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Time to Take Out the Trash
The select indian government ministers took their place on the stage infront of the masses of people. It was Gandhi's idea to host the discussion infront of the nation to increase the people's interest in foreign affairs. Each of the 10 members stood along the back of the stage under the enormous row of speakers overhead as Gandhi stepped up to the mike to speak first. In his right hand he carried the treasured briefcase given to him by Bush as a gift several years before during a visit to his ranch. He had never opened the briefcase in public so it was a great mystery to all what was in it. He laid the briefcase down beside him in his characteristic manner.
The crowd of over 2,000,000 hushed as Gandhi's somewhat feeble and calm voice came from the great speakers which were regularly used in the rock concerts so dear to the new generation. Although the crowd was respectfully silent, few listened because they had heard too many times his boring and repetitive lectures on peace and harmony in the world.
"Loving and gentle people of New Delhi, first I would like to congratulate all of you who work so hard in the fields, mines and factories producing the great quantities of goods our neighbouring nations so righteously request from us regularly. I want you to know how pleased they are with us and look upon us not with eyes of greed as the opposition has claimed so often, but with peaceful and caring eyes loving us as brothers. For Putin himself told me just yesterday, after his latest requisition for gold and indian cotton, that the tender-hearted russians have our every interest in mind. Remember that when you are toiling under the blazing sun in the cotton fields or trying to move a stubborn ox down the crowded streets of Calcutta carrying goods bound for Russia. Remember this as you live in utter poverty, some of you even starving in your own homes while piles of our wheat is being bundled up and sent to feed the russian peasantry."
Gandhi continued, seemingly oblivious to the majority of the crowd drifting off in daydreams,"....violence simply breeds more violence...appeasement is the answer...give the shirt off your back to them before resorting to the sword..."
But then for the first time in his 10 years of leadership, his voice suddenly changed to like that of an enraged siberian tiger, snapping the audience from their stupor. Never before had he ever addressed the nation with such a voice of vengeful anger. Ever since grade school when Gandhi was picked on for being a "scrawny little runt" he had responded to threats by being a "good little boot-licker" as the bullies' leader Bulbeeto had liked to call him.
Gandhi's voice shook the crowd with it's raw passion, "Do you know what the last thing I said to Putin was yesterday? I told him to go break a vodka bottle over his chrome dome! That's right! That's what I said! This is not the way we should live. We must stop being yellow-bellied cowards and stand up! I say to you WAR is the answer! WAR I say! We will kill every man, woman, dog, chicken and cat in that vile cesspool known as Russia!" The crowd became like stone for a moment and then softly at first, rising to a crescendo came the chant, "Gandhi...Gandhi...Gandhi...GANDHI!!" The power of the collective voices echoed into the mountains and over the fields causing the workers there to halt and look up to the sky as if to see the war god Daliwog herself descending from the heavens to wreak vengence upon India's enemies.
The muslim opposition minister, Bulbeeto Gulop, rushed to the mike as Gandhi, euphoric at the effect of his words upon the crowd, retired to the back of the stage. Gandhi particularly hated Bulbeeto, not just because he bore the same name as the bully leader of his painful school days, but because he used every trick he could think of to try and upset Gandhi's popularity with the people. The muslim party had lost the last 4 elections against the hindus and now was no time to give up.
Bulbeeto yelled into the mike to try to be heard over the crowd. "No, this is wrong! We can never survive against Russia! They have massed armies of new heavy tanks and millions of well-equipped soldiers with machine-guns and rocket-propelled grenades on our border. We have only indian knights and swordsmen to hold then back. This is outrageous." The chanting of the crowd died out for Bulbeeto had spoken the awful truth. Gandhi had so relied on appeasement to keep russia happy that there was virtually no army at all to protect india.
Bulbeeto sensed his chance, "Peace and appeasement are the only answer!" Gandhi's euphoria transformed, for Bulbeeto had spoken the hated p-word which had kept Gandhi's hands tied since his early childhood. This coupled with his long-standing and carefully hidden hatred of Bulbeeto, made him commit the galvanizing act. The finale which would forge the people into a deadly war machine living purely to fullfil it's insatiable desire for complete revenge. Gandhi's thumb tightened on the handle of the briefcase pushing the tiny button to set off the speakers roaring with AC/DC's Thunderstruck. Millions of watts of power nearly blew the eardrums out of all in the crowd. Gandhi visciously shook the briefcase causing the sides to fall off, revealing an H&K MPK5 submachinegun with double-sized clip. He leveled the gun at Bulbeeto who stood frozen with fear seeing the vile look of total hatred on Gandhi's once peaceful face. Gandhi let rip the entire magazine into Bulbeeto who appeared to be dancing for the longest moment as the jacketed rounds literally ripped his body to shreds. The front rows of people in the crowd were sprayed across their faces with blood and guts but they seemed not to notice and again began the hyponotizing chant,"..Gandhi...Gandhi...GANDHI..."
A Jolly Little Cup of Tea with the British PM Blair
India had yet to learn how to build airplanes. For them the flying machines were engineering works of arts which they had no hope of ever learning how they worked. The most state-of-the-art thing in India was the cart being pulled by the ox.
Therefore Britain and the United States, both good friends and allies of India, each provided Gandhi with a private jet crewed by their respective nations' people, to bring him to their countries to talk international politics. He was only supposed to use the jet to travel to political meetings overseas but of course Gandhi used it to impress his girlfriends on dates. On the way to London, Gandhi sat in the small jet, earphones blaring the lastest heavy metal from Calcutta, while he passed time on the long flight reading Sun Tsu's Art of War, playing Tekken IV on the Playstation console or just staring out the window at the clouds. His war minister Ballrash swore he saw gandhi mouth the "war" several times with passionate eyes during the time he spent staring out the window.
Many hours later Gandhi and his ministers, minus Bulbeeto, stood before the British Prime Minister Blair and his cronies. Blair opened the discussion with his usual cordial greetings. "Good evening to you Gandhi and welcome to all your surviving ministers. You must be tired after your long flight from New Delhi to London. Place make yourself at home. So Gandhi tell me how are the diligent people of India doing these days."
In Gandhi's mind he thought, "Fool. They are working day and night to pay you for that stupid mutual protection pact which is forcing me to come all the way here just to ask you to get your arrogant behinds in action to help us against the evil russians."
Gandhi, however, chose his spoken words a little more diplomatically, "Tony, how 'bout we just get down to business then? There is an important matter for us to discuss."
Blair's face became solemn for he had been well-informed about both Gandhi's ill-fated meeting with Putin and the juicy speech. News travelled fast in the modern world of cell phones and video conferencing, except in India of course where the fastest means of communication was yelling out your window and hoping to be heard by someone several buildings away.
"Yes Gandhi, we were....we were...stunned by your speech yesterday to say the least. Considering that we are tied to you by our alliance..."
Gandhi's mind filled with anger,"The idiot. He signed that pact just to get our goods and drag my poor country into any war he decided to set off. He has no concern about the welfare of India. I'd like to kick him where it counts."
Blair chose his words carefully, "...we had hoped in your negotiations with Putin you would have aspired to maintain...", but not carefully enough, "peace and harmony...."
Blair was unable to complete the sentence. For he had uttered the dreaded p-word, now forbidden upon pain of death to be spoken anywhere in India or in Gandhi's presence. Gandhi whirled around like a majestic dancer with his robes flowing gracefully through the air, and his hand smacked across the side of Blair's face. The force of the blow in turn made Blair spin around like a figure-skater in a well-practiced routine landing him heavily against the wall. Gandhi considered a follow-up kick to Blair's ribcage as he slumped down to the floor but the other ministers constrained him.
As the British ministers stood horror-stricken with hands over mouths, Blair stood up and quickly regained his composure as if nothing had happened. It would have seemed nothing had happened but for the perfectly deep red outline of Gandhi's hand on the side of Blair's face.
"So we can count on the support of our British allies in the upcoming war can we not?" Gandhi's voice trailed upward in the confidence of a deal in the making.
"Of course. We are bound by the terms of our mutual protection pact so you can expect our full support." Blair spoke words he absolutely would rather not have spoken, silently promising never to make another deal with India again.
In Gandhi's mind there was only satisfaction he had never experienced before in his weak-kneed life as he thought,"Yes and perhaps more than partially convinced by my hand-print on your soddy old face! If he doesn't fullfil the terms of the pact I'll strangle him with a turban dragged through our open sewers!"
The select indian government ministers took their place on the stage infront of the masses of people. It was Gandhi's idea to host the discussion infront of the nation to increase the people's interest in foreign affairs. Each of the 10 members stood along the back of the stage under the enormous row of speakers overhead as Gandhi stepped up to the mike to speak first. In his right hand he carried the treasured briefcase given to him by Bush as a gift several years before during a visit to his ranch. He had never opened the briefcase in public so it was a great mystery to all what was in it. He laid the briefcase down beside him in his characteristic manner.
The crowd of over 2,000,000 hushed as Gandhi's somewhat feeble and calm voice came from the great speakers which were regularly used in the rock concerts so dear to the new generation. Although the crowd was respectfully silent, few listened because they had heard too many times his boring and repetitive lectures on peace and harmony in the world.
"Loving and gentle people of New Delhi, first I would like to congratulate all of you who work so hard in the fields, mines and factories producing the great quantities of goods our neighbouring nations so righteously request from us regularly. I want you to know how pleased they are with us and look upon us not with eyes of greed as the opposition has claimed so often, but with peaceful and caring eyes loving us as brothers. For Putin himself told me just yesterday, after his latest requisition for gold and indian cotton, that the tender-hearted russians have our every interest in mind. Remember that when you are toiling under the blazing sun in the cotton fields or trying to move a stubborn ox down the crowded streets of Calcutta carrying goods bound for Russia. Remember this as you live in utter poverty, some of you even starving in your own homes while piles of our wheat is being bundled up and sent to feed the russian peasantry."
Gandhi continued, seemingly oblivious to the majority of the crowd drifting off in daydreams,"....violence simply breeds more violence...appeasement is the answer...give the shirt off your back to them before resorting to the sword..."
But then for the first time in his 10 years of leadership, his voice suddenly changed to like that of an enraged siberian tiger, snapping the audience from their stupor. Never before had he ever addressed the nation with such a voice of vengeful anger. Ever since grade school when Gandhi was picked on for being a "scrawny little runt" he had responded to threats by being a "good little boot-licker" as the bullies' leader Bulbeeto had liked to call him.
Gandhi's voice shook the crowd with it's raw passion, "Do you know what the last thing I said to Putin was yesterday? I told him to go break a vodka bottle over his chrome dome! That's right! That's what I said! This is not the way we should live. We must stop being yellow-bellied cowards and stand up! I say to you WAR is the answer! WAR I say! We will kill every man, woman, dog, chicken and cat in that vile cesspool known as Russia!" The crowd became like stone for a moment and then softly at first, rising to a crescendo came the chant, "Gandhi...Gandhi...Gandhi...GANDHI!!" The power of the collective voices echoed into the mountains and over the fields causing the workers there to halt and look up to the sky as if to see the war god Daliwog herself descending from the heavens to wreak vengence upon India's enemies.
The muslim opposition minister, Bulbeeto Gulop, rushed to the mike as Gandhi, euphoric at the effect of his words upon the crowd, retired to the back of the stage. Gandhi particularly hated Bulbeeto, not just because he bore the same name as the bully leader of his painful school days, but because he used every trick he could think of to try and upset Gandhi's popularity with the people. The muslim party had lost the last 4 elections against the hindus and now was no time to give up.
Bulbeeto yelled into the mike to try to be heard over the crowd. "No, this is wrong! We can never survive against Russia! They have massed armies of new heavy tanks and millions of well-equipped soldiers with machine-guns and rocket-propelled grenades on our border. We have only indian knights and swordsmen to hold then back. This is outrageous." The chanting of the crowd died out for Bulbeeto had spoken the awful truth. Gandhi had so relied on appeasement to keep russia happy that there was virtually no army at all to protect india.
Bulbeeto sensed his chance, "Peace and appeasement are the only answer!" Gandhi's euphoria transformed, for Bulbeeto had spoken the hated p-word which had kept Gandhi's hands tied since his early childhood. This coupled with his long-standing and carefully hidden hatred of Bulbeeto, made him commit the galvanizing act. The finale which would forge the people into a deadly war machine living purely to fullfil it's insatiable desire for complete revenge. Gandhi's thumb tightened on the handle of the briefcase pushing the tiny button to set off the speakers roaring with AC/DC's Thunderstruck. Millions of watts of power nearly blew the eardrums out of all in the crowd. Gandhi visciously shook the briefcase causing the sides to fall off, revealing an H&K MPK5 submachinegun with double-sized clip. He leveled the gun at Bulbeeto who stood frozen with fear seeing the vile look of total hatred on Gandhi's once peaceful face. Gandhi let rip the entire magazine into Bulbeeto who appeared to be dancing for the longest moment as the jacketed rounds literally ripped his body to shreds. The front rows of people in the crowd were sprayed across their faces with blood and guts but they seemed not to notice and again began the hyponotizing chant,"..Gandhi...Gandhi...GANDHI..."
A Jolly Little Cup of Tea with the British PM Blair
India had yet to learn how to build airplanes. For them the flying machines were engineering works of arts which they had no hope of ever learning how they worked. The most state-of-the-art thing in India was the cart being pulled by the ox.
Therefore Britain and the United States, both good friends and allies of India, each provided Gandhi with a private jet crewed by their respective nations' people, to bring him to their countries to talk international politics. He was only supposed to use the jet to travel to political meetings overseas but of course Gandhi used it to impress his girlfriends on dates. On the way to London, Gandhi sat in the small jet, earphones blaring the lastest heavy metal from Calcutta, while he passed time on the long flight reading Sun Tsu's Art of War, playing Tekken IV on the Playstation console or just staring out the window at the clouds. His war minister Ballrash swore he saw gandhi mouth the "war" several times with passionate eyes during the time he spent staring out the window.
Many hours later Gandhi and his ministers, minus Bulbeeto, stood before the British Prime Minister Blair and his cronies. Blair opened the discussion with his usual cordial greetings. "Good evening to you Gandhi and welcome to all your surviving ministers. You must be tired after your long flight from New Delhi to London. Place make yourself at home. So Gandhi tell me how are the diligent people of India doing these days."
In Gandhi's mind he thought, "Fool. They are working day and night to pay you for that stupid mutual protection pact which is forcing me to come all the way here just to ask you to get your arrogant behinds in action to help us against the evil russians."
Gandhi, however, chose his spoken words a little more diplomatically, "Tony, how 'bout we just get down to business then? There is an important matter for us to discuss."
Blair's face became solemn for he had been well-informed about both Gandhi's ill-fated meeting with Putin and the juicy speech. News travelled fast in the modern world of cell phones and video conferencing, except in India of course where the fastest means of communication was yelling out your window and hoping to be heard by someone several buildings away.
"Yes Gandhi, we were....we were...stunned by your speech yesterday to say the least. Considering that we are tied to you by our alliance..."
Gandhi's mind filled with anger,"The idiot. He signed that pact just to get our goods and drag my poor country into any war he decided to set off. He has no concern about the welfare of India. I'd like to kick him where it counts."
Blair chose his words carefully, "...we had hoped in your negotiations with Putin you would have aspired to maintain...", but not carefully enough, "peace and harmony...."
Blair was unable to complete the sentence. For he had uttered the dreaded p-word, now forbidden upon pain of death to be spoken anywhere in India or in Gandhi's presence. Gandhi whirled around like a majestic dancer with his robes flowing gracefully through the air, and his hand smacked across the side of Blair's face. The force of the blow in turn made Blair spin around like a figure-skater in a well-practiced routine landing him heavily against the wall. Gandhi considered a follow-up kick to Blair's ribcage as he slumped down to the floor but the other ministers constrained him.
As the British ministers stood horror-stricken with hands over mouths, Blair stood up and quickly regained his composure as if nothing had happened. It would have seemed nothing had happened but for the perfectly deep red outline of Gandhi's hand on the side of Blair's face.
"So we can count on the support of our British allies in the upcoming war can we not?" Gandhi's voice trailed upward in the confidence of a deal in the making.
"Of course. We are bound by the terms of our mutual protection pact so you can expect our full support." Blair spoke words he absolutely would rather not have spoken, silently promising never to make another deal with India again.
In Gandhi's mind there was only satisfaction he had never experienced before in his weak-kneed life as he thought,"Yes and perhaps more than partially convinced by my hand-print on your soddy old face! If he doesn't fullfil the terms of the pact I'll strangle him with a turban dragged through our open sewers!"
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