Note to readers. I occasionally dabble in experimental writing. In the following work of fiction, I combine political satire, antisocial commentary and outright silliness.
Political turmoil erupted in the mythical Central Asian republic of Twerdistan. General Tim had seized control of the central government and exiled or imprisoned his political foes. However, for less than altruistic reasons he held opposition leader Glenny the K under house arrest in the House Without a Spouse. His reasoning was simple: The mental institution in the capital of Hirsuit was fully booked.
General Tim, who had butted heads with Glenny, kept tight control over Glenny after his arrest. He hired guards around the clock armed with AK-47s and squirt guns to prevent Glenny from escaping and keep his supporters at a safe distance. The government closed Glenny’s Facebook page to limit his contact with the outside world and monitored his emails. With a lot of time on his hands, Glenny read the Bible, listened to Rush LPs, looked at his image in the cracked bathroom mirror and bounced rubber bands off the walls.
The government took away his razors for security reasons but hired a barber once a week to trim his beard and shave his head. The government also brought takeout meals from the Cracker Barrel. Glenny’s favorite dinner entrée wasn’t on the menu: banana slices with toast.
Glenny’s supporters grew restless. They conducted evening vigils outside the House Without a Spouse. “From his head down to his knee, Glenny the K will be free,” they chanted. “Long live Twerdistan!” Like followers of Charles Manson, some of Glenny’s supporters shaved their heads in solidarity. One supporter carried a placard reading “Bald Lies matter.” Someone grabbed the placard, threw it to the ground, stomped on it and yelled, “You schmo! You’ve got the message wrong. It is ‘Bald lives matter.’”
By contrast, Glenny’s rival, General Tim, was very insular and unpopular. He issued edicts via email with the impersonal greeting “Hello” and seldom ventured from the presidential palace. And when he did, a phalanx of guards and other sycophants protected him from protesters who chanted, “General Tim, you can’t hide. We charge you with twerdicide.”
On occasion, Glenny’s followers brought him doughnuts. He was as fond of the sweet treats as Homer Simpson. They came up with a plan to help Glenny escape. On one evening they brought an extra batch of doughnuts that they had spiked and handed them to the guards on duty. After the guards fell asleep, they took a guard’s key and quietly unlocked the door. “Shoosh!” a supporter whispered as a groggy Glenny came to the door. “The guards are asleep. You must escape before they awaken.”
They hoisted Glenny into the air and marched him through the streets of Hirsuit. “Glenny the K is now free,” they chanted.
However, they weren’t sure about what to do next. They looked at each other and said, “What is he free from? What are we going to do with him?”
And to all who could listen within sight, they said, “We wish you a hairy Christmas and to all a good night.”