The Greenest land in the world


An introduction to my funny adventure book, about the regression.



Once upon a time there was a young and handsome boy.

The boy loved to talk.

People admired this young and handsome boy.



The boy matured and became an eloquent and charming man.

He loved hearing his own words gracefully roll from his

beautiful lips and the young man's most fervent dream was

to become a politician and change the world. He joined

a party and ran for an elected office. He won over

the voters with his polished conduct and entertaining

speeches, and so he became popular and was elected to the

parliament.

At the time that he was elected minister, a pimple

began to grow on his nose. The pimple was rounded,

like a soap bubble, and bubble it was called whenever it was referred to. 

The bubble was situated right between his eyes and the minister was 

uncomfortable and felt humiliated by the bubble on his nose.


At first, while the bubble was rather small, the minister

was able to conceal the bubble by wearing sunglasses.

His assistant dashed between cosmetic stores and pharmacies

and bought medicine and creams. The minister spread a

thick layer of cream on his bubble and chewed his medicinal

pills, but the bubble seemed to like the medicine and continued to grow.


The minister's loyal assistant, John, asked 

"What are your plans regarding the government and its financial affairs?".


"Can't you handle it? As you can see I'm busy," the minister

replied and studied the bubble in his hand mirror. 



When the minister came home, he immediately went to the

bathroom and attempted to pop the bubble. But the bubble

remained in its own independent biosphere.



Then the minister went into the garage where he obtained

a can of gas. The minister poured the gas on his bubble and

lit it on fire. The can of gas exploded and the last sound

he heard before he lost consciousness was a loud, powerful

bang



The minister awoke in a hospital bed. He had a large bump on

the back of his head and was surrounded by specialists

with flapping wings and halos wearing white suits while holding attache cases. 

The minister was sleepy and did not fully understand them. 

During his drowsiness he heard them sing:


The bubble won’t burst (middle C)

The bubble won’t burst (an octave higher)

The bubble won’t burst (an octave higher)

The bubble won’t burst (bass)  



An odd, green gas began to form inside the bubble. The minister

changed his diet, got a detox, a new lifestyle and a haircut. He

switched to a new barber since his old barber refused to cut

his hair on account of being afraid of nicking his bubble. The

only barber that dared cut his hair was a young, effeminate man

who said his name was Barbie, and added that it was short for Barber. 

"Just for the fun of it," he said as he laughed a delicate laugh.

The minister retained his popularity with the public.

People counted on him to maintain the status quo and the

public voted for him in the following election.



The bubble grew and grew. It began to affect his personal

relations and his wife stopped kissing him goodbye in the

mornings. He was appointed the leader of his party and the

party members told reporters that his bubble was the self-

evident prerogative of the party's leader. The minister

was not popular among young people, but the older people

voted for him as a result of habit.


The bubble continued to grow and as a result the minister was

beginning to float during his daily morning walk. Excuse me,

I meant his morning glide with his dog Grace. He was so

enamored of his dog that he added her to his will. The lawyer had been

half speechless at the prospect and asked 

"What do you mean?!".

But later the lawyer came to realize just how good the

minister and Grace's relationship was. It did not matter how much the

bubble grew, Grace always loved the minister the same. Each

time the bubble grew, so grew Grace's share of the will. 

Where was I? Oh yes, the morning glide. Every morning the

Minister and Grace always stopped by at the bakery. The bakery opened

bright and early in the mornings for the minister. During the

morning glide, the assistant was hard-pressed, he held onto

the minister with one hand and onto Grace with the other.

The baker was in a good mood that morning and offered the

minister free rye bread with his order. The minister said no thank you.

"Are you afraid of being blown away into the wide blue yonder?" The baker answered and chuckled.

The assistant became awkward; he looked as if he would either

cry or laugh and it seemed as if he couldn't decide which. Finally

he said: "Thank you, we are done here." On the way home the minister said: 

"To this bakery I shall never again glide."

 The minister became sad and decided to discontinue his morning glides.


The party members helped the minister to relocate into a big black castle. 

There they installed him in a big hall in a high and venerable, plastered throne. 

They chained him to the throne with golden leashes. The minister sat in his

venerable throne and gave the party members good advice through

a computer, such as, raising the old-age pension of the party

members. The minister was much more comfortable in the castle

for the castle was specially tailored just like the minister's

clothes. The minister hardly lifted a finger and was

provided with all of the services one could imagine. 

To be continued in a book for you to buy.

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