oops traffick boss is sitting on an imaginary sofachair in his hyperprison, smoking an imaginary cigar, resting his feet on imaginary enslaved politicians, when suddenly (oops) a strange pall comes over dictator of dictatortopia
dictator of dictatortopia’s eyes grow wide like saucers and his arms raise in the air, his mouth rounds like a klaxon: “red alert! red alert!” dictatortopia (in hypnotic monotone) : “the battleships have invaded our sidearms! red alert! to your mudstations! red alert! to your mudstations!” traffick boss perks up from his pretend-relaxation and attends to dictator of dictatortopia, coming near him dictator of dictatortopia: “red alarm! i mean alert!” traffick boss: “now, what is going on here?” traffick boss blows imaginary smoke at dictator of dictatortopia (who appears to relax some, unrounding his klaxon mouth and lowering his arms— 1451
