The Emperor's Briefs

The Emperor of TVLand, looked down upon the handiworks of it's great machine, and smiled. "Heh, heh," He chortled, "Them ol' towel-heads gonna think twice before they try to nationalize another pipeline."

"Mr. Emperor," Said the Earl of Aerospace, looking over his round nearly frameless glasses. "The war has paid back the 84 billion dollars for Unocal's pipeline, but I was thinking. If we could squeeze 5 or 6 billion more out of this, we could all get new Mercedes, and spend a few weeks in Aspen."

"Not," said the Duke of Jedgar, "at the expense of the Holy War at Home. We must continue to jail these godless, liberals and foreigners. We must continue to reduce the Public School System to a training ground for more and more Minimum wage earners, the Mercedes won't do us any good unless we have enough rabble around to wash the cars, and act as a tax base for our profits." Looking more and more like Dr. Strangelove, the Duke of Jedgar rose in his place. "We must make sure that only White Christians, and only the right kind of White Christians, are the only one's who get a descent education. If the entire populace is well educated and relatively well off, they might catch on. Then where would we be?" The Duke thrust his arm out before him, and stopped midway, at a glance from the Earl of Aerospace.

The Emperor of TVLand put down his Briefing Memo, the latest copy of "Archie Comics", and said, "Huh?"

"The Wizard of the Airwaves is being assailed by these left-wing liberals who believe that laws apply to everyone equally," The Regent of Raygun had to pause for a brief spate of giggling as it made it's way around the table. "This is intolerable, if they manage to convict, it will make us look like Poo-poo."

"That's correct, your highness," added the Mage of Media, "The 'peepul' are starting to notice things, question the Mighty Force of Commerce, and all the cashola it means for us."

There was generalized harrumphing around the table, interrupted by the Earl of Aerospace, who was TVland's Minister of Offense.

"We have seen enough to know that things are not well with the sheet-heads, our military advisors are saying we need more cannon fodder, to protect the oil, er ah- Democracy, in the region. Many traitorous media outlets are broadcasting the truth, and that will never do."

"But I thought the newspapers were under control?" Chimed in the Duchess of Denver, who was also the Empire's Spy Master. "Besides with our Public Schools, who could read them?"

"Yes but the TV is not being completely "advised" by us. Some of them have footage of actual casualties, and you know what that means."

"A joint congressional hearing, that's what it means." Supplied the Mage of Media.

"But surely, we are unassailable. The Office of Homeland Espionage, and the Duke of Dirty Tricks have made sure that we can jail anyone we like, anytime." Opined the Duchess from Denver. "Let's just throw their lilly-white asses in the Hoosegow and be done with it?"

"We'd probably need a reason to jail a Congressman, or a Senator." Added the Duke Of Jedgar. "But we may be able to incarcerate a few newsanchors. With such limited vocabularies, they may not know the proper Latin legalese."

The Earl of Aerospace looked out from behind his round spectacles. "We will need a scapegoat, if we're going to beat this. Because the shit is gonna hit the fan if we don't keep this in check."

All eyes turned to the Duchess from Denver. It was a slow turning of the heads in the room, which would have been subtle under any other circumstances.

"Now just a cotton-picking minute." The Duchess' voice rose a full octave.

"After all Duchess, this is still the "Good Ol' BOYS" club; and it is mostly white boys." Said the Duke of Jedgar.

"Now look," explained the Earl Of Aerospace, "If you were smart and female, that's one thing. If you were smart and black, that would be OK. But to be a smart black woman.."

The Duke Of Jedgar brightened, growing visibly restless. "We have to give them someone's ass, and though I've never seen it, yours is the kind of ass that I'd like to -, that is, I've often imagined my -"

"Duke!" Cried the Earl Of Aerospace.

"Oh eh, sorry." The Duke Of Jedgar, looked slightly despondent. He whispered behind his hand to the Duchess. "Leather and lots of K-Y."

The Duchess could only sit mutely and blink rapidly.

The Emperor rolled his comic book, er Briefing Memo, into a tube and slapped the table with it. "Well, now that that's all settled, how about a round of golf?"

"That might not be a good idea , sir." Whispered the Mage of Media.

"Huh?" Replied the Emperor in his inimitable style. Rising and heading for the door.

"You don't play golf, sir. And you'll have to leave the Comic - eh the Briefing Memo here, sir."

"But I haven't finished 'Jughead's New Bike', yet."

"I'm sorry, sir. It's classified."

The Duchess from Denver sat mutely and blinked rapidly.

"Heh, heh. Hot Dogs for lunch, Oh boy!" Said the Emperor, rubbing his hand together. On the way out he aimed a sidekick at the little black dog, mumbling "Mangy mutt."