Atomic Request
Atomic Request
A few seconds of static hiss on the screen before the camera snaps to life, focusing on an plain wooden chair sitting behind a low desk. The walls behind the desk are a dingy white plaster, and there is no visible window. A man with dark hair, wearing dirty and wrinkled fatigues, walks from behind the camera sits at the desk. He folds his hands, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. When he opens his eyes again, they stare straight into the camera, and he begins to speak in a low, calm voice. His English is excellent.
“As you are no doubt aware, we have taken control of our country back from the Prime Minister and his corrupt, degenerate cabinet. Far too long have our people been prey to the whims of such men, their hard work and their lives subverted and stolen to provide for the comfort of an elite, privileged few. Those who are guilty will be dealt with in accordance to traditional law, judged through the eyes of hundreds of years of wisdom.”
He takes another deep breath. His eyes, as they continue to stare into the camera, appear to be very weary, although his voice does not waver.
“It is because we have strayed from our traditional ways that we, as a people, have grown weak and foolish, and have allowed ourselves to be taken in by such deceit. Those in charge were first seduced, and they allowed the first few drops of poisoned ways to seep into our nation, which soon became a torrential flood. That flood tore through our proud country, reducing us to a nearly unrecognizable wreck of our former selves. But a few of us remembered, and stood strong on the rock of our beliefs. Now, as the poisoned flood recedes, the rock of our culture stands strong as a haven against modern corruption.”
He unfolds his hands and places them flat on the desktop, which tilts to the left as he leans his weight forward.
“There is only one way to ensure that this flood will never come again, that our people will never be threatened again. We only ask to be left alone. The unfathomable alliance that our former leaders held with the United States of America cannot stand. By allowing America to cross over our borders, the former Prime Minister allowed uncounted acts of terrorism to occur. Cultural terrorism. Everything our country was based on, created on, and held strong for hundreds of years was nearly destroyed by the poison of American degeneracy.”
He leaned back in the chair, voice unchanged, eyes still staring, and once again folded his hands.
“We want you to know that we possess a number of fully functional nuclear devices. They are scattered throughout the globe. You will never find them all. In thirty days time, if you have not removed all traces of American culture and influence from our country, we will transports these devices onto American soil and detonate them. You must remove all traces of your businesses and cease to export any more of your filth across our borders. None of your fast food will ever pass our lips, none of your music will harm our ears, none of your television will sear our eyes. Your ideas will no longer be able to destroy our mind or our hearts. Rest assured, I speak with the will of the people.”
The camera snaps off abruptly, and static once again fills the screen.