Speaker 1: What's up, everyone, and welcome to another episode of the
Epstein Chronicles. Folks, we have now reached the sex drugs
in Sandringham chapter of the Andrew Chronicles, because of course
we have. Of all the places in the world where
one might expect to stumble upon people doing poppers, the
Queen's countryside retreat was not high on my list. Yet
here we are one royal mansion, one disgraced prince, one
convicted trafficker, and a party scene that sounds like the
result of a bad vice article headline generator. Nothing says
royal dignity quite like the chemical la soiree hosted for
Glen Maxwell by the Duke of Denial himself. I mean
poppers at Sandringham. We're talking about historical vandalism. Here you
have expect to see the ghost of Edward the Seventh
and Victoria pacing the corridor as muttering we ruled an
empire for this And look, I couldn't help but think
of the Sopranos episode where Aj goes to the concert
in Manhattan and at the after party and gets his
eyebrows shaved off. Same energy, except this time instead of
Tony Sopranos storming into the room yelling, what's this I
hear about? Weird checktion popush. It's Prince Andrew fumbling with
a bottle and pretending he has no idea what this
stuff is. The whole image just writes itself. The windsor
crest on the wall, a table of empty glasses, a
few half inflated balloons, and a royal with no shame.
It's like Downtown Abbey meets train Spotting, only with worse
dialogue and better wallpaper. And of course, let's not forget.
Jeffrey Epstein was famously anti drug He didn't use them himself,
that much is true, but that didn't mean there weren't
drugs at his gatherings. Epstein was a control freak, a manipulator,
a man who understood that drugs could make others more malleable.
He didn't need to take them, he just needed the
people around him to. Because when someone's days frightened and
chemically dulled, they don't fight back, they don't remember clearly,
they don't resist. It was never about pleasure. It was
always about control. And now to hear that same kind
of substance might have been floating around the Royal residence.
I mean, it's not shocking in the Epstein world sense.
It's shocking in the Sandringham sense, because we're not talking
about some tacky Miami condo. This is where the Royal
family spends Christmas. It's where the Queen gave her televised addresses.
It's where the British Empire's ghosts are supposed to sleep,
not where Glene Maxwell hosts her little chemical circus. And
picture it the Royal dining Hall with its oak panels
and oil portraits, filled with the sweet chemical sting of paupers,
while Andrew tries to act like it's just another Saturday night.
I mean, you can almost see the Queen's ghost standing
in the doorway, clutching her pearls or maybe her corky,
wondering how in the hell her house turned into a
low re n disco for degenerates. And look, the sheer
absurdity of it would be hilarious if it weren't so revolting.
This is the same family that lectures the world about
service and duty, Yet here we have the Duke of
York apparently serving of cocktails, complicity and a side of
sex drugs. It's beyond parody. You could put this scene
in a satire and people would call it unrealistic. A
party for an accused sex trafficker at a royal estate
with drugs. Nah, that's too much, But this is real
life or whatever twisted fasimile of it Prince Andrew's been
living in. This man has the self awareness of a
traffic cone. At this point, you have to wonder if
Andrew is secretly competing with himself to see how far
he can fall. Every time you think this man is
at bottom, he starts digging from the id on sweat
defense to this latest bombshell. He's turned his own disgrace
into a performance art. And somewhere out there, Tony soprano
shaking his head, cigar in hand, saying, at least my
kid just got his eyebrows shaved off. This guy's out
here disgracing an entire monarchy, and honestly, he's right. Tony
might have been a mob boss, but at least he
knew how to run a family, because at least when
Aj got caught up in weird schechtionm popash Tony yelled
at him, he cared enough to throw a fit. Prince Andrew,
he's the guy that threw the party, and that's the
difference between fiction and whatever this farce has become. The
mob had more class than the monarchy. Today's article is
from the Deli mel and the headline sex drugs found
that party Disgraced Andrew hosted for Jeffrey Epstein and Glenn
Maxwell in Sandringham. New royal book claims this article was
authored by Mark Nicol. Drugs to enhance sexual experiences were
found at Sandringham after Andrew hosted a party for pedophile
Jeffrey Epstein and Glenn Maxwell. According to a new book,
bathrooms at the royal property were littered with condoms, hooper
kints and drugs call poppers after the event, which Andrew
later dismissed as a straightforward shooting weekend, sounds like a
diddy party to me. And for those of you who
aren't familiar with poppers, well, it's a drug that gets
you a little bit more in the mood, if you will,
and a lot of people that are into the party
use paupers to get the mood right. The party throne
the mark Glenn Maxwell's thirty ninth birthday in two thousand
featured Disgraced Andrew's twenty nineteen Newsnight interview with Emily Maitliss.
I mean, this guy has been lying from the very beginning,
and at this point it feels like just beating a
dead horse. But the facts are the facts. And this
guy was running around Buckingham Palace, around the monarchy like
he could do whatever he wanted. Even did he got
a hotel room? I mean, did he knew that the
baby oil party was coming? Bro got himself a hotel room?
But no, here you have your people, the maids, the servants,
the rest of the people that are supposed to take
care of the property come in and clean up condoms
and the remnants of whatever drugs were being used. That
sounds to me like somebody who's not scared of consequences,
because most people aren't gonna do something like this in
the royal residence. And what it also shows you, and
it's pretty terrifying, is how they had an iron fist
wrapped around information for a very very long time in
the royal family. This has scandal written all over it,
but instead of anybody talking about it, well, it got
swept under the rug because God forbid, Prince Andrew is
ever held accountable. And can you imagine the pain and
suffering the Royal family would have saved themselves if they
would have just dealt with this right away and head
on instead of waiting all these years. All of this
could have been dealt with years ago, but the Queen,
I hate to say it was complicit. Andrew's been tipped
to move into Sandringham, where he is turfed out of
luxurious royal lodge and windsor. The discovery of sex drugs
there is included in a new book by author Robert Jobson,
serialized by The Daily Mail. The Winsor Legacy claims these
substances were found by royal staff who were accustomed to
cleaning up after Andrew. Well, look, if you have that
kind of sexual desire, you're gonna need some help along
the way sometimes. So I'm not shocked to hear that
there were these enhancing kind of drugs. Was Prince Andrew
on them? I don't know. I have no idea who
was using them, but I have no doubt they were there.
I'm sure that there was ecstasy there as well. Glenn
Maxwell sixty three, the daughter of late newspaper proprietor Robert Maxwell,
is serving a twenty year prison sentence in the US
for sex trafficking. Glenn and Epstein, who died at age
sixty six, were regular guests that Royal Residences in the
late nineties and early two thousands. Well, that shouldn't shock anybody.
He was also a regular guest at Bill Clinton's White House,
so why should it shock anybody that he had access
here too? And speaking of that, does this sound like
a lone wolf to you? A guy that has no
contacts in the government, a guy that's not being protected,
show up at the White House seventeen times, show up
at the Royal Families residences whenever he wanted. Basically had
the Prince of England throwing parties for you. Yeah, just
a lone wolf. Nothing to see here, Time to move on, everybody.
Andrew thought nothing of inviting the pair to private residences.
In the car Crash BBC interview, the former Prince scopped
at any suggestion that this was significant. He arrogantly corrected
Nitelist when she asked whether he had invited Epstein and
Maxwell to a party at Sandringham, saying it was a
shooting weekend, A straightforward shooting weekend. What does that even mean? So,
because you guys went out and shot a couple of animals.
There was no fuckery going on. There was no scumbaggery
going on. Obviously that's a lie too. Everything this man
says is a lie. So for the people out there
that try and bring up Virginia's credibility when we're talking
about Prince Andrew, please take all the seats in the
back row, because that's a debate you're not gonna win
because the facts are the facts, and there's nobody out
here lying more than Prince Andrew's bitch ass. Apparently, a
shooting weekend was not the same as a party, though
the distinction was lost on the interviewer and in the audience.
As Jobson writes, Andrew's socializing with Epstein and Maxwell did
nothing to dim her majesty the Queen's view of her
second son. And this is the big problem. The Queen
was backing them up for all these years. There was
no way that Andrew has taken a fall. The Queen
would have never allowed it. She remained fiercely loyal to
Andrew as the Epstein sawg unfolded and shielded him as
Pallace insiders continued to push for his total exile. Once again,
this could have all been avoided. But the Queen wanted
to protect Prince Andrew, wanted to protect Jeffrey Epstein by proxy,
wanted to protect Elaane Maxwell, and basically told all of
Epstein's survivors that she didn't care about them. I mean
not in so many words. But if you read between
the lines, and I've said it once and I'll say
it again. If I was accused of this shit and
I went and tried to hide at my mom's house,
fucking forget it. If I got there at eight by nine,
she'd be dragging me down the street by my ear
to the police. But the Queen she had other plans. Instead,
she made everything go away, and she let Andrew continue
on his destructive path, never stepping in, never stopping him,
never scolding them, never having any real ramifications. The book
reveals she confided her support to a trusted confidant, saying,
you have to remember he is my son. Yeah. The
people he wronged, they were people's daughters. No empathy for them, though, huh.
Several elegant nineteenth century properties on Sandringham Estate are being
considered for Andrew. These include a former hunting lodge and
the home of the estate's gardener. Yo, that's fucking funny.
You're gonna move him into the gardener's house. They should
move the gardener into the big house and Andrew into
the small one. Make Andrew be the servant for the gardener. Now,
that's a good idea. Imagine the gardener ringing his little
bill and Prince Andrew comes prancing over in one of
those goofy ass tuxedos he likes with that top hat.
That's what the king should do. Make Andrew servant to
the other people who used to serve him. What better
way to teach somebody some humility? Right. Though attractive and
possessing original Edwardian features, these houses represent a come down
after the spacious luxury of thirty three room Royal Lodge
and windsor well, guess what. That's what happens when you
screw up, you get punished. I know it's a new
situation for Andrew to deal with actually having some ramifications,
But here we are. The time has come. And I
told you folks what six years ago, that the Karma
train was on the tracks, and eventually it was going
to find its way to Prince Andrew's station. And here
the fuck we are. With the Queen's death, Andrew lost
his strongest ally. When the news broke of Virginia's lawsuit
against Andrew in twenty twenty one. She wanted to meet
him face to face to soften the blow. Her majesty
wish was granted, but a pair of senior cordiers, Sir
Edward Young, her private secretary, and Sir Michael Stevens, keeper
of the Privy Purse, also attended. At the meeting, Andrew
learned his patronages and military titles, not including being a
Vice Admiral in the Royal Navy, were being withdrawn. The
Windsor legacy also repeats the claim King Charles clamped down
on his brother's extravagant expenditures, including tens of thousands of
pounds on Indian health gurus. Tens of thousands of pounds
on Indian health gurus. Huh, sounds like money well spent.
Might as well just go out here, put that money
into a bong and light it up and smoke it,
you fuck an idiot. Her Majesty waved through huge bills
for spiritual advisors who encouraged Andrew to chant Indian mantras, Yo,
can you imagine that one. Imagine being the poor person
that has to come into the room to help Andrew
out with whatever he needs. I don't know his teddy
bear is reor adjusted or whatever, and you'll find him
in there doing one of these Indian chants, dressed like
the dude from Indiana Jones. I'd be noping out all
the way back home to my flat in London. I mean,
you know the song by Kendrick Lamar. Not like us, Well,
they are not like us, folks. Within weeks of ascending
to the throne, King Charles was shocked to receive a
thirty two thousand pounds bill for Andrew's living yoga instructor.
His younger brother expected the Privy Purse to pick up
the tab, but King Charles intervened. The new monarch wanted
to rein in royal expenditure. Well that's a good idea,
thirty two thousand pounds for a living yoga instructor. There's
people living on the streets over in the UK can't
feed themselves, but Prince Andrew is spending thirty two thousand
dollars thirty two thousand pounds on a living yoga instructor. Like,
what does that even mean somebody who grew up poor.
I have no idea what that even means a living
yoga instructor. Where I'm from, we had live ins, living
crack dealers, living drug dealers, living gangsters. No living yoga instructors, though,
and certainly not for a thirty two thousand dollars bill.
And what it really shows you and tells you is
how absurd the whole entire thing is. I mean, it's
absurd how they waste their money on dumb shit. There
are so many people that are out there that are suffering,
and you have people like Prince Andrew using public dollars
on shit like this. If that doesn't get you fired up,
I don't know what will. And really, I think that's
the tragic punchline for most people, isn't it. I mean,
you expect this kind of circus from washed up rockstars,
hedge fund creeps, or aging bless lebs with too much
money and too little shame, but not from a guy
who used to stroll behind the queen at state funerals.
Yet here we are staring down the wreckage of what
used to be Royalty, and all that's left is a
man who turned a royal estate into a frat house
with tiaras. Sandringham used to symbolize the quiet, untouchable grandeur
of the crown. Now it's got the lingering stench of
scandal and the faint whiff of poppers in the drapes.
And maybe that's the uldimate metaphor for the whole Andrew saga.
A man born into the illusion of divine right who
ended up the poster boy for divine retribution. Every time
he tries to crawl his way back to respectability, another
story like this bubbles up to remind us that the
rot wasn't just in Epstein's circle. It seeped into the
royal walls themselves. And if there's one thing we've learned
about Prince Andrew by now, it's that he's not just
capable of embarrassing the monarchy, he's made it an art form.
So here's to the Joe Exotic of the Windsor family,
the man who brought paupers to Sandringham and managed to
turn a royal legacy into an episode of the Sopranos.
Only this time there's no Tony to yell at him. Instead,
what he gets is the sound of history. Laughing. All
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