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Maarkoth the Destroyer surveyed the flaming fields of battle as his face cracked into a wide, toothy smile with many teeth showing. Anyone close enough to his heavily scarred visage would immediately notice the fangs that stuck out from his mouth as well as his horrendous breath, which smelled like the charred flesh of his enemies. Because it was.
“Today I will bring new peace to this land I have crushed beneath my large, iron boot,” Maarkoth the Destoryer said to his army of ninja beast-men. “I have fought bravely a many brave battle and this day I will plant my ancient., magic, battlesword “Eyeslasher” into the ground here at the site of battle and will forever more be a beacon to those enemies who would rise against us!!”
The beastman rose as one to chant “Markroth! Markroth!” Markroth the Detoyer then raised his battlesowrd “The Eyeslasher” high into the flaming red sky before slamming…
**********
Sir Edward Howell, Minister of the Interior, was taking tea in his quarters when a red-faced assistant stepped into the room.
“Sir Edward,” he said. “Terribly sorry to bother you but we think the Americans have declared war”
Howell lowered his teacup and stared a moment.
“You “think?” That’s really not the sort of thing one generally wonders about, Smith.” he replied. He beckoned for the papers.
“I’m very sorry to be vague but I think these will help clear things up,” Smith said as he handed Howell the notes. Howell squinted at the papers a few moments and then looked up.
“This can’t be real,” he said. “Whose idea of a joke is this?”
“I assure you they’re genuine. They came directly from the American embassy.”
Howell flipped through the paperwork and shook his head.
“They’re demanding fifty-thousand gold a year? This is absurd.” Howell shifted in his seat. “They want our eight largest cities as well as all our extra resources? Who the hell is this Markroth?”
Smith shrugged.
“We’ve no idea,” he said. “Perhaps he has supplanted President Lincoln. Regardless, this does seem official.”
“Official?” Howell snorted. “It looks like it was scrawled by a three-year-old. And besides, we’ve had nothing but peace with the Americans for more than five thousand years.” He tossed the papers on a nearby table and stood up.
“This is rubbish,” he said. “The Americans absolutely rely on our exports. If it weren’t for the British fur industry the American government would dissolve into anarchy.”
“Perhaps they’ve acquired their own sources of luxury items?” Smith suggested.
“Suppose they have,” Howell countered. “Even so, they’ve nothing to gain by attacking us. Number one, we’ve been their one true ally in all of recorded history.”
“And number two?” Smith asked.
“Number two is that as far as military readiness goes they’re a thousand years behind us,” Howell said. “While we’ve garrisoned our cities with modern infantry the Americans are running about with swords and axes. They couldn’t pick a decent fight with us if they tried.”
“They’ve tried,” said a voice at the door. Howell and Smith turned as Edna Davenport, Director of Foreign Affairs, came into the room.
“I beg your pardon?” Howell said.
“The Americans,” she said. “They’ve attacked Manchester.”
“Today I will bring new peace to this land I have crushed beneath my large, iron boot,” Maarkoth the Destoryer said to his army of ninja beast-men. “I have fought bravely a many brave battle and this day I will plant my ancient., magic, battlesword “Eyeslasher” into the ground here at the site of battle and will forever more be a beacon to those enemies who would rise against us!!”
The beastman rose as one to chant “Markroth! Markroth!” Markroth the Detoyer then raised his battlesowrd “The Eyeslasher” high into the flaming red sky before slamming…
**********
Sir Edward Howell, Minister of the Interior, was taking tea in his quarters when a red-faced assistant stepped into the room.
“Sir Edward,” he said. “Terribly sorry to bother you but we think the Americans have declared war”
Howell lowered his teacup and stared a moment.
“You “think?” That’s really not the sort of thing one generally wonders about, Smith.” he replied. He beckoned for the papers.
“I’m very sorry to be vague but I think these will help clear things up,” Smith said as he handed Howell the notes. Howell squinted at the papers a few moments and then looked up.
“This can’t be real,” he said. “Whose idea of a joke is this?”
“I assure you they’re genuine. They came directly from the American embassy.”
Howell flipped through the paperwork and shook his head.
“They’re demanding fifty-thousand gold a year? This is absurd.” Howell shifted in his seat. “They want our eight largest cities as well as all our extra resources? Who the hell is this Markroth?”
Smith shrugged.
“We’ve no idea,” he said. “Perhaps he has supplanted President Lincoln. Regardless, this does seem official.”
“Official?” Howell snorted. “It looks like it was scrawled by a three-year-old. And besides, we’ve had nothing but peace with the Americans for more than five thousand years.” He tossed the papers on a nearby table and stood up.
“This is rubbish,” he said. “The Americans absolutely rely on our exports. If it weren’t for the British fur industry the American government would dissolve into anarchy.”
“Perhaps they’ve acquired their own sources of luxury items?” Smith suggested.
“Suppose they have,” Howell countered. “Even so, they’ve nothing to gain by attacking us. Number one, we’ve been their one true ally in all of recorded history.”
“And number two?” Smith asked.
“Number two is that as far as military readiness goes they’re a thousand years behind us,” Howell said. “While we’ve garrisoned our cities with modern infantry the Americans are running about with swords and axes. They couldn’t pick a decent fight with us if they tried.”
“They’ve tried,” said a voice at the door. Howell and Smith turned as Edna Davenport, Director of Foreign Affairs, came into the room.
“I beg your pardon?” Howell said.
“The Americans,” she said. “They’ve attacked Manchester.”
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