Klouse (the K is silent) Swab, the boss of the World Ectoparasitic Floor’em, sat at his desk and frowned fearsomely. This was not unusual; in fact, it was his normal expression. However, the more he thought about his main duty for that day, the more emphatic his frown became, until it had transmogrified into a scowl of blood-curdling proportions.
For today it was his task to produce his annual reports on how his group of protégés – male, female and indeterminate – planted in various countries around the world, were doing. Were they following his orders and successfully destroying their respective countries, ready for the Great Leap to Reset, or were they not performing up to expectations? He usually did not enjoy this task, as often his ‘children’, as he mentally referred to them, made ridiculously stupid errors of judgement which required stern measures, often in the form of a penalty withdrawal of a few million dollars from the offender’s Swiss bank account.
His expression softened as he pulled the first file from the top of the pile on his desk. “Oh yes, my sweet wee favourite,” he whispered, and began to sing softly, ‘If you’re happy and you know it, something’s wrong’ as he perused the file. His secretary, Horst, seated nearby, noted that the file was that of Angela Murky, his premier pet.
“I don’t need to look at Angela’s results,” said Klouse to his secretary. “Give her A++s all round. She has been very skilled at moving Germany back to its dictatorial best.” He smiled dotingly.
The secretary made a note and waited as Klouse disgustedly eyed the pile. “I think we’ll do the politicians today,” said Klouse. “The others can wait until tomorrow. So put aside the files for Bill Yates, Smirk Slackerberg, the big pharma wallahs, the Googly goons and the other assorted minor minions.”
“Yes sir,” remarked Horst, as he pulled the deferred files out of the pile. When this was done, he took another file off the top of the now smaller stack. “Jackinda Trudern of Canada is next,” he said handing the file to Klouse, who opened it and began to peruse it.
“Ah yes,” Klouse muttered. “Not really one of ours; I rejected him for the WEF but he managed to get elected on his father’s name alone. That is, his perceived father. It’s almost certain that Fidel had a hand, in a manner of speaking, in the unfortunate appearance of this complete trottel [jerk, clown, blithering idiot, ninny, wally etc.] on the planet. He’s done better than I expected though. Canada is heading quite nicely to police state status under his rule. He’s calling anti-vaxxers non-believers in ‘the science’, misogynists and racists. Very good stuff… but he is a prat.” He thought deeply for a few moments. “Give him a B and a ‘Can do better’.”
“Yes sir,” barked Horst.
They worked their way through the pile as the day wore on. Emmanuel Microbe, Gavin Gruesome, Sebastian Kurse the former Chancellor of Austria – who received a D- for being forced to resign amid scandal – and a large number of other MPs and PMs from around the world.
At last, the final file for the day was reached.
“Justinda Ardeau of OurTearRoar,” stated Horst.
Klouse clutched the remaining four hairs upon his head and groaned. “Flüche und Übeltaten. Ich hatte dieses dumme Weibchen vergessen [Curses and maledictions. I had forgotten this stupid female], he muttered, burying his face in his hands. “The dumbest one of the lot… so stupid; remind me again how she got into the programme.”
“Recommended by Hellish Quark, sir,” replied Horst. “Somehow got to be President of the International Young Communists, was selected as a list MP sleeper agent in the OurTearRoar parliament in 2008, in which capacity she served with distinction by doing precisely nothing for nine years. Elevated to leadership by your intervention sir…”
“Ah yes, I remember,” growled Klouse. “We knew the planned fake pandemic was coming and that clown Angry Spittle couldn’t win a raffle if he had the only ticket, let alone any type of election. I was forced into it. She was the only half electable person in the party. What a sorry state that party is in.”
He rubbed his eyes wearily. “And yet, despite being such a Dummkopf, she has managed to irretrievably destroy the country’s economy, which was one of her tasks. And she’s managed to get a large chunk of the population medicated voluntarily, and has even managed to trick many of her people into having their children dosed. She has resolutely ignored the science and persisted with the ludicrous elimination policy. She has successfully kept thousands of her people from returning home to challenge her handling of the FowChee flu. With the collaboration of the leader of her soon to be unleashed Braunhemden [Brownshirts], Herr Streicheleinheiten Straßenhändler [Cuddles Costermonger], she has already started arresting dissident religious persons, such as that fellow, Brian Tamaki Makarau. Can you give an A+ to someone who has achieved the required result through pig-headed stupidity?” He scratched his head perplexedly. “What a dilemma,” he muttered. “What do you suggest, Horst?”
“Well sir, you can rely on her to doggedly pursue her present course no matter how much evidence there is showing that it is futile and stupid. She is quite prepared to sacrifice her country’s people for the good of ‘the cause’. Such blind, stupid ideology can be useful sir. Who knows, perhaps she would be a good guinea pig for your transhumanism experiments. If the experiments were successful she might even be able to answer simple unscripted questions without totally rejecting their premise.”
Klouse sighed heavily. “Yes, Horst, there is sense in what you say. An ideal guinea pig. Very well, give her an A and a ‘shows promise’. Now pour me a large and quick schnapps. And when you’ve done that, do it again repeatedly until I tell you to stop.”