing whatever you do
Thank you for doing your hands ‘til they’re blue
Thank you for doing well actually they’re red
Thank you for doing but you understand
Thank you for shaking every person’s hand
Thank you for shaking all across the land
Thank you for shaking til you got so gross
Thank you for shaking — no, don’t get too close!
Thank you for showing us all that we know
Thank you for showing us that we can grow
Thank you for showing your grace and your wits
Thank you for showing your raw filthy mitts