They've yanked the heart out of this great nation. We will feel the effects of these senseless murders for generations. Who's to say what consequence this will have on our flourishing civilization? We've lost nearly all our leaders! It's terrifying. What will we do without our heads of state? Without the important dogs that run all the important companies our economy depends on to stay afloat? What are we without the wealthy and powerful noble dogs that make this country so great?
I feel so sick. I admit it, I cried today. I cried my damn sissy eyes out. I love this great country with all my heart, and I have no idea how to deal with this deafening sorrow that I'm overcome with. I just want the terrorist to suffer. I want him to be in so much intense agony that every one of his nerve endings are shattered like glass. I just wish I could be the one to administer him with the torture.
To be honest, I hesitate to even leave the house to get the mail. What if there are more attacks? What if he's going after all the important dogs in the nation? War heroes would logically be next! I'm probably on his kill list too.
I've booby trapped my whole house and yard with thread-triggered shotguns just in case. I wish the government would release fleets of indoor drones to keep us safe in our houses, too. I would feel so much better if there were a couple of heavily armed, all-seeing drones hovering over my couch right now. The TV's surveillance feature alone isn't enough to stop a terrorist attack. It would be over in seconds.
We need stronger security. If something like this can happen right in the hearts of our greatest cities, how can we ever feel safe again? It's inexcusable that this attack happened under the government's nose. I demand they increase security tenfold! I won't even leave my house until the sky is turned black with drones. I want there to be so many of them flying around up there, that they block out the sun permanently. And a couple in each room of every house, and inside each vehicle, and maybe then I'll start to feel safe again.
I just want my freedom back. It's the government's job to give that to me, I pay my damned taxes.
I have to clear my head of all this fear, I just twitched and blew a hole in my coffee table. Gotta reload the trusty shotgun. Gotta calm down.
I was really pleased with this newspaper's feature yesterday on the importance of golf in relieving stress. I agree that golf should be taught in all the schools, but I'd go one step further and suggest that golf courses be built by the government in all the good communities. Of course, they shouldn't let just anyone play golf for free, or the courses would get filled with your unemployed welfare trash real fast. There would need to be some kind of screening process to keep out the scum, I would volunteer to be the screener in a heartbeat. But veterans and important business dogs should get automatic free membership without a doubt.
The common dogs don't understand what it's like being a war hero. They're such shameless ingrates. We risked our lives to protect their sorry fat behinds. Sat in freezing cold guard towers all night, shooting anyone we saw pass by not in uniform. We safeguarded democracy for all dogs everywhere and we deserve respect. We deserve free golf courses and fishing boats and Nureongi servants. It's only fair. At least they could give us one or two of the three and just see how it goes.
Everyone's always going on about how we need to support the troops, and how the troops are our best and brightest, but what about the veterans? Sure, it's all parades and pop songs while we're overseas fighting in the war, blowing the enemy to bits to keep the country free and pure, but then as soon as we come back from the damn war, they forget all about us.
When I was in the army, and we were stationed in the middle of nowhere, command even brought sexy foreign girls to the camps for us to have our way with. Where are my little foreign whores and parades now, Orninica? Where's the recognition for the sacrifices I've made so that the fat lazy youths of today can have their damn freedoms? Freedoms that they, quite frankly didn't earn and don't bloody well deserve to keep. I took a bullet in my elbow for this country, what have they done? I'll tell you what, absolutely squat all!
Take away all their freedoms, their video-games, their pornography, their rap music, their fancy running shoes and tracksuits that they wear to sit around all day picking their fat little noses. Put them all in forced labor camps for forty years and make them earn the right to live in this great land.
It's the only way to fix this country. And if they behave and get a good review every year from their supervisor, when they retire in forty years, maybe we can think about giving them back their games and music. That's the only time to be pursuing hobbies, when you're retired.
Not that I have any hobbies, mind you. I'm too busy for mindless distractions like that, and with any luck, after a full, working life, none of my forced laborers would want to waste time with hobbies, either. They'd get serious about life after working for a living, and spend their old age actually contributing to society, like I do with these letters I write to the newspapers telling them how to fix the country.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Judge II
Mr. Bobby Fifi, my dear boy, I'm writing to you regarding a matter of great significance. You don't know me, but I was a very close business associate, and dare I say, friend, of your late, great uncle. As his closest surviving blood relative, I'm afraid you're now going to have to take control of the Fifi empire. I know this is a daunting request for such a young pup to hear, but it is crucial that you rise to this challenge and meet it full on. The world needs the Fifi family, and after the terrible tragedy that has befallen us, you have no choice but to become what the nation requires you to become.
It's undoubtedly a lot to ask of a seven year old, but there's no other alternative. Without your strong leadership, the Fifi Corporation will simply collapse. Without the Fifi Corporation, the economy will surely end up in ruins. And without the economy, without the great market, where will we be? You must steer this colossal ship as best as you can to avert catastrophic collapse.
I would be very willing to be your right-hand dog in rebuilding your uncle's empire, if you'll have me. I am a nationally renowned and beloved judge, so you can surely trust that I would do my utmost to ensure the future prosperity of your great family. Your uncle trusted me above all his other advisors, and so can you.
In fact, your uncle recently took my advice and set in motion plans to establish a series of offshore holding facilities for Orninicans that have been stripped of their citizenship for committing despicable un-Orninican crimes. The documents are all written up and ready to be signed to begin the construction, and I was promised by your uncle a place on the board of directors for my part in the endeavor. His memory will always be cherished.
Of course, the other members of the board, including your wonderful parents, have died tragically, but I'd be a perfectly capable chairman of the board, and I could appoint new board members. We really have no time to mourn, business must continue for the good of everyone. Your parents would have certainly wanted you to sign these attached documents and begin the construction right away. They were very excited about the project. Very excited indeed.
You must understand, our futures, and in fact, our very lives depend on your ability to continue the legacy of the Fifi Corporation and amass greater and greater profits, like your uncle, and his father before him were able to. The offshore prison complexes on the drawing board are the first step you need to take towards financial security for yourself and for our families. Together, we can take the Fifi name to the next level. You're a very smart boy, a good boy, I know you'll do the right thing.
You know, I have a grandson about your age. He's a great fanatic of sports games. Perhaps you could entertain him on your island for a while? I'm sure he would love to meet you. It must be difficult for you, having nothing left but servants to talk to on that big scary island. I would of course come to the island with my grandson as his chaperon, and when you get a free moment, we could talk some business? If you'll just send your nice pilot to pick us up, we can be there in a ma
tter of hours. We'll even bring a sports ball to play with! Let me know what you think.
I was actually just speaking to your dear departed mother last Wednesday. She was telling me what a strong, intelligent boy you've become. How you'd make a very wise and brave leader one day. She was convinced you are much more mature and level-headed than all the other little boys your age. She was very proud of you, Mr. Fifi, very, very proud. If only you could see the happiness in her eyes as she spoke of you one day steering the captain's wheel of the corporation.
In fact, she happened to mention to me that if she and your father and your uncle and aunt were to pass away suddenly for some unforeseen reason, she would want you to take the brave initiative in leading the Fifi Corporation right away. She insisted that only you possess the sound reasoning and handsome good-looks to follow in the footsteps of your brilliant uncle.
Your beautiful, loving mother even gave me a special medallion that she said to give to you if anything should happen to her. If you'll just send your jet to pick me and my grandson up, I'll bring you this special shiny medallion right away. I'm keeping it safe for you in my jacket pocket, close to my heart. It's a very special medallion, because it signifies all her love for you, my boy. She was really quite adamant that I pass it on to you in the case of her untimely death.
I also have many other ideas for expanding the Fifi Corporation's reach that I sadly didn't have time to share with your uncle. For instance, wouldn't it be grand if there were a mandatory insurance policy for cyclists? It's a whole market that goes untapped. Anyone operating a motor vehicle has to buy insurance from one of your fine insurance firms, but cyclists, the freeloaders that they are, don't pay you a penny. This is simply outrageous. Why should these smug cheapskate bicycle riders receive special treatment when hard-working motorists have to purchase insurance year after year? It's just an unacceptable, unfathomable double standard.
I'm sure we can set about purchasing influence with whatever new government is formed in the days ahead, and convince how ever many of your uncle's representatives in the government remain alive to pass this innovative idea of mine into law. It makes a lot of sense, no?
Another of my many golden ideas involves privatizing traffic fines. Allowing the cities to continue to collect this hefty revenue source is outrageously socialistic. This is Orninica! We should set up a division of the Fifi Corporation to issue parking and moving violations, and process the payments. There's simply no excuse for the government to be collecting this revenue in a great capitalist society such as ours. We pay our taxes and that should be more than enough for them!
We can also greatly expand on the traffic code to create many more opportunities for revenue. Of course, we'd need to lower the speed limits drastically, triple the toll stations, hike up the tolls, turn the useless bicycle and bus lanes into exclusive gold-painted high-priced roads for use only by the wealthy, and generally make the roads safer and more expensive for everyone to drive on.
I know these ideas I have might be hard for you to understand, being such a little boy and having spent so much of your life on an insulated private island, but that's why it's so important that you appoint me as your trusted right hand. I can guide you in these important matters and help you make the correct decisions. You know it's the right thing to do, Mr. Fifi.
When I was a boy around your age, I set up my very own business washing cars in the neighborhood. I made quite a bit of money, too. Was able to buy all the sports cards and bubblegum I wanted. All the other little pups in town would waste their time everyday playing games and making a lot of noise. But I was a savvy little industrialist, I would wake up early every single morning and go to work knocking on doors and talking dogs into having their cars washed all through that summer. You see, I was a lot like you, Mr. Fifi, we have so much in common, and there's so much I can teach you if you'll only give me the chance.
You know what? I've had enough of this game you're playing. I wasn't always a judge, you know. I worked long and hard to get to where I am today, and I deserve to collect my just reward for a life of tireless service to your family. I have earned a place at the top of the corporate food chain, and I will receive my rightful dues. You will sign those documents right now.
I have no more patience for foolishness, you are a pup and I am a fully grown dog, an honorable judge of great social standing. You will do as I say or I will put you over my knee and spank you until you learn to give your elders the proper respect. Now do as I say or you'll regret every crossing me, you snot-nosed little ingrate.
I will not be ignored.
If you don't return these documents to me, fully signed and initialed, in the next twenty-four hours, I'm going to personally drag you off that grotty little island and lock you in a room in my penthouse until you learn to wise up and take your responsibilities as head of the company seriously.
I'll be waiting for your reply. And don't you dare show any of these communications to any of your servants, or I'll have them all removed from your service. Including your beloved little nanny. Now be a good boy and do as you're told.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Radio Personality II
I woke up today and it really hit me. I can't tell you how darned good it feels to be alive today. It was really a stroke of luck, if I weren't a morning radio host, getting to work at the crack of dawn everyday, I probably would have been in my limo when it went up in flames instead of here in the studio doing my show. Luckily, only my driver and my fourth wife, Dotty, were in the limo at the time of the explosions. He was new, so I didn't know him very well, but let's have a moment of silence for the guy. His name escapes me right now. Started with a Q or a K, I think. He was driving Dotty to her golf lesson when it happened.
We covered the catastrophe as it happened, live on the air, with interviews on the street and recorded audio from listeners that were on the scenes of the explosions. If you missed it yesterday, it was one hell of a show, probably in the top five we've ever done. Definitely one for the archives, and it'll be replaying all weekend. We're thinking of putting out a compilation of the highlights that you'll be able to buy on my website, but no guarantees yet.
We still don't know what happened exactly, if it was a freak accident or a deliberate terrorist attack, but we'll keep you updated if anything comes out. We do know a photo of a local restaurateur wanted for questioning is being circulated, but the police aren't saying if it's related to the Braniso event. Actually, the police aren't saying much of anything. Seems like a lot of the higher ups in the force drove Branisos.
Anyway, we can't dwell on the past all day, so on with the show.
Have you heard about this? Apparently there was this group of idiots living in the remote wilderness somewhere in the Oji desert, a bunch of idealistic hippies in this hacked-together village made of old tires or something, completely without electricity, without cars, without doctors, growing all their own food, raising their pups without any formal education. What the hell? Did I just step into the stone age or what?
Understandably, the government was up in arms, that these pups weren't going to school or getting a proper diet. So last week, they rightfully raided the place, shot anyone that resisted and dragged the surviving pups off. This 'back to the land' group were claiming the only education their pups needed was the 'ways of the land'. Yeah, sure. That'll buy them a lot of stuff. Why not teach them how to beg for food on the streets while you're at it? Damn idiots.
Anyway, so now the pups are on a hunger strike at their orphanage, just refusing to eat anything. Won't even talk to the media, just sit in silence all day. Talk about your ungrateful little twerps. The government goes out of its way to save these little ingrates from a miserable life of abuse, liberates them from these extreme idealists that forced them to spend all day farming and building little unsafe structures to live in out of discarded junk. They bring them to a nice orphanage where they've got all the food they need, warm beds, a proper education, drones outside to k
eep them safe. And what do they do? They go on strike. Only in Orninica, listeners.
Wish I could get those pups in the studio so I could tell them what's what. Tell them how the real world works, bring them back to reality a bit. Use some tough love on them. Tell them to stop acting like a bunch of idiot liberal socialist hippies like their parents and grow the hell up.
Look at all the freedoms these pups have been gifted with, look at everything they have available at their fingertips here in civilization. I bet there aren't any videogames in the middle of the Oji desert. Probably didn't even have a TV, just sat and watched a cactus all day. The clothes they were wearing when they retrieved them from the tire village looked like they were stitched together out of old wash rags, they looked completely ridiculous. If I went outside dressed like that when I was a pup, I would have gotten my ass kicked so hard by the other pups, I would've landed on the next street.
They were talking about putting feeding tubes in them last I heard. They should really just let them starve. They'll want to eat when they get hungry enough, and then we can give them a shovel and some boots and tell them, “Go on then. If you think you're so damn self sufficient, go dig for some food, you dirty little mongrels.”
I don't know, I really don't know. What is the country coming to? Everywhere you turn, there's some liberal browbeat trying to force his will on everyone else. It's sacrilege is what it is. At least the government did the right thing in this case, I have to give the props for that.
What really gets me going is the damn space program. How much money do we waste funding that? Billions. And for what? So a few astronauts can float around in space collecting rocks and space junk? I'm supposed to give 50% of everything I make to the government so they can turn around and pay a bunch of scientists to take a brisk morning walk in space?
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