Consequences of Uncontrolled Gluttony - Part 1
[Scene: The Zerg Canadian Underground Lair. Halloween is over, but its legacy (and repercussions) are already beginning to be felt by the Zerg Canadians. An uncountable number of goodie bags are strewn about amongst the Canuckalisks, who are drooped about like so many rags, sick to their eight stomachs. Cydric and Turtle are likewise postured, though since they only had three stomachs apiece, they couldn’t have consumed as much candy as even a single Canuckalisk.]
Turtle: (Groans) Ugh…Cydric, I TOLD you that raiding that Mars Bar candy factory wasn’t a good idea.
Cydric: Well, it was a better idea than all of those holes you dug to catch Trick or Treaters in.
Turtle: Ick…don’t remind me. I’m still picking pieces of that one boy’s Mummy costume out of my teeth. Too stringy!
[Ravil, the King of the Canuckalisks, seems to be the only one in the Underground Lair who has not made a glutton out of himself on Halloween Night. This could be due in part to his complete lack of imagination in finding a costume, as well as the will to maintain his reputation as a spoil-sport. He is seated on his throne, ignoring for the most part the moaning and groaning of his minions, watching the news on his hovering High-tech Communications Thingy, the H.C.T.]
H.C.T.: …and that concludes our segment on how to punish your pet rabbits so that they’ll listen to you next time.
Ravil: Hosenfeffer Stew comes to mind…
H.C.T: In other news, an epidemic is sweeping across the United States on the day after Halloween. For undetermined reasons, there was an exceptionally large amount of candy passing through the system this year. Thousands reported in sick today across the nation, parents and children alike. But an even more tragic result of this Halloween gluttony is quickly becoming evident. Back in 1992, the American Congress, acting under the Energy Policy and Conservation Act, banned 3.5-gallon-per-flush toilets from being sold in the United States. Instead, American citizens are forced to buy 1.6-gallon-per-flush toilets, which use less than half the water. This has saved a lot of water in the past, but this year, things are getting…well, slightly clogged up from all of that excessive candy. Thousands of 1.6-gallon toilets are backed up and clogged this morning, with plumbers being powerless to keep up with all of the calls. Fortunately, we up here in Canada do not have that problem, as 3.5-gallon-per-flush toilets are readily avalible to the public.
[Slowly yet surely, an idea begins to form in Ravil’s mind. Finally, a wicked grin begins to spread across his face. Don’t try to picture a Hydralisk smiling…it’s not a pretty sight.]
Ravil: (Slowly) That’s…it…THAT’S IT! MUAHAHAHAHA!
Cydric: (Rolling himself over to the throne) What…OOF…is…OOF…it…OOF…sire?
Ravil: (That old crazed look returning to his eyes) Our plans to take over the United States, Cydric! I’ve figured out a way to do it! But we’ll have to act fast. Get Emperor Fron of the Canadian Dominion on the line immediately!
[Cydric obediently rolls himself over to the H.C.T., where he reaches up, battling gravity all the way, and fiddles with the transmission until Fron’s face appears on the screen.]
Fron: Jasmine, about last night, that was just…oh, hi Ravil. What can I do ya for?
Ravil: Greetings, Emperor Fron. I’ve just come up with a new way to conquer the United States.
Fron: (Absently) That’s nice…
Ravil: But I need your help.
Fron: (Rather transfixed with the Sports Network on another channel) Mmm-hmmm…
Ravil: You have direct control over much of Canada’s manufacturing out in Ontario. We need to borrow some of that production capability for a little while.
Fron: Right, right…
Ravil: What we need is the direct control of manufacturing and distribution of all 3.5-gallon toilets in Eastern Canada. As soon as possible.
Fron: (Annoyed) Toilets? You called me up this early in the morning to talk about TOILETS?!?
Ravil: (Wickedly) That’s right.
Fron: What the hell would you Zerg want toilets fo…okay, never mind. I don’t really want to know. But what’s in it for me?
Ravil: Hmmm…I hadn’t really thought about that. What do you want?
Fron: In return for control of our toilet industry, you have to…uh, give us all rights retaining to West Edmonton Mall, which your Canuckalisks have been using as a…you know…since the Yimotian invasion. We want it back.
Ravil: (Snorts) Since the Yimotian invasion, that’s about all it’s been good for. Ah well…we can always use Medicine Hat for that purpose. All right, Fron. You have yourself a deal. The toilet industry for West Edmonton Mall.
Fron: (Nods curtly) Very well…I’ll have the preperations made down here immediately. Emperor Fron out.
[The H.C.T. goes silent again, along with all of the ill Zerg Canadians in the room, as they await Ravil’s next instructions.]
Ravil: Pack up your bags, my minions! We’re going to Ontario! And after that…it’s on to the United States!
Turtle: (Under his breath) Again…
[Scene: The White House, Washington D.C. The seat of power of the American executive branch. Arguably the most important building in the free world, excluding the nearest Burger King. Lately this house has been rocked, shaken, and beaten down with the latest sex scandal, which only Americans would ever care about. Some have said that the current administration should be dragged out into the street and shot to be put out of its misery. But no…that would be letting them off easy. Anyway, this morning after Halloween, the President is not seated at his desk as usual. Instead, he is in the bathroom. And yes, he is alone for once.]
President: Oooohhh…one night of indiscretion, and you regret it forevor…
Secret Service Agent: (Outside the door, though there are sixteen listening devices inside the bathroom, even in the most unlikely places) Another intern, sir?
President: No, idiot! The candy! Ooohhhhh…
[After about twenty minutes of events which I will not put down on paper due to their revolting nature, the President pulls up his pants and flushes the toilet. At first, all seems normal. But then, there is a gurgling sound from inside the toilet (which is, of course, 1.6-gallon), and soon all of the…stuff…starts to come back up.]
President: (Groans) Oh boy. This is the last thing that I need. Agent Wilfred! Get in here and take care of this toilet immediately!
[The Secret Service agent barges into the bathroom, sidearm drawn, and starts firing relentlessly at the toilet. Seconds later, it is full of holes, and leaking all over the White House floor.]
President: Stop! STOP YOU FOOL!
Agent: (Ceases fire and speaks into his radio piece) Threat neutralized.
President: Great. Now there’s a clogged-up toilet that’s full of holes. (Pauses as that bad old feeling returns) AND I’VE GOT TO GO AGAIN!
[The President runs out of his office, banging on every latrine in the White House. Unfortunately, the rest of the building’s staff also consumed rather generous amounts of candy the night before, and there is no vacancy in the entire place.]
President: (Looking around in desperation for the nearest place to…you know…and spots the briefcase which contains the launch codes for all of America’s nuclear arsenal) Yes! YES!! (He lunges forward and opens the bag, just as…)
[Scene: The heart and soul of the Canadian toilet industry, a manufacturing plant near Windsor, Ontario (southeast of London, Fron’s capital). Ravil, Cydric, and Turtle, accompanied by a number of Canuckalisks, have made it across the nation in record time…again. How they tunnel so fast is conveniently left unmentioned.]
Chief Engineer: Emperor Fron has ordered that all of our toilet-manufacturing and distributing capabilities be put at your disposal, sir. Congratulations.
Ravil: It came at a high price. I had to sacrifice a wonderful Canuckalisk-crap dumping ground to get this place. But it will be worth it, I’m sure. Now…I want you to increase production of 3.5-gallon-per-flush toilets by 500%. Use whatever resources you can get your hands on. If you have to make 3.5-gallon toilets out of straw, I don’t care. Just make them. Is that understood?
CE: Yes sir. May I ask what they are for, sir?
Ravil: I don’t have time to explain right now…we’re due over at the broadcasting studio in fifteen minutes. Just get started on making as many toilets as possible, understood?
CE: Yes sir.
[Scene: Shortly after, in the Dominon of Canada’s official broadcasting house, in London. Again, the Zerg Canadians have managed to set a new record for travel. How? Um…they’re very, very good at tunnelling. Yeah, that’s it.]
Ravil: So, you’re sure that you can hack into ALL of the American TV stations at the same time?
Gunslinger: Sure thing. All of the operators should be hunched over their toilets right now.
Ravil: True. Okay, get ready for broadcast.
[Scene: Every living room in America that currently has a TV turned on. Most of the rooms are vacant, as their usual occupants are either in the bathrooms relieving themselves or trying desperately to unclog their measely 1.6-gallon-per-flush toilets. Suddenly, no matter what station they happen to be tuned in to, Ravil’s face appears upon the TV set.]
Ravil: …we on yet? Oh. Good day, people of America! Ravil, King of the Canuckalisks here. I’m on the air today to tell you about something that all of you poor, pathetic little people don’t have that you ALL wish you did. You know what I’m talking about.
[Camera pans over to where Turtle and Cydric are currently showing off a brand-new 3.5-gallon-per-flush toilet. The words DRAMATIZATION flash along the bottom of the screen.]
Cydric: Gee Turtle, I sure am glad that I had this nifty 3.5-gallon-per-flush toilet on the day after Halloween. This thing NEVER clogs up.
Turtle: (Reading off of a script) Right Cydric! Unlike those American 1.6-gallon-per-flush toilets, which clog up ALL THE TIME.
[By now, every man, woman, and child in America who has heard this broadcast is now glued to the TV. The camera pans back over to a close-up of Ravil.]
Ravil: But here’s the catch, folks. Your own bad, evil, and sadistic government won’t let you purchase these wonderful 3.5-gallon-per-flush toilets down in the United States, just to save a little bit of water. But who cares about water when you have to puke your guts all over the toilet after eating too much candy? Do YOU?
[Everybody in America shakes their heads.]
Ravil: Do YOU really want all of that…stuff…coming back up at you when your toilet clogs up?
[Everybody in America shakes their heads rigorously.]
Ravil: Up here in Canada, though, you can buy 3.5-gallon-per-flush toilets for the low, low price of only ten thousand dollars! Doesn’t that seem resonable to YOU?
[Everybody in America nods their heads, eyes growing wide as the camera sweeps back dramatically to a picture of their salvation, the 3.5-gallon-per-flush toilet.]
Turtle: (Snickering) And aren’t YOU all incredibly gullible?
[Everybody in America nods their heads again.]
Ravil: Shut up! Anyway fools…I mean folks, this miracle toilet is avalible ONLY IN CANADA! If we tried to sell it down in the United States, we’d be shot. So don’t YOU all want one?
[Everybody in America nods their heads very eagerly.]
Ravil: Then come on up to Canada and buy them now, for this incredibly low cost! This is a limited time offer, so what are you waiting for? Get in your cars, trains, and planes and come up here to get your very own 3.5-gallon toilet! In case you don’t know where Canada is, just head due north from anywhere in the United States. Hmmm….except Alaska. That might cause some problems. Anyway, don’t delay! Come today! (Pauses) All right, cut! That’s a wrap! Now we just wait for the idiots to come filing up here to…
[The transmission returns to the regularly scheduled program, except that now nobody is watching. Everybody in America has piled into their cars and is heading towards Canada at breakneck speed.]
[Scene: Back at the Toilet Manufacturing Plant. Toilet sales have already skyrocketed, as the people from Detroit, right across the river from Windsor, have already queued up to purchase their new toilets. Casualties amongst custom officers on both sides have been high. The factory is under heavy guard by Canuckalisks, who are taking great pleasure in stepping on the occasional customer. But even this does not daunt the American toilet-buyers, who are desperate by this point. Mass exodus’ north have already been reported in every major city, just before the news crews followed the crowds. Ravil, Cydric, and Turtle are up in the observation room, watching as their master plan unfolds. Well…as Ravil’s master plan unfolds.]
Turtle: (Finally) Sire, I don’t understand. What does this entire toilet business have to do with our conquest of the United States?
Ravil: (Sighs) And I always thought you were so bright, Turtle. Don’t you see? Not only will the American economy be in complete ruins, but everybody in the entire nation will be up HERE, buying toilets! That means that there will be nobody left to defend the United States! We can march in at our leisure, dissolve the government, and declare martial law across the country before three o’clock! It’s beautiful!
Turtle: But sire…if EVERYBODY in the United States is up here buying toilets, doesn’t that mean that their government officials will be up here as well?
Ravil: Do you really believe that the U.S. Government would be foolish enough to follow their own laws and install 1.6-gallon-per-flush toilets in the White House? What kind of idiots do you think they have running that country?
Turtle: Sorry sir. Wasn’t thinking.
Cydric: So we’re going to actually invade Washington?
Ravil: (Rolls his eyes) Yes Cydric, we are.
Cydric: (Suspiciously) And which map are we going to use this time?
Ravil: (Growls) Shut up, Cydric. I already have a proper map this time. I got it from Fron. If he gave me the wrong one, I’ll cut his tongue off.
Cydric: (Satisfied) A wise move, sire.
Ravil: (Peers out the window) Well, my minions, I believe that our moment of triumph is fast approaching. Let’s get ready to launch our invasion of America. And THIS time, we’ll do it right. The Overmind will HAVE to see that we’re worthy of rejoining the Swarm after this.
Turtle: Yeah…we beat ‘em through a superior use of latrines.
[Ravil throws a dirty look at his Zergling General, and then proceeds to slither away to make final preperations for the invasion.]
[Scene: One hour later. Ravil has gathered all of the Canuckalisks that aren’t guarding the entrance to the factory. They now stand outside of Windsor, on the threshold of victory over the United States.]
Ravil: Fellow Zerg Canadians, the hour of our greatest triumph is at hand! Shortly we shall sweep down into the United States, wrecking havoc wherever we go. I’ve made a few changes to my original plan. Instead of JUST invading Washington and mutilating the government, we shall ALSO attack New York, their largest population center on the East Coast. This will make sure that we strike an irreperable blow against them, and pave the way for our ultimate occupation. Cydric and myself shall lead the assault on Washington, while General Turtle takes the fight to New York. Understood?
[The Canuckalisks let out a bellow of approval that can be heard all the way from Venezuela, though they’re not quite sure what exactly they’re approving of.]
Ravil: Then may the Overmind watch over us! ONWARDS TO VICTORY!
[The Canuckalisks make nose-dives into the ground, burrowing at an untold pace. Ravil, Cydric, and Turtle exchange salutes.]
Ravil: Good luck, General.
Turtle: Same to you, sire.
[They each grab ahold of a Canuckalisk, which provides them with easy transportation to their respective destinations.]