Peace in our time

Anonymous said...
From the RadioNZ website:
Wanganui District mayor Michael Laws says New Zealand needs some national decision making on rural roading before some back country roads are abandoned by councils.
HE DOES NOT INTEND TO CLOSE ANY RURAL ROADS AT PRESENT.
Where does this power crazed idiot get off?
5:06 PM, January 18, 2007

---

Wanganui Mayor Michael Laws, speaking today from the mountain top retreat, the Lawsgaden, where he spends the weekends with longtime companion 'Leo' Braun and ObergruppenMayor 'Dotty' Himmler, has reassured his subjects that, at this time, he has no plans to annexe rural roads.

"Of course, the expansion of the LawsReich is paramount," he said, while lighting a cigarette in a long holder and stroking the head of a slavering, snarling Rottweiler. "But at this point we have negotiated a truce with those schweinhunds in Raetihi and other places whose names it sickens me to utter".

Twirling his moustache - which oddly seemed to have been waxed at the tips - the would-be Ruler of All He Surveys spread out a map atop what first appeared to be an intricately carved coffee table.

"Mein Gott!" he suddenly expostulated, kicking out viciously at the table with his highly polished jackboot. "Keep a straight back, Rangi! How many times must I tell you?!"

"Sorry, Mein Fuhrer," replied Cr Wills (for it was he), "but my knees are getting sore. I've been crawling all week." Ignoring the pleas of his underling, the Father of the Fatherland seemed to take particular delight in sticking a pin in the map, eliciting a muted shriek from beneath it.

"Here," he said, pointing to Wanganui, "is to be the centre of the LawsReich. But there are white skinned, blue eyed people living in these filthy, decadent little towns all around. It is their destiny to be part of the Reich. Of course we hope that their councils will see the historical inevitability of this and simply surrender. Or that the League of Nations... sorry, Representation Commission... will simply cede the entire area to me.

"But if we have to annexe them by closing their roads then we shall do so. Those who meet the genetic standards of the Reich will be welcomed with open arms. Dr "Phillippa" Mengele will be on hand to test their physical fitness. Those who fail because they are found wanting - say, through an unfortunate skin pigmentation - will be... ummm... what is the word, Dotty?"

"Relocated, Mein Fuhrer!" responded Dotty, attempting to click her heels together and salute at the same time, and thus poking herself in the eye and falling over. "You know, on the trains, to the big holiday camps, like on the secret plans in the..." The rest of her exposition was muffled as the Rottweiler, which seemed to have accidentally slipped it's Master's leash, began trying to swallow her head.

"Yes... re-lo-cated," said the Mayor, for some reason sounding out every syllable. From somewhere just inside the castle doors, three ominous, resonate notes sounded.

"Sorry, boss, sat on the piano accordion again," said Field Marshall "Hermann" Warburton, stumbling onto the balcony. "Ahhh Warburton," said the Mayor, ignoring the fact that Warburton appeared to have tripped over a dog which had choked on an unusually large and misshapen head, "how goes it at headquarters?"

"Well, Mein Fuhrer," said Warburton, collapsing into a chair and putting his feet up on a nearby Ottoman, which turned out to be Cr Hughes, who'd curled up in the sun and gone to sleep as usual. "Sorry Muzza," said Warburton. "Oh, don't mind me," replied Hughes cheerfully, "I'm used to being walked all over, aren't I Fuhrer?"

"The headquarters?" snapped Laws, becoming ever more impatient with the incompetents with whom he'd chosen to surround himself. "Blind obedience comes at a price", he thought to himself ruefully.

"Ah yes, well..." replied Warburton, wondering how to tell his boss that they hadn't been able to cover up the fact that "Sue" Quisling had finally deserted to Wellington. Deciding that he'd better get the bad news out of the way first (especially since there was no good news) he outlined the latest strategic failure.

"Unfortunately, sir, that 'Mayoral survey' of 'central city violence' that we'd planned to use as an excuse to introduce more brownshirts..." Catching the Fuhrer's look, he quickly corrected himself. "Sorry, Mein Fuhrer, 'citizens patrols'... well it didn't quite turn out as we planned."

"Gott in Himmel!" screamed the Mayor, smashing a riding crop which he always kept handy for such occasions down on the table, provoking it to say "Thank you teacher" before blushing profusely.

"It seems the good burghers of Wanganui aren't quite as stupid as we'd assumed," said Field Marshall Warburton. "They said there wasn't any violence."

"Oh they did, did they?" asked the Mayor, rhetorically. "Eva, hand me that empty wine bottle!" he snapped, ducking expertly as it came flying across the room. "Ach! It isn't a fax machine you know," he joked, his wry smile not quite hiding the dark look that crossed his features. Rangi would suffer that night, after the sun set and the servants were asleep.

"Higgie!" he snapped at a soldier who seemed to have her hat on backwards, and had got round this problem by drilling two eye-holes in it rather than turning it round. "I have a job for you. You have proven your worth as the greatest suck-up on my staff. Take this bottle and this hose, go down to my car and fill it with gasoline."

"Yes Mein Fuhrer!" said Higgie, beaming with glee. "Shall I also soak my clothing and strike a match to prove my unthinking dedication to the Reich, Mein Fuhrer?!"

"Some other time, perhaps," Laws replied, pausing a moment or two to savour the mental picture. "When it's full, get me Oberlieutenant Morgs on the phone. Tell him I have some real work experience for him and his Laws Youth".

Comments on this post are now closed.