#+title: The Universal Satire: An Epic Farce.
#+author: A Lunatic.
#+date: 2024-12-21

#Epilogue.

  Sing ye lords above the end,
  Of the one who did naught,
  So great in their inaction,

  That they never had action,
  Nothing, nor reaction,
  Who had no sword, no dove.
  
  So hear this tale of all,
  As great as the battle of
  The great Mice and Frogs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
#Chapter III.

Here we begin with our glorious protagonist,
Notable for nothing, neither pragmatist
Nor idealist, but a tabula rasa.

They live in naught but a house, a . . . chamber, a bathroom, a kitchen-room. What all of the middle class have.
Their nation was in trouble.
                             At once they heard a commotion outside.
Gunshots.
         . . .
                    . . . .
                             They woke up upon the floor.
They were singing outside.
                             They were talking outside.
                                                        "Long live the Ideology to save our Nation! Our FOLK! Our FREEDOM!"
                                                  "Vive ca!"
                      . . . 
                            Their door opened.
A kick,
        A shout,
                  A crack--
And so they ended gone. A thunder of the light and shout. Another crack. They came wondering where our protagonist was, but he was gone. Where? That is their question.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They fell through the floor into chapter Π. Better known as π or πι, or 3.14. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#+Chapter Π, π, πι, or 3.14. 

  The protoganist stood up. There were 5 tables in a space of some sort. There were no walls and nothing but the tables, and darkness outside. Our protagonist, if he had bothered to think about what he was standing, would've noiticed that there wasn't anything, but they were too scaredy to think about it. They stood up and looked around, each table had a colour, Grey, Blue, Gold, Red, and Green, and a group of shadowy figures around each. They cried out, "What is this place and who are you?" He heard an answer, but saw no movement. "Those who came into your house." 

  "Am I dead then?" The protagonist asked, but heard no response. So they went to the central table, the Grey one. But before he could ask a question, the figures yelled "What do you believe in?" and before one's tongue could move, they added "It better not be anything extreme." Our protagonist, as we have said before, never really believed strongly in anything before, and thus answered: "What you believe in."
  
  They responded, sardonically, "And what is that?" This stumped our fair protagonist, who really didn't expect to get this far. They answered, shakingly, "That the radicals are mad and some other things." They congratulated the protoganist on the answer, and began to complain about the other tables. "The other tables, everyone's who's at them is mad." "They're all just terrorists." "We can't change too fast." Upon hearing this, the protoganist interjected "What should we change then?" And so the tallest of the table answered "No, we must perserve the good we have!" Our good subject replied "Why yes, but can you tell me how to leave this place?"

  The tallest answered, "No, for this is the best system that we have! We might move around a bit, but we can't risk it all!" The others murmured in agreement.
  
  Seeing that they didn't much help to our protogonists objective of leaving whatever this place was, they left the Grey table and went to the Blue one. The first thing they heard upon arriving was,

  "We hope you aren't one of those dirty know-nothings from the central table." They answered that of course they weren't, but rather were spying in hopes of helping the Blue table. The highest of this table then responded with "Thank the author, you're one of us, the strong, who reject the insane bable of the other tables. We must perserve our strength, keep our table planted and destroy the others so we could escape." 

  After hearing this, our protoganist felt glad, for after hearing the stifling, circular thoughts of the Grey table, any change seemed like a much better approach than sitting around doing nothing. They told our protagonist to the other tables and sabotage them, convincing the Yellow table to join them, and destroying the Red and Green tables from within. The last that they was as follows, "May the author help you and destroy those foes!"

  But as they proceeded to the Yellow table, they realized that trying to destroy the other tables wouldn't bring them any good, how were any of them responsible for this? But when they arrived, they were immeaditely interrogated with "I hope you aren't one of those repressive scumbags from the North!" And thus they agreed once more, "No I'm not, I support your liberty wholeheartedly, but can you tell me how to get out of here?" And they answered "Sure, everyone has the freedom to move at any time!" But this response satiated no part of our protagonist, "But how do I get out of here? Which way to go?" 
  
  This was answered by "Whichever way you want." So, becoming angry, our protagonist cried "Alright then, how 'bout that way? Where does it lead?" As they pointed outwards past the figure. It answered, "Oh no, you can't go there, for we respect total freedom until it infringes on someone else's." "And how do I infringe on someone's freedom if I go there?" "Because that's my private property, and I have the right to decide who goes there and when, else it's tresspassong!" "And how is that space your property?" "Because I improved it." But our protagonist could see no diffrence between the "improved" space of the figure, and the space they just passed, and thus decided that this table would be no help to their goal, and thus crossed the room to the Green one. 

  The first thing they hear was "I hope you aren't one of those greedy pigs from that side of the Grey!" Their heart sank, for this was same fourmulaic response from the other tables, and thus didn't expect much help from them, a simple result of primitive pattern matching. He responeded, without much energy, "I'm not, in fact I hate them just like you!" The figures responded with delight, saying "So you must be one of us, who hates their stupid property, who steals the rightful clay of everyone from them, we must hold it all in common if we with want true liberty!" Another added "Why yes, the only to break free from the tyranny of laws and government is to do exactly that." This peaked our protagonist's intrest, who asked "But what if someone doesn't want to hold all their things in common?" The answer they got was "Well they wouldn't, everyone would simply agree that it's best for them and everyone else, and if they wouldn't, they'd simply be shunned by the commune in the form of true justice, not the fake one of government!" The protagonist wanted to dispute some more, but saw that they'd get nowhere.

  So they once more asked for the way out of this room, and got the same result, "Why, if we study theory enough we'll find a way out for you." "If we just use Mutual Aid, we can help you and us out!" "Why would you want to betray us!" 

  Our protagonist saw that they would go no further here than at any of the other tables, and thus, depressed, continued on to the Red table. Upon their arrival, they heard a familiar greeting, "I hope you aren't one of those idealists from the Green table!" To which, our protagonist answered as they answered the past four times, and were told, "You want to run? You wrecker! You wish to run instead of staying to make this place better? We, the Vanguard, must seize all the tables with total control so we can make everyone free and equal." 
  
  Though wishing to comment on the unlikelihood of them giving up power, our protagonist had learny their lesson and thus ran away, howling with rage, away from the tables. 

  But when they passed the edge of the light surronding the tables, they saw a many more dark figures dancing out, they're shouting turning into one infernal roar. If they'd try to listen to the shouting, they would've heard that it mostly consisted on political appeals and propoganda, but their ears hurt too much for them to do that.

  So they truned back to the circle of light, and sat down away from all the tables. He lamented, first howling with rage, then quietly crying. "I am really to remain here forever with all these imbeciles, is there truly no escape? What about my friends—family—home—hopes, dreams! No I will escape, I will!" This blubbering blob eventually becaem tired, and fell asleep.

Chapter II.