Lodge of Legislators in Vesper,
Capital of the West Engell Republic
“That’s it, the nay’s have it, the motion for Midterm Elections has FAILED!” a Republican gavel holder declared before slamming that gavel angrily over and over until the wooden handle cracked. Supporters of the bill were either groaning in lament or rising to their feet to begin shouting at the stone faced Republicans, who remained sitting in their unofficial uniforms of black suit and tie. Metropolitan Police however reached them first, shoving the mostly old Republican men down harshly to the ground to be arrested.
Madame Veronica North, the socialist opposition leader, simply made a run for the exit towards the press, where Vesper 24 reporter Nicole Furroughs stood front and center as North had instructed. “This is the second time the southerners have interfered in our democratic process,” Veronica calmly relayed, “Prime Minister Edwin Grafton is a Cusso-SoCR Stooge who intends to prostitute Engellachia to the South!”.
Questions and reactions from other reporters began to ring out, but Veronica pressed on: “And with the help of the Vesper Metropolitan Attorneys Office, Vesper Police will be pursuing a warrant for the Prime Minister’s arrest to be executed the moment his plane returns from his traitorous trip to the South!”
Then, as precisely bribed to do so, the Metro Police Chief arrived in scene of the camera to tower over her and the press. “Mister Grafton has waged war upon our proud city -” he barked through a thick North Thaumantic accent, “If or when he attempts to re-enter the city he will, we hope, be brought in to custody peacefully!”
Questions rang out for Madame North, but she was already eyeing an exit. “I am heading east to Sylvania immediately, if Mister Grafton thinks he can go south to Welmonton and sell our Republic out to the Engellexian Pound, he has another thing coming - the might of Engellachians and Sylvanians standing together in social democratic solidarity!”
With police chaperones in tow the politician practically ran to the door containing private hallways. Once inside she was embraced and kissed deeply with the tongue of Felix Ilchester, her primary co-conspirator in this and the previous year’s catastrophe.
“Grafton ought not leave Beautancus alive, but if Steinvasser can’t deliver him the final round of poison, I have Heydendahl’s word he will deliver him to us personally!” Ilchester said with villainous exuberance. Together they walked hand in hand, laughing and cursing the Republicans, Cussians, and praising Grafton’s stupidity of deploying the military across the world for some ridiculous exercises while they plotted their takeover with the metropolitan police.
Far away on the other side of the continent, Grafton was coughing out a lung in the presence of the leaders of Beautancus, SoCR, and Clarenthia while Ilchester and North were crossing the border of Vesper and Sylvania in a luxury SUV.
Capital of the West Engell Republic
“That’s it, the nay’s have it, the motion for Midterm Elections has FAILED!” a Republican gavel holder declared before slamming that gavel angrily over and over until the wooden handle cracked. Supporters of the bill were either groaning in lament or rising to their feet to begin shouting at the stone faced Republicans, who remained sitting in their unofficial uniforms of black suit and tie. Metropolitan Police however reached them first, shoving the mostly old Republican men down harshly to the ground to be arrested.
Madame Veronica North, the socialist opposition leader, simply made a run for the exit towards the press, where Vesper 24 reporter Nicole Furroughs stood front and center as North had instructed. “This is the second time the southerners have interfered in our democratic process,” Veronica calmly relayed, “Prime Minister Edwin Grafton is a Cusso-SoCR Stooge who intends to prostitute Engellachia to the South!”.
Questions and reactions from other reporters began to ring out, but Veronica pressed on: “And with the help of the Vesper Metropolitan Attorneys Office, Vesper Police will be pursuing a warrant for the Prime Minister’s arrest to be executed the moment his plane returns from his traitorous trip to the South!”
Then, as precisely bribed to do so, the Metro Police Chief arrived in scene of the camera to tower over her and the press. “Mister Grafton has waged war upon our proud city -” he barked through a thick North Thaumantic accent, “If or when he attempts to re-enter the city he will, we hope, be brought in to custody peacefully!”
Questions rang out for Madame North, but she was already eyeing an exit. “I am heading east to Sylvania immediately, if Mister Grafton thinks he can go south to Welmonton and sell our Republic out to the Engellexian Pound, he has another thing coming - the might of Engellachians and Sylvanians standing together in social democratic solidarity!”
With police chaperones in tow the politician practically ran to the door containing private hallways. Once inside she was embraced and kissed deeply with the tongue of Felix Ilchester, her primary co-conspirator in this and the previous year’s catastrophe.
“Grafton ought not leave Beautancus alive, but if Steinvasser can’t deliver him the final round of poison, I have Heydendahl’s word he will deliver him to us personally!” Ilchester said with villainous exuberance. Together they walked hand in hand, laughing and cursing the Republicans, Cussians, and praising Grafton’s stupidity of deploying the military across the world for some ridiculous exercises while they plotted their takeover with the metropolitan police.
Far away on the other side of the continent, Grafton was coughing out a lung in the presence of the leaders of Beautancus, SoCR, and Clarenthia while Ilchester and North were crossing the border of Vesper and Sylvania in a luxury SUV.