“I want to say that I'm proud, so proud, to be Birinian." Chairman Miller began, nodding his head slowly as he spoke to the assembled reporters-cum-virtual representations of reporters. Recording drones representing the major news networks hovered above the press corp’s persons, broadcasting his speech through the entire Birin system and beyond. This in spite of the fact that technology sufficiently advanced to create hovering camera drones would presumably be able to create a camera the size of a pin that could be stuck on the wall and achieve the same level of quality as the drones.
“With the invention of the incredibly powerful Sashay Technology we achieved the ability to travel faster than the speed of light.” He beamed at the reporters below as his colleagues on either side shifted uncomfortably. He paused, inviting a question. One was forthcoming.
“How does Sashay Technology work, Mister Chairman?” a portly male reporter called out.
“Excellent question! It works by paying a lot of scientists a great deal of money.”
The reporter paused. “Well… no, I mean, what… makes it go?”
“A lot of scientists missing their children’s birthday parties. Anyway, enough technological mumbo jumbo. Moving on. We’re going to be going beyond our own solar system for the first time ever. And that’s, you know, pretty great, right? Think of all the stuff here and how much more stuff there is in the places that aren’t here. I hope we can all acknowledge that this is a great day for Birina. And it would be great if our detractors could join us in celebrating this great day and identifying themselves. Any questions?”
“Chairman, I must ask. It is my duty to ask.” A large-breasted female reporter who was as inquisitive and troublesome as she was large-breasted rose. “I have to ask what we have been asking all this time: What does this have to do with windmills?”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand the question, Sonia.”
“You are the Chairman of the Windmill Committee! We’ve given your Committee all this power over thousands of years with the promise that it would help you discover windmills! How does going to space help us invent windmills?”
“Well, let’s start with the facts, Sonia. Do you agree that we are the Windmill Committee?”
“Yes, I just said that.”
“Okay so we’re coming from the same place. Fact one: We both agree that I am the Chairman of the Windmill Committee. Now, do you believe that windmills are worth investigating?”
“Yes, of course I do!” She shouted over the noise of her breasts being large. “Our… entire society has been geared towards discovering windmills!”
“Okay, calm down, we both agree on the facts thus far. And facts are what will ultimately drive the search for windmill technology, which we both agree is at least potentially important. At very least we need to investigate whether or not it’s potentially important.”
“So we still haven’t made any progress discovering them?”
“Well, no, that’s not true. We’ve ruled out several potential uses.”
“Such as?”
“Well, we’re pretty sure windmills aren’t involved with intergalactic travel because we’ve achieved that without their assistance. I’m trying to apply the scientific method, which from observation of scientists I’m fairly certain consists of virginity and crying a lot.”
“It seems, sir, that yet again the Windmill Committee has forsaken their oath to pursue The Great Windmill Endeavor in favor of expanding their own power and hosting many lavish dinners during which no windmills or windmill-related accoutrements were discussed!”
“I’m just as angry as you are.”
“What? But you did it. How can you be angry about it?”
“I agree that an independent committee needs to be established to investigate the Windmill Committee. I will spearhead the creation of this committee.”
A normal-breasted reporter leaned over to her male-breasted colleague and murmured, “If he were guilty, why would he be so willing to investigate himself?”
“And how will the investigative committee be selected…?” Sonia asked, her voice shrill.
“At random.” Miller replied, closing his eyes. He shot out his arm, pointing towards the audience and began moving it around wildly.
“The Chairman of the one-hundred and ninety-eighth investigative committee is going to be… you!” His finger pointed sort of up and to the right of the crowd. He opened his eyes.
“Me?!” A lanky older man shot up and waved. He had been seated rather substantially to the left of where Miller pointed.
“N-No.” another reporter began, “I’m pretty sure he pointed over here.”
“Me?! It’s me?! It’s me!” the older man continued shouting and jumping. Chairman Miller crooked his hand ever so slightly so that it pointed at the shouting man.
“Yes. You are who I selected totally by random.”
“Thank you! I’m so honored! I can’t wait to go to the next windmill dinner.”
“No!” Sonia shouted emotionally, “You’re supposed to investigate the windmill dinners!”
“Sonia, Sonia, Sonia…” Miller tutted at her, “How is he supposed to investigate the dinners, which are a travesty and need to be looked into, if he’s not invited?”
“You didn’t even choose him randomly.”
“He closed his eyes! Everyone saw it, Sonia!” the normal-breasted reporter piped up. Her voice was slightly less shrill than Sonia’s.
“How does going to space get us windmills?!” Sonia screeched breastily.
“Well, do you see any windmills here?” Miller answered calmly. “We haven’t discovered them yet-“
“Because your committee has misappropriated the funds for over a thousand years!”
“Like I said, we both agree that we haven’t discovered them yet and we both agree that it’s worth looking into. The reasons why they haven’t been discovered are as yet unclear. But I agree that we should establish an independent committee staffed by a randomly selected person’s cousin that I’m friends with to look into that.”
“Oh my God.” Sonia took her seat again, her defeated sighs causing her large breasts to move up and down and her voice to take on a more agreeable tone.
“We’re going to space to find windmills, people. That’s it. Sonia, would you come with me out into the futuristic hallway to my space-study for a private chat?”
“Fine… But why would you call it a futuristic hallway? Or a space-study? Surely, we aren’t in the future. We’re in the present. And even though we’re in space, it’s just a study. Back when we didn’t travel in space but we sailed on boats, we put studies on boats. And we didn’t call them water-studies or ocean-studies, we just called them stu-“
“Future hallway! Now!” He marched out with Sonia and a few drones that were just for decoration following him out. The remaining reporters buzzed with anticipation.
“I really think we’re going to see windmills within my lifetime!” One of them said excitedly to a friend behind them as the door closed, separating Miller and Sonia in the hallway with the drones.
“Why do you insist on fighting the Committee, Sonia?” Miller asked, his deep and responsible voice rising above the unnecessary humming emitting from the floating hover drones’ metallic breasts. He walked across the hall to a door that had “Study” laser etched into it with “Space-“ apparently hastily scratched in so as to append and make it a “Space-Study”.
“You’re a brutal regime that exploits the incredibly noble mission of inventing windmills in order to enhance your own power!”
Miller entered the study and quickly emerged with a glass of whiskey in hand. “Yeah, but like, besides that. Why?”
“I- Are we going into the study or…?”
“I just needed the whiskey.”
“Why?”
“To deal with a goddamn woman.” He threw it back, “There we go. Alright, hit me.”
“I will not stop fighting for the truth. For windmills. For Birina. For Birina to have windmills. For all that windmills stand for. Also I need money and can’t really do anything else.”
“Much like the mighty windmill…” Arthur paused to take a manly swig of another glass of whiskey. He had managed to procure it while Sonia was talking because he wasn’t listening. “I will spin no matter how hard the winds blow at me.”
“Wait, but don’t windmills… want wind-?“
Arthur drank the rest of his whiskey. “That is unconfirmed right now.”
