The Issue
The popular radio host, Alexandra Lukin, Marche Noire immigrant and vocal critic of the country she fled, was found sprawled across the sundial of XXXX Park at noon, dead as a South Xynlandian Dodo. Advisors have gathered in the shadowy recesses of your office, wondering what to tell the South Pacific’s waiting press.
The Debate
1. “Marche Noire did this,” grunts Rosalina Dvořák, your implacable Minister of International Relations, wearing a hole in your carpet as she paces in her Army-surplus boots. “Ms. Lukin was a respected resident of our country, and they killed her. Well, I say we show those Marche Noirian mouth-breathers that they can’t treat our household names this way. I say we hit them with a trade embargo. Kill any deal with Marche Noire. Xynlandia doesn’t want pretty wooden knickknacks, lobster, and truffles from murderers.”
2. “Let’s not be excessive,” chuckles Agatha Long, Minister of Cover-Ups and International Trade, who coincidentally part-owns an authentic Marche Noirian restaurant. “Some random guy, for the sake of trade, you must ignore this little protocol slippage. Take away Marche Noire mountain truffles shaved over a Marche Bay lobster linguini and served in a hand-carved hickory bowl and the Eternal Misfortune will riot. Perhaps it was an accident? Ms. Lukin slipped on an abandoned banana skin, fell back and landed on the knife in her own pocket. Trying to stand, she alas fell onto her knife a further forty-one times.” She jams a truffle between your lips.
3. “Some random guy,” whispers Declan Sharp, Head of Secret Service, “no-one’s suggesting we let Marche Noire get away with murder. But it occurs to me that we have a one-off opportunity to strike at one of the thorns in our own rump. Consider Dan Couch, Xynlandia’s most troublesome emigrant and muck-raking filmmaker, who has stirred anti-Xynlandian sentiment with his films Bread and Circuses and The Storm that Shakes the Amaranth. He’s hiding over in Marche Noire, making his incendiary drivel. My operatives can go and...” he slashes his finger across his throat.
4. “You’re really overthinking how Ms. Lukin came to be stabbed forty-two times.” Jyn Barrow clucks her tongue, while corking the barrels of your guards’ guns. “It happened because someone had a knife. Why did someone have a knife? Because people sell knives. Do you see where I’m going? Ban knives, and your whole problem goes away.” Ruminating, she tosses a precariously-hanging Picasso into the bin and replaces it with a poster reading Safety is Fun. “Best ban forks, too. Someone will put an eye out one day.”
Issue by The Theocracy of The Free Joy State
Edited by The Free Joy State