97: Lord Jeffrey Archer, Earl of Wessex. Born 1965 this ruggedly handsome man with a devilish twinkle in his eyes and a roguish smile playing across his thin lips, soon rose from the foetid back streets of Cockney (an area in East London) to prominence as leader of the Tory Party, Princess Diana's 'Rock' and the Saint of Tax Collectors.

Following a series of rape accusations in the 80's (allegations that were thrown out of court due to insubstantial evidence and a few Masonic back-handers) Archer and his spotty back went on to spearhead the 'Corrupt Right-wingers Against Poverty' committee (otherwise known as C.R.A.P.) whilst writing a chain of best-selling novels. 'Works of Genius that out-rival Shakespeare' (Lord Archer 1982).

Further accusations followed concerning political corruption, bribery, plagiarism and appalling literary skills. Undaunted Archer continued to champion the underdogs with his grammatical ineptitude until the jealousy of his peers led to his downfall. He was arrested in 1999 for '...being too good looking by half.' Banged up with Mr Big in the showers for five years (despite further Masonic manoeuvring) Archer, from the dusty confines of his luxury cell-suite, continued to produce his works of literature and hold elaborate parties with the Hamiltons. This time his books contained more 'bum-rape' scenes than previously.

Running the Theatre Royal on Drury Lane from his bedside cabinet, Jeffrey Archer finally died in January 2003 when a bar of soap became wedged up his sphincter and caused him to choke on the warden's dick. Now buried in Poet's Corner he will best be remembered as the latter-day Jesus Christ and messianic author of the Holy Scriptures.