[Green Pastures SE, Cowland] September. 14. 19

Hidden away amongst the international business class who pass through her halls, an aging canide has made a residence within Le Grand Jardine de Bovious. A lavish and historic hotel, overlooking the world famous Vast Meadows of Southeastern Cowland in the scenic tourist town of Green Pastures.

Gently tapping my knuckles against the deep brown mahagony door of his diplomat suite, the immense menacing pressure I that had built up at the border between me and a sworn soldier against the capitalist order, shifted. The door creeked open from my light taps revealing a baroque room with exquisitely maintained purple walls, spotted with framed pictures of family and friends and the occaisional sci fi poster. Along the floor are a series of emptied liquor bottles neatly organized into pyramids. A moat of left over whiskey had formed around eachnof them from the dripping residue in the bottles.

Taking in the image of quiet destruction, I stood in the suite vestibule agape until a raspy voice interupted me, "Are you the room service calf, come to ask about the bottles again?"
I replied that I was an interviewer from the New Moo City Chronicles, and that I had an appointment to interview him.
He raises his hand to and beckons me further. Trying to avoid stepping the sticky barriers around the many haphazard monuments, I slowly waltz though the collection of bottles that he had amassed around him, and into the vacant armchair next to him. My subject for today, Segmeno Fido, former Vice Secretary for the Ministry of Public Information of the Imperious Socialist Sovereignty of Kiblston and exiled senior member of the Communist Party of Kibblston.

"Begin your questions," He shifts his weight torwards me. "be merciful. I am in mourning."...

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