El Supremo Goes to War - Part 2
With a unilateral declaration of war versus the entire known neighbourhood taken care off – I need a secretary, all this paperwork is a drag – I head down to see Crazy Charlie, the librarian at the Greenbeatle library.
“So I’ve started a war,” says I, “and I’m looking for some advice. What’s hot?”
Crazy Charlie scratches his head and gives the matter serious thought. He might be a direct descendant of feral chicken head biting-off Voodoo stock but he knows his books.
“Give this one a go,” says Charlie, handing me some Chinese crap on War Art. Heaving it over my shoulder I impatiently explain to Charlie that I haven’t ever stepped into an art gallery, never intend to and what in the name of a limp banana does an Asian art nut know about winning wars? You’ve got to stop drinking so much of that rancid jungle juice I tell him. It’s frying your brain cells.
Unabashed, Charlie hands me another book telling me that it’s probably more my style, ‘Advanced Readings in Banana Economics’.
My eyes glaze over. Advanced Banana Economics. Jesus wept. Reluctantly I take it and head back out into the sunshine. Sadly, Charlies’ mind has lost its battle with the bug juice.
Back at the Palace, just for the heck of it, I flip open a page. Chapter 3 “How to make big bucks in bananas”. Well that might be interesting. It’s always good to crank up the economy. I read on.
Create a monopoly. Be the only banana seller on the street corner. Charge whatever you want. Need to control all the fertile land. Need to control all the markets. Wipe out the competition.
Yep, nothing there I don’t already know. I give it one more shot.
Chapter 4 How to swing the market to your way of thinking– Step One: Machinegun everybody who disagrees with you.
Allrighty… now that’s what we’re talking about. I settle down for a prolonged read.
Advanced Banana Economics informs me that I need a war cabinet of competent, highly qualified advisers in order to achieve a monopoly by force (is there any other way? Not in the Big book of Bananas there isn’t).
Right. I reach for the nearest Trade Directory and look up Personnel Agencies specialising in the military. Firing up the ham radio rig I establish communications with the International Recruitment Agency.
I tell them I’m the Commander in Chief of an important world nation and I currently have immediate vacancies for the head of our army, navy and airforce.
“Ah, Mr Joseph from Moscow. We have been expecting your call, Sir. Five star generals… the same as last time?”
Huh? Wherever the hell Moscow is they don’t eat bananas, I can tell you that. Probably a bunch of apple heads from way down south.
“No, no”, says I, “this is El Supremo from the Agnostic Party.”
Their prolonged silence is spooky.
“Grasshopper Island”, I add, to provide clarity to an obviously confused and stunned radiophonic audience. Probably the first time they have spoken directly to a genuine Commander in Chief.
Ahhh, the little people, always falling at my feet. What can I do about it but assume the burden that the creator has placed upon my broad shoulders?
“Grasshopper Island? El Supremo? Mmmm….. Do you have any particular preferences, Sir?”
“Only that you send me the very best and that they arrive before the next full moon. I’m in a hurry.”
“Err…the moon, Sir?”
Damn, shouldn’t have mentioned that. That’s what happens when you spend too much time with Crazy Charlie and his weirdo Voodoo ways. Alignment of planets and all that stuff about how important it is to start the war on the correct moon cycle.
“Quality, experienced candidates, on the boat, TODAY!”
I slam the receiver down so hard that it jumps of the desk and crashes to the floor.
El Supremo doesn’t take sh*t from the little people.
To be continued...