How do you do,chaps.

It's HRH Prince Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor here, war hero, Duke of York, nice chap, Protector of the Realm, KG, GCVO, CD, ADC(P), war hero, Vice Admiral in the Royal Navy, decorated war hero of the Falklands scrap, Ace pilot, general all-round spiffing good sport, and last but not least, war hero.

I have decided, with somewhat overdue alacrity, and permission from Mummy, to post this epistle far and wide, across the seven continents and five oceans, with a special paternalistic fondness for our current subservient Colonies, the most important of which is the United States of America.

Invoking the obscure protections of Admiralty Law, I wish to lubriciously address the unfortunate, ill-timed and spurious allegations in regards to my relationship with the American Financier and former high flying pimp of seriously under-aged girls to the rich and famous, Jeffrey Epstein, who is currently alive and well, within a DOJ witness protection program.

I originally met that bothersome Mr. Epstein fellow purely by circumstance, when my Royal yacht, HMS Brittania, broke an 8 inch propellor shaft whilst using her powerfully pounding stern thrusters as we were Royally traversing the Caribbean/Rastifarian ganja latitudes.

Mummy and I had to urgently and unexpectedly pull into an ad hoc port of convenience and dock at Little Saint James Island, (aka Pedo Island/Lolita Island) whilst we were proceeding on our Royal way to Grenada, to visit the eminent Punkah wallah Crown Prince Haile Selassie.

Look, chaps, as a VC winning war hero of Rorkes Drift, far be it from me to cast errant aspersions on my hitherto loyal subjects, but I had absolutely no freaking idea of the depths of depravity that Mr. Epstein would sink to when he set me up with that smashing teenaged, rockin' hot-bodied honeypot, sex-slave Virginia Giuffre in his swanky new-age Manhattan love-nest.

I implicitly and Regally deny that any sexually depraved hi-jinks took place in the upstairs bedroom on the third floor, which has a large signed portrait of Woody Allen mounted above the vibrating red velveteen 7000 gallon heated water bed, once owned by Elvis Presley.

I categorically deny that I had sexual relations with that teen-aged child/woman (Virginia) 3 times.

I also deny that in mid 1999, I touched the pinkishly plump, softly rounded perky breasts of Johanna Sjoberg at Balmoral castle, when we were playing dress-ups and improvising a re-enactment of the beheading of Anne Boleyn with various hand-held "human leather" puppets designed and made by my confidante: Kate Spade. ( R.I.P.)

With regards to my Royal sexual urges, Johanna was NOT asked to perform rub & tug sexual massages for me and was NOT punished if she didn't cause me to become rock-solid diamond hard and explode with a mind-blowing Royal orgasm.

Look, man to man, seriously and in all Regal honesty, I can't possibly be held responsible for accidentally groping her proud and perky twin milkers when she sat on my lap, it was purely a PTSD response due to my emotionally crippling non-sweaty battlefield experiences during the Falklands war, in which I was a stand-out war-bird hero and sank the Flagship Argentine cruiser, "General Belgrano" single handedly with a depleted uranium Zuni rocket.

In case you serfs are not aware, I am a decorated war hero and I don't perspire, even under enemy fire.

Frankly, and in Royal conclusion; with regards to those rockin'young hotties, Johanna and Virginia, as a Royal Highness of impeccable pedigree, I absolutely deplore the unpaid rogering and exploitation of any pretty young cumdumpster strumpets/sex-slaves and dock-dollies.

The very suggestion that I, a Royal war hero, would condone, participate in, or encourage any such extravagant bonking or mastubatory behaviour organised by a convicted sex-predator pervert named Jeffrey, is simply abhorrent and outlandish, unbecoming a Royal hero of my standing and stirling reputation.

In light of these numerous trashy and scurrilous claims made by cursed blackguards from the lowest social rungs of society, I can only faithfully maintain my claim of pristine innocence and no sexual transgressions, innuendo or wrong doing in regards to under-aged teens on the Lolita Express.

I will fight any rude and crude claims on the beaches, and in the streets, I will never surrender !

I must maintain a stiff upper lip, all said and done, in these trying times.

God bless you all, my loyal subjects.

Signed,

HRH Prince Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor Saxe-Coburg Gotha

Hero of the Falklands War/Rorkes Drift

VC et al