Dogs of Orninica

by Unedo, Daniel

  We can be almost completely open about our objectives, and thanks to the slavish media, no one even questions it. The prison-military industrial complex is never even questioned by the dazed little boors. It's so very freeing. Well done, sir, well done. You set an example for all of us aspiring tycoons to follow.

  We're so incredibly fortunate to live in this marvelous time when we are unhindered by petty obstructions to our intricate machinations. The anti-whistle-blowing laws we engineered five years ago today have given us the unprecedented ability to affect change on a global scale, to ameliorate society forever. I feel that we should commemorate this great day somehow, maybe with a little get together at the Arcanum Society tonight? I'll bring the goat.

  Or perhaps you could consider entertaining my wife and I on the island? I would really jump at the opportunity to spend some quality time with you Mr. Fifi, and I know it would make my dear wife so very happy to finally get to visit that incredible island you spend so much of your time on. We would be so positively enthused to receive an invitation at long last. It would mean so much to us if our two families could come together like that. And there are so many ideas I have bouncing about in the old noggin that I'd love to share with you in a more relaxed setting.

  No pressure is intended of course, sir. I know how important your family's privacy is to you. The prerogative is entirely yours, after all, I am but a lowly servant. Nevertheless, I would be utterly discreet and courteous if you decided to invite me this year, it is well known in my social circle that I am an ideal house guest with impeccable manners. I would certainly never intrude on areas of the island that are out of bounds to guests. I would be extremely cautious not to pry into your personal, intimate or spiritual affairs, unless it was requested I participate, of course.

  You've never formally met my wife, but you should know that she's very accommodating in... Shall we say, interpersonal matters? Indeed, her physical boundaries can be stretched quite far. She certainly would have no qualms about us instructing younger members of society in the carnal pleasures.

  What I mean to say is, much, much younger members of society. Perhaps as young as the comely boys that are said to grace your wonderful island?

  As always, I live to serve you and your majestic family, Mr. Fifi. I would be nothing without you, absolutely nothing at all. An invisible little withering worm of a dog, hardly even worth stepping on, certainly not for someone with your busy globe-trotting schedule.

  You have given me everything, sir. Without your outstanding generosity, I would be absolutely lost. I am your ever-faithful servant today and forever. I am humbled before your presence. I bask in the divine glow that envelopes your majestic body at all times. I am but a tiny, small, little, insignificant dog when sat next to you.

  I will truly cherish any time you choose to spend with me, on your island or wherever you wish.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Soldier

  Fuck, war is boring. When I signed up, I thought it would be like the videogames, blowing the enemy up, collapsing buildings, slicing throats, chasing dirty terrorists through the slums; real G.I. hero stuff. But instead we barely ever leave camp. We just hang out and play videogames most of the day, games set in the old wars where you could actually get shit done. This dumb Nureongi war is basically fought 99% by drones and tank-bots. And then the damn private corporate armies they have barking orders at us get the remaining 1% of the action.

  If I'm lucky, and we round up some peasants that come to the camp to surrender, the CO lets me frisk the ladies. They all run around naked you know, all their fur is showing all the time. I take my sweet time searching them tribal lovelies. Put my hands all over their soft shiny fur. Sometimes they bitch a bit when I'm too rough with the frisking, but I just yell at them in their gibberish until they shut up. I can do a good impression of their dumb ass language. Opi opi bark bark rir! Makes the boys in my regiment laugh every time. Fucking savages.

  I wouldn't mind bringing a couple of them home with me though, no question. They're all built like tight little swimsuit models, every one of them. Big fucking sets of boobies too. I don't know how they got to be so damn fine out here in the trees, but I like it, no doubt, no doubt. None of them shave, though, they're furry as fuck. Guess they didn't invent razors over here. But it's sort of of hot, I guess, in a weird way. Wouldn't mind giving their fur a good licking over.

  Damn, what I would do to one of those hot little furry tribe chicks if I had her in a dark room alone... Fuck me, that would be some intense love making. I wish the CO would assign me to guard the prisoners for a bit. I keep putting in for guard duty, but he's always got his dorky nephews doing it at night. So unfair. Maybe he'll get promoted or something and take his nephews with him so we can actually have some fun here for once.

  We've got monitors set up all over the mess hall so we can watch the drones blowing the fuck out of their smelly little villages. We always place bets on how many hits each drone can get. It's always really funny when the silly peasants try to throw rocks at the drone, and the drone turns around and fills their heads with bullet holes. They're so fucking retarded. Sometimes they'll run around in circles for a moment with their heads blown off, it's pretty sick.

  There's this game we play in the dining hall when the CO isn't around, where we drink a shot of Milo's famous moonshine every time a drone catches up to one of the terrorists and fills him with lead. If the drone uses a missile, we have to take three shots. It's pretty intense. One of the guys passed out from it, couldn't hold his liquor. We kicked him a bit while he was out for being such a giant fucking pussy. It's all in good fun, though, he was fine. Just a bit bruised.

  There was this one terrorist that thought he could get away from the drones if he climbed this huge tree, it was hilarious. He's hugging the tree, holding his breath, and like twenty drones form a circle around him and he's all like “rirr rirr upir rirrr!” When the dust cleared, the whole fucking tree was gone. Just like a few leaves and patches of fur left on the ground. Man, drones get all the fun.

  We should like, go on strike or something, until they let us in on the action for real. They could at least let us ride on the drones or something so we can get a better view of the battle. What's the point of being a bah-damn soldier if you don't get to kill anything? I mean, sure, the army is going to pay for my college when I get back home, but I'm gonna be stuck here for like four more years, so the least they could do is let me cause some fucking old fashioned balls-to-the-wall mayhem while I'm here.

  There's a firing squad set for tomorrow to put this nasty prisoner out of his misery. He wounded a guard trying to escape, left a pretty big bite mark on the guy's neck, he almost bled out. I wish I was there when they caught up with him, the boys really messed him up good. Poked out one of his eyes, even. I asked the CO to put me on the firing squad so I can at least get to fire my gun at a live target for once, but I bet the old prig will cut me out of the action again. He really is out to get me. He's one of them well-bred uppity bitches, has no love for me and my kind, you can always find him surrounded by rich ass-suckers like his perfect little nephews, all the way on the other side of camp.

  Damn I hate those little rich turds. They're always talking about their daddy's precious restaurants and hotels and how their servants back home didn't make the mash all lumpy the way the cook makes it. They don't have a regular old tent like the rest of us, they get this bullet-proof dome thing that got airlifted in. Let me tell you, not one of the boys would be too teared up if the terrorists got to those two. Bah-damn Fidelbrooks. They even stopped coming to the mess hall a while back because they didn't like the food and now their meals get flown in everyday and delivered to their dome. Sometimes they make me do the delivery. If they didn't have to go in to guard the female cell block every night, they'd never leave their dome. It's so fucked up.

  Anyway, they're transferring all our prisoners tomorrow to the new work camps they just finished building on the coast, so I don't know what
use the suck-ass twins will be then. Maybe they'll make them do some real work like scrubbing the latrines clean. I always get stuck with that fucking job because I mouth off to the CO when he doesn't let me do anything cool.

  If we ever get to see some real action and I'm on the same unit as the rich boys, let's just say they're going to come out of the battle weighing a hell of a lot less than when they came in. No way am I backing those little fuckers up, I only look out for my own. Believe it.

  Let's face facts, though. They'll never see any action. The moment things get even a little bit hairy, all those rich assholes will get airlifted right out of here and back home to their daddies. Probably get a four-course meal on the ride back, too. It's too bad, I'd like to see the little fuckers hit in the back of the head with some good old friendly fire when no one's looking. That would really be a good time.

  Sure, blowing Nureongi scum to hell would be pretty fun I guess, but it'd be sort of like shooting dopey fish in a barrel. The real rush would come from going one on one against a proper soldier with all the advanced gear and weaponry and training I've got. Then we'd see what kind of powerful skill this bad-ass Pitbull's got. I'm the ultimate fucking warrior, baby. I wanna hunt me some rich little piggies. I'd be all, head-shot, roll, rifle in the face, stab, stab, stab, turn and slice. I'd put their chubby little ears on a chain and wear it around my neck. Hell yeah, baby.

  I didn't come to this shit hole to sit on my ass all day playing videogames and eating crackers, I can do that shit at home. I want to do some fucking murdering. You can't keep this deadly weapon locked up in a case all day and night, I need to be out there slicing and dicing, bah-damn it. That fucking CO can't keep me down much longer, one day I'm gonna fucking snap and unleash my silent fury on him. Just slip into his tent one night and knife him up good until he can't deny me my victory any more. Damn that would be sweet.

  Then I'd pull his little Nureongi slave girl into my tent and make her my bitch. She's never been possessed by a real dog before, just a bunch of ethnics and a stuck up old fop. She'd have the time of her life, guaranteed. Would make her scream so loud that everyone in camp would know I was on top of her. Little slut wouldn't be able to walk straight for weeks, and every fucking step she'd take would remind her of the sheer fucking pleasure I gave her. She'd be grinning ear to ear, no doubt about it. Man she's a hot piece of ass. Of course, that dirty tail that follows her ass around everywhere would have to come right off if she's going to be mine.

  One of the private army guys let me see how many tails he's collected so far from his kills, he keeps them in this big fucking trunk that he drags around with him. It was so full that he couldn't get it closed again after he opened it. That guy's such a fucking show off. But none of the other corporate army guys will even talk to us unless they're giving us dumb-ass orders to make their beds and bring them food and shit. I asked him if I could keep one of the tails since they wouldn't all fit in the trunk, but he got all pissy and made me leave his tent. Threw a bottle at the back of my head too when I was leaving, the fucker. I'm gonna get that guy one day.

  You know, it's taking a really long time for my dream-inducer to kick in tonight, just can't seem to fall asleep. I guess I took a few too many naps through the day. Maybe I should go get some knock-out pills from the medic. Laters.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Journalist II

  Breaking news. The nation mourns as tens of thousands of luxury Braniso cars around the world have mysteriously exploded, killing thousands of our most prominent citizens. The President and First Lady are dead. The Vice President is dead. The Secretary of State is dead. The Royal Fifis are dead. Almost the entire illustrious Rupulfort family are dead. Oil baron Georgie Balase and his sons are dead. Banker Maurice Fitz and several members of his family are dead. As the list of dead continues to grow, we'll continue to post updates. This is truly the most solemn and tragic day in the history of our proud and strong nation.

  Among the many celebrities that died today, Harvey Fidelbrook will perhaps be remembered most. In a last performance of sorts, crowds of witnesses say the great thespian stumbled from the charred remains of his exclusive one-of-a-kind monogrammed crystal-skinned Braniso XL-ENS SUV in the heart of the city. His body burned almost beyond recognition, he fell to his knees and with his last remaining breath, held out his disfigured hands and recited a monologue from his renowned one-man-play 'The Final Redemption of Harvey Fidelbrook':

  “I am but a shadow of myself. A well-worn facsimile of everything I used to be. I am a dog of supreme conscience, and a dog of outrageous depravity. I am consumed with both fervent conceitedness and dispiriting self-loathing. I am what I am and this is all I can ever be. I am greatness. I am nothingness. I am Harvey Fidelbrook.”

  The standers-by erupted in thunderous applause as our greatest actor met his untimely end. He will be mourned by millions.

  The Braniso corporation have yet to release a statement regarding the nature of this catastrophe, but right now it is believed the accidents are linked to the coolant the luxury vehicles use as part of their air-conditioning systems.

  The government has also not released a statement, and right now it's not at all certain what remains of the late President's administration, or even the opposition. It appears that most, if not all of our leaders in the upper echelons of Orninican society have died in this dreadful catastrophe.

  The nation waits with baited breath to find out where we will go from here.

  Yesterday, several high-ranking politicians had suggested that, since we now have strong evidence that humans so enjoyed to eat Nureongi meat, it makes sense that we should also be eating it. They had proposed that we stop treating Nureongi like equals; building them cities to live in and giving them jobs, and instead follow the humans wisdom and herd them all into farms to be processed into nutritious soup that could be fed to the troops, and also shipped back to Orninica for sale on the open market.

  The Grand Bishop of Bahman released a statement yesterday, positing that, since the humans are known to have enjoyed this soup dish which we now know was made from Nureongi meat, it is very telling that Soupman is named for this same delicacy. The Grand Bishop is now asserting that Soupman wasn't a man at all, but the ape equivalent of a Nureongi. “Most likely”, he postulated, “Bahman bred and slaughtered the red-caped animal and made a soup from it for the rest of the prophets to dine on”.

  This has led to fervent protests from the First Vicar of Soupman, who yesterday claimed that the Grand Bishop is attempting to turn Bahmanites into cannibals that will feel justified in slaughtering and eating any dog faithful to Soupman. The Grand Bishop vehemently denied these allegations.

  In cheerier news, the beloved teen-pop idols Maddy and Mel just completed their stint in rehab. The brother and sister singing duo checked into the exclusive Shady Elm Rehabilitation Center last week to recover from an addiction to painkillers. Their publicist announced this morning that the siblings are doing exceedingly well on their way to recovery.

  A small update just came in, it now appears that Maddy and Mel have been added to the long list of Braniso victims, as the limousine that was taking them home from rehab has also tragically been added to the list of exploded vehicles. We will commiserate the loss of the spirited young stars and other lost celebrities with a special 'Farewell to the Treasures of a Nation' issue tomorrow.

  The police are asking the public to please remember to not feed the homeless. There have been a lot of reported instances lately of groups setting up tables on streets in homeless hot spots and handing out free sandwiches and hot drinks. This is a clear violation of several health and safety regulations, and the criminal groups committing these irresponsible acts will continue to be arrested and prosecuted.

  Even if we didn't have the all-important food safety laws on the books, can't these stubborn religious groups see that by feeding the homeless, they encourage them to stay put in an area, forcing real estate values to plummet? I don't care what S
oupman said about feeding the hungry, you do not want to wake up tomorrow and find out that your property is suddenly worth 15% less because of a nearby homeless infestation. It's really not fun. Stop feeding the homeless, church ladies. How would you like it if I set up a needle exchange outside your houses?

  We should really join Orninica's more progressive cities in outlawing homelessness altogether. In those cities, the homeless are forcibly round up and sent to a distant shelter where they can no longer rain down economic turmoil on the rest of us, and if they try to leave the shelter, they're sent straight to jail, no excuses.

  The homeless problem we're facing needs to be seriously addressed if the economy is ever to return to its former glory. Anyone that looks homeless should be removed from sight so that businesses can be allowed the freedom to make a decent profit once again. The only way our state's proud entrepreneurs can return to profitability is if we deal with the unsightly hordes littering the high streets. The homeless are strangling our economic prosperity and it must stop now.

  Went a little off track there, but really, can you blame me? If I tried to sell my house right now, I'd lose a fortune. It's just not right. They need to be sensible.

  The city's Metropolitan Rail Authority yesterday wanted to thank all passengers that have traveled on the subway some time in the past two weeks for participating in the annual terrorist response drills. Harmless invisible and odorless gases were released into the subway stations at regular intervals by trained officers. The drills were conducted as a joint collaboration between the Rail Authority, the Fifi Corporation's Chemical Weapons Laboratory, the Police Department and the Department of Defense. A representative said “This year's drills were an overwhelming success, and we were able to collect much valuable data to assist us in our efforts to fight terrorism and keep the public safe from attack.”