*sighs*

Oh dear. Oh my. Still delusional I see, Mr. Mufti. For the umpty umpth time, I wish to point out that, at the moment of my so-called betrayal, one towel draped personage of self-proclaimed leaderhood had fled his own people, left them to the fates in the path of the advancing Mustantopian forces.

At that so called moment of betrayal, yours truly was left holding the bag, proverbially, and discovering that hope for a No. Staffordshire post-war recovery had been bankrupted by the looting of the treasuries by the Grand Mullah before he'd left. Leaving behind what he could not transfer electronically, namely:

1) Immense cache of various wines and spirits (several thousands of bottles). Yes. You heard it here folks. A-L-C-O-H-O-L! The Mullah imbibed ... copiously, no less. But of the most ordinary sugary sweetened kind: Colt 45 Malt Liquor, Night Train, various "sparkling" wines with screw on caps.

2) Gold bullion and copper ingots but not all that much considering the negative figures in the national treasury accounts. And why copper, lord knows. It could be that the Sultan of Sweat was attempting to corner the copper market but the quantity found, less than one metric ton of it, was far from significant in terms of metal trading.

3) Various *ahem* graphical images of a certain graphical nature which I believe I am ill advised to describe here.

4) Funny looking black vinyl discs with grooves on them. Varying diameters with the smaller diameter ones having larger holes in the middle than the larger diameter ones. Approx weight about 4 metric tons.

5) An entire warehouse full of racks draped with black velvet cloth onto which were variously embroidered or dyed in colors that were photolumiscently reactive to black light. The images on those cloths were, uniformly, of some guy in a rather glittery costume with a greyish whitish pompadour hair style, playing a piano that was even more glittery than the costume. Archivist advised that the images were of some person named Liberace.

The list goes on. We tried to recapture as much of the national wealth as we could but most of these items, except for the gold and copper were of no discernible value in the real world market place. Well, truth be told, we actually also made some money selling off those *ahem* graphical images as well.


Edited by - Indy11 on 8/6/2006 6:08:35 PM

typical western propaganda from the Captain of Capitalism, we should really expect nothing else but a glossing-over of the facts in order to present him in the best possible light as a hard-working an innocent victim forced by events to shoulder a weighty burden. However this should correct matters (from my official biography recently aired on Al-Tawazeera TV)

1. We, well, me really, with loyal assistance from Locutov, were winning the Utopian War. Mustantopian forces were in general retreat as their addled leader became more addled than normal (can't think why...)

2. Unbeknownst to me, a viper lay curled in my bosom; the traitor Indy carefully chose his moment to strike me down with hynotic imagery and psychological warfare, leaving me prostrate and the People's Republic leaderless. In the ensuing chaos he eagerly assumed command and declared an armistice, and in a clear demonstration of where his true loyalties lay, invited our very enemies, the loathsome Mustantopians, to support him in his treasonous putsch .

2. Fortunately I was able to make my escape via donkey to the fraternal island of Cuba, where my health was restored by kindly dusky-skinned maidens with silken thighs. However, this was small recompense as I learnt via cat's whisker radio of the misery and oppression the Dook of New Dworkia, as he now styled himself, was meting out on my people with his Mustantopian allies, even so far as to inflict rabbit-chimaeras upon them! (I'd kept them safely locked up in underground hutches, best place for them) Of course I expected the People's Treasury to be looted, and for some reason I never felt entirely safe with indy knowing iwhatit conatined, so *certain* contents had previously been removed, just in case. The losses that were incurred were serious enough though..

4. That alcohol was an investment, I never opened a single bottle! There was an entire case of 1963 Babycham, and that Colt 45 had been on special offer at Asda in 1977! Wasted.... and those 45s were Tony Christie and Matt Munro originals and I still want them back! }

5. Funny I thought those graphical images got mysteriously copied and pinned around the Dook Den in Darkest Noo Dworkia? Anyway I didn't think East German female weightlifters were your thing?

6. Liberace was a great performer and a hell of a nice guy and I won't hear one word said against them.

7. That wasn't copper ingots you numty, that was the new pipes for the central heating! We'd been saving for years for that; and thanks by the way for allowing your Mustantopian allies to hit that so-called "nuclear" installation with air-strikes - that was the new boiler.

Anyhoo, not long after my escape I was able to return to Tawakalnistan and rescue the people from their misery, and I was welcomed with open arms. They'd been fighting an heroic but thankfully brief resistance campaign, which ended with the not-unexpected flight of the Dook back to his steel tower in Noo Dworkia, albeit with much ill-gotten gains wot don't belong to him - his end was inevitable once the Mustantopian forces that he reiled on to maintain his illegal regime left when the pubs opened. Impoverished as it was, Tawakalnistan nevertheless embraced its situation with piety and aplomb, virtues which continue to this day to place it in the forefront of the worldwide resistance to imperialism, capitalism, and various other -isms that I can't think of right now, but I will later.

(roriginall transmitted as part of the annual Eid message to the People of Tawakalnistan)

Winning?

1) The only difference between the decadent and debauched rule of the Mustantopian emperor and yourself is that he was honestly decadent and debauched. You had to hide yourself behind fabric and other tissues of dissemblement to project a puritannical outside while your insides were a black and slimey goo of iniquity and falsehoods!

Winning, indeed. Your "brave" general Locutus was isolated away from the defense of the homeland due to your manic impressions of self-proclaimed grandeur and military brilliance. The best of your own forces were sent off on a near suicide mission while your home front was left completely unguarded. And into that vulnerable and soft underbelly which was your military incompetence, the Mustantopian armored divisions rolled into town, squashing all who would stand in its way.

Winning! Pah! The best one could say was that you were whining!

2) Said "viper" in your midst was not, at the time, in your midst. Oh. I was there alright. I was in the capital city and in the Mullahtagawny Palace, looking for you only to find that you'd left. And you'd had the cheeky gall to leave a little note written on a tropical island post-card addressed to the general public: "Gone Fishing... Cheery-bye! Keep up the good work...."

3) Donkey? Fraternal island of Cuba? Try private helicopter to private jet waiting at an aiport in a neutral country and thence to Grand Cayman Island and secret bank accounts. You didn't set foot in "fraternal" Cuba as even Fidel could smell you a thousand miles away. Your attempted bribe was refused because of the strings you'd attached to it: Safe haven for yourself, your harem of 5,000 enslaved women AND your personal body guard of some 1,000 armed men. As it stands, you had to shuck most of your entourage at the neutral country airport. Not enough room .... and which neutral country, by the way, wants to know where to forward the bills for housing those 1,000 men and some 4,975 enslaved women all these many years.

4) Sorry, can't buy that investment in acohol story. Not after we found all those "empties" lying around, and with a good number of seemingly "untouched" bottles with broken seals.

6) If those were East German female weight lifters, they were contortionist weight lifters. And, erm, not all of them were, erm, "female." We were able to sell them off to someone named I. Piotre Sejczhileweski. Ironically, with a delivery address on Grand Cayman island. Know him by any chance? A neighbor perhaps?

7) So the labels on the piles of copper said. Oddly, for being pipes, they were not shaped like tubes. More like bricks. Then again, not being native to your country, I suppose I don't fully comprehend No. Staffordshire technology. I take it that one lumps the copper into a fire to heat it up and then stick them in asbestos sacks and hang them in rooms for heating?

Your return to the place you bankrupted was staged to look like the return of the savior hero but we all know that the only reason why the country got back on its feet is because you repatriated your ill-gotten booty to No. Staffordshire and invested in all of the so-called "State Owned" monopolies that are, in fact, your private holdings, Mr. Mullah.

Call me the evil wicked blood sucking capitalist vampire, do you? In relative comparison to your fascist megalomaniacal regime which by any other name would be a fascist megalomaniacal regime I am a mere kitten in the woods!

<Edit>

And for the sake of good order, Liberace was many things and some of them very skilled and capable but those black velvet glow in the dark "art" pieces only fetched $0.01 by the linear yard. So, do the math in so far as it may equate to your "esteemed" artisitic tastes.


<Edit>
Edited again for typos.



Edited by - Indy11 on 8/7/2006 9:52:10 AM

you're just jealous because you've never had any followers and everyone loves me. Don't think i couldn't see you seething whilst I was on the podium waving my brave soldiers off to the front to get slaugh erm defend the Motherland. They all said to me "watch that Indy feller, he wants your job..." but oh no "leave him be" I said "he'll get over it, he'll turn out alright..."

<sniff> I rather wish I'd left you trapped on that traffic island I found you marooned on. If it wasn't for me you'd still be there, getting scared by the big brum-brums...

*shakes head*

Oh that's right. I secretly coveted your "success" and your "charismatic ways."

How silly of me to forget.

I'll happily chug along in my own little fiefdom, thank you very much. Noo Dworkia isn't all that much but at least we have electricity, running water (both hot and cold) and vegetation ... even if only contained in parks. Our parks are quite nice. And we are a tourist draw.

I can always spot the Tawakalni visitor... he's the one with the tea towel covering his head and face and gawking upwards at the tall buildings, failing to watch where he is going and bumping into everyone else on the street.

Edited by - Indy11 on 8/7/2006 9:00:49 PM

I wasn't looking up at the buildings, I was watching out for the bits that fall off and come crashing down! I nearly got splatted, and that would have been your fault...

*Wipes eyes* Ah, those posts take me back to the glory days!

Taw - Lies, all lies! The supporters of the Rabbit-God are showered with gifts, especially now that the economy is doing so well! True, we are still burdened with obsolete PCs, but when Directx10 graphics cards and Vista come... Substantial investments will be made! Besides, the Rabbit-God offers joy and serenity. Just ask all of the people who mailed $2 to the Rabbit-God's Collection Centre for Sick Rabbits. They are happier now than they have ever been!

Indy - If I remember correctly, wasn't the weak-minded Mullah of Tawakalnistan brainwashed an co-opted by the puppet forces of "Aunty"? *Shakes head* The Rabbit-God would never be party to such shenanigans!

---

shenanigans

---

Shoore, I would nearly convert to Rabbit Worship just because you used the word shenanigans. Just nearly though.

ignore the ersatz shenanigans of the Wascally Wabbit, I'll give you a free shillelagh, a bottle of Jamesons Black Label (because it's not much use here in Islamic Tawakalnistan, is it?) and a hijab decorated with shamrocks for Mrs Druid. How's that for a deal, from yer man the Grand Mullah?

(I knew those holidays in Dublin would come in useful! )

Edited by - Tawakalna Qubt-ut Allah on 8/9/2006 3:26:37 PM

Indeed your sources of information are at fault for I have just recieved an ATX motherboard with an AMD Athlon(TM) 64 X2 Dual Core proccesor from The Rabbit God himself (he even signed it!). I am now happily obliterating the walls made of out of sand that you call your "borderline defense" in my tactical virtual simulations at twice the speed!

Edited by - Jagged on 8/9/2006 2:30:29 PM

@Taw: Shoore ya shudda let me know you were coming to Dublin, you could have helped me cross the road, an old Tawaklanastinian Tourist Trick I believe. Of course when I can't cross the strees in my own town it is usually quite late of an eve and outside influences have had a hand in the porcedings.

As for your kind offer of prescious nectar I must reject as any payment for my assistance in the destruction of the flopsey ones would take from the purely humanitarian and soul filling aspect of the act...and I'll drink to that.

@J: Meh!

*Nods to Jag* See? Many are the boons that are presented by the economically-stable land of Esquilaxitavia!

Taw - Bribery will not buy loyalty. I would never try anything so shady. *Nods to Jag again*

ID - You'd drink to anything. To that end... shenanigans! Oh, and potatoes!

---

ID - You'd drink to anything. To that end... shenanigans! Oh, and potatoes!

---

Heres to that, Slainte! *Tips glass to Esqui*

I am glad that you said I would drink to anything and not just that I would drink anything. We do have our lavish capitalist standards to keep you know, after all Mr and Mrs Jones have to be bettered.

*adopts smug tone of voice*

And where was flopsy mopsy horsey tail anyway when all the olde worlde was akilter and the great Mustantopian Empire almost attained total global domination? Hmmmmmmm?

I'll tell you where ... the lapinary lurker had hunkered his equine carcass down below ground. To whose aid did he come? Hmmmmm? To whose appeal for aid and sustenance did he respond? Eh?

But .. in all honesty, it didn't matter. That which became Tawakalanasisboombahstan was bankrupted ... no longer fertile ground for a viable economy and the Mustantopians were, in a word, too jaded to care.

So we struck out on our own and founded our own little fiefdom ... founded on notions of consensus mercantilism and, well the rest is history.