Fritz nervously cleared his throat as he cautiously entered the office of Klouse (the K is silent) Swab, the supreme führer of the WEF (Wicked Eugenicist Fascists).
He was right to be cautious. At the best of times Klouse was of uncertain temperament, but this natural inclination was further deepened when circumstances required him to mingle with his WEF world leadership puppets, and an example of such mingling had just occurred on his recent visit to China.
Although they had been programmed to obey orders “vizout qvestion”, there were sometimes hiccups amongst the leaders due to factors such as faulty programming by an incompetent mind controller, wrong mind compartments being opened accidentally by random strangers unknowingly using a trigger phrase, plain stupidity, or the very occasional leader attempting to go rogue. Living on this knife edge when fraternising with the leaders tended to make Klouse suffer from Irritable Scowl Syndrome.
He also found his leaders to be a rather annoying bunch even in ideal circumstances, and often wondered why his organisation tended to attract such idioten, whereas the more intelligent potential candidates tended to be very resistant to the ideology espoused by the WEF and were difficult to subject to the influence of mind controllers.
Knowing these facts, having learnt them from bitter experience, Fritz (Klouse’s private secretary), was therefore dismayed to note that Klouse was staring at his computer screen, wearing the constipated llama expression, which indicated that the great führer was in a state of negative gruntlement.
Fritz cleared his throat nervously and loudly enough to catch the ear of the great leader. Klouse looked up and espied Fritz.
“Vot is it that you are vanting, Fritz?” he snapped. “Did I not tell you that I craved privacy except under ze circumstances exceptional? I am in the recovery mode from my recent Chinese trip, where I had the misfortune to be meeting that Chopkins fellow. You know, ze one who replaced that Ardeau creature viz ze fangs gigantic.”
“I know both of the leaders to whom you refer,” responded Fritz. “It is indeed the Chopkins fellow who is the reason for my presence in your presence.”
Klouse changed colour like a psychedelic chameleon at the mention of the name. A crimson shade spread from his neck upwards, followed by succeeding waves of intensifying richness, up to a purple shade that was not far off being black. “The Chopkins säugling [infant, suckling, babe in arms]! What is it zat he has now done?” roared Klouse.
“He has phoned a message to you, which he insists is of the utmost urgency, and should be delivered to you immediately,” said Fritz. “He says that you will understand, as a result of the warm friendship which blossomed between you and him at the China meeting.”
Klouse choked and turned completely black in the face. After a half minute or so of deep breathing he was able to talk, and did so. “Friendship!” he spluttered. “Freundschaft! I, Klouse Swab, ze future führer of ze vorld a friend of that verrückte [lunatic], for verrückt he must be to be such a thought thinking. I haff no friends, as you well know, Fritz. But very vell, let us over get this unpleasantness, schnell. Rasch rasch, Fritz!”
“I will read his message exactly as transcribed from his call,” said Fritz. “You will please excuse me if some words are unfamiliar to me.”
Klouse nodded and Fritz proceeded nervously. “‘Hi there Klouse, me new mate…’”
“Vot is this ‘mate’ nonsense?” interrupted Klouse. “Does he wish me to marry? Why he me his mate calls? I haff no time for this romantisches zeug [romantic stuff].”
“Nein, nein”, said Fritz, “I think that this is just local slang for friend. I will continue. ‘It was really choice to meet you in China, eh bro. I wanted to check with you old cobber, that you really meant it when you told me that your leaders don’t lose elections. It’s just that I have a few domestic problems here in OurTearRoar, and I’m a bit scared that I might… you know, lose, because, to put it frankly, my, I mean Justinda’s, government has kind of made a bit of a pig’s ear of running the country and I’m a bit worried that there could be a few voters who have noticed this. So if you can reassure me that I can’t lose, I would sleep a bit better, old mate. Ta and thanks.’”
“Does he think I care if he better or vorse sleeps?” roared Klouse. “And why he talks of schweineohren [pigs’ ears]? The boy is a fool being. Like ze vezzer-vane he is always his direction changing. Just tell him Fritz, that ve haff vays of elections vinning, but if he ever again me bothers, I will make sure he is losing and the airline fellow is vinning. Tell him to be studying the Chinese system, which I am planning to implement in ze Brave New Transhuman World and of which I heartily approve. Furthermore, tell him that when I call him a friend it is for purposes only of propaganda and I would as soon be a friend of his schweineohren. Tell him…”
At this point Klouse ran out of puff, and his colour had reached a luminosity rarely seen on the spectrum. Fritz feared that if unchecked, Klouse might spontaneously combust, and he would be the one charged with the task of disposing of the resultant carbon on the carpet. Therefore he soothingly said, “Don’t worry sir. I will pass on the message. Can I bring you some schnapps sir?”
“Yes Fritz, bring me a large schnapps or several,” said Klouse, sinking into his chair, shaking visibly.
“Would you prefer the cricket or the millipede schnapps?” enquired Fritz.
Klouse clapped his hands to his head. “Nein,” he shouted. “That is for ze peasants. Bring me ze schnapps schnapps at vonce.”
Fritz glided out of the room to do his master’s bidding.