Someone not too distantly related to me has the urge to do the following one day:
Kidnap the Queen of England, very nicely using biscuits and Corgi Puppies and a white panel van.
Put in her stead a Queen of England impersonator.
For 6 months, the real Queen would be placed in an average nursing home.
The staff would be told that this was their mum, Masie, and she used to be a look-alike and that Masie now thinks she is the Queen but pay no heed, just treat her normally.
For 6 months she would be found sitting in a sun bleached chair, opposite a backgammon board, and occasionally prodded by an assistant in a sky blue tabard asking if she wants a cup of tea or a biscuit.
At the end of the 6 months, the real Queen would be restored to the throne.
We would then see how the elderly are treated from that point forth.
The mirth in the voice of this plan maker is palpable as they squeal
“And she’d be yelling, ‘I’m the Queen, don’t put my slippers on, get me Phillip on the phone!!!'”
Needless to say, I was amused.