This Red is Tape [READ ONLY]

[Pikabo]

Click here to open link to OOC thread.

---

बतसन पम्बन्स
Batasan Pambansa
Bahay-ng-Batas, Ganatrastadt

XXVI Batasan
III Regelmäßige Sitzung










A

LAW

TO ESTABLISH THE DEPARTMENT OF INFORMATION










Zusammengestellt im öffentliches Informationsbüro
der Batasanhausbibliothek

---

​

Roming "Bob" Halili, MP for Basanisa III, led failed the leadership campaign against der Kanzler. His appointment as Informationsminister was a shock, for two reasons. Criticized as totalitarian, the new department is politisches Dynamit. Schattenminister für Informationen claims it's an attempt by the ruling party, and quote, "to relieve both pains in the arsch with one big schwanz-up." In other news, Rana Awit gets her fifth Busen job-​

The passenger jolted. He stared at the muted radio. His jaw tensed in a struggle to get something out of his mouth. Failed, he gulped it down and returned to the windows. He watched as the car turned at the corner of Commonwealth Street and Republic Avenue where he smiled. The sight of teenagers and young adults marching down the lane. Public assemblies are patriotic acts, not treason. This is true in any equitable modern society, written on the disgruntled young faces other than their signs and posters, just as in the law. But then he noticed what the demonstration signs and posters actually read. He frowned.

"'Bob ist ein Busen'...? 'Halili, don't rob our country of its dignity...or we'll get fussy with your bu-.'"

"What a bunch of respektlose Ferkel... Eh, Herr Halili?" A gravelly voice said.

Halili peeked over to the driver's seat. He saw a rugged-looking man wink at him. Halili laughed and then nodded. "They barely understand what they're talking about. If it was up to me, I'd send them to der Batasan and make them form a government."

A chuckle might be nice. Instead, the driver raised an eyebrow. Halili chortled, "...L-Let them put their misguided ideas to work and see how dumm-dumm they are. With all their fallacies hat verloren in the middle of their emotional breakdowns, I doubt they'll even pass the first reading. Hah!"

The driver smiled. He put his eyes back on the road. "You seem pretty confident about this new post. It's your first time to be a Staatsminister, and you betrayed der Kanzler!"

Caught off-guard, Halili failed to keep face. He tittered out the nervousness in his small body. "T-That's too nice of you to say. It's nice to be strong...it's not as good as true for someone schwach like me, as much as I'd really want it to be."

"Nah. I mean it," The driver nodded up for Halili to beckon him to the rearview mirror where they could see each other better, "I used to work for the late Staatsschatzmeister. The poor man was trembling like a guilty child. Suffered lähmende Angst, depression, and, if you happen to know the Departmentium für Landwirtschaft und Fischerei, fatal autoerotic autophilia by carbon monoxide poisoning."

"Ah, morbid and fictional. It was diabetes and there is no 'Departmentium für Landwirtschaft und Fischerei.' Still, I'm waiting for the punchline."

The driver smirked. "Is it?"

Halili narrowed one eye at the driver. As Halili opened his mouth, the car screeched to a halt. The forces that be threw Halili forward. His lithe body slipped through the gap between the front seats. He landed on his hands and secured himself from further, nastier fall, and held onto the dashboard and the driver's thighs. His forehead an inch away from the solid blunt knob of the stick shift.

Halili's bodyguard in the front seat opened the door and got out. He went to Halili's door and opened it. "Bereit, Herr Minister?"

Halili managed to squeeze out on his own. He smiled a superficial one to the bodyguard who smiled back. Halili glanced behind him and saw the driver's grin. Halili muttered, "Should've asked that before you got out of the auto..."

Halili stepped out and stepped on the door, and he kicked it shut behind him. He continued to smile despite it earned him amused looks and a few shocked faces from the people in front of the new building—a five-storey complex, though under the enormous shadow of its much taller neighbors, indeed skyscrapers; the office gleamed from what light reached it and shone brightly on its polished glass and fresh steel.

A tall woman emerged from the wall of suits. She gave a curt nod and offered her hand with a smile. "Lustige Fahrt, Herr Minister? We have been dying to meet you."

Halili accepted and shook her hand. Then he flinched at the toned emphasis on the word 'dying'. He looked up to her, and from there, took a few very quick glances to look her over: Her earthy complexion complimented her green pantsuit quite well. Quite. Slender. She has long brown hair. Her oval features strongly suggest her Lasakit heritage. But in regards to beauty, personal preferences might profoundly impact his judgement. Instead, he could tell from looks given to her by her male subordinates as they ogled her from behind. Based on the latter evaluation, he concluded his little deductions (based on a tip before he left Central House).

"You must be der ständiger Vizeminister, Frau Bondoc."

Bondoc giggled to his mild satisfaction of an underwhelming confirmation, and it certainly did not rub off well on Halili. She gestured her hand to the young man next to her. "This is Herr Bañaga. He will be your Hauptprivatsekretär."

Without notice, Bañaga reached and lifted Halili's hand from his side. However unpleasant, the young man gave off a likeable warmth and an enthusiasm Halili wanted to see from his team. After Bondoc, he could not ask for anything else.

"Freut mich, Herr Minister. I look forward to working with you." Bañaga smiled, and he did it with such positive energy.

Halili returned the pleasure with a positivity of his own: another smile. "Danke, Herr Bañaga. I am also looking forward to working with you, and our team as well." He shared a smile over his shoulders with the rest of the department gushing from behind.

"Oh. Please call me Kaska, Herr Minister."

Halili nodded. "Then Kaska, if it's all the same to you, call me Bob."

Upon closer examination, Kaska wore a plain black suit with a red tie. Bald and particularly plain. Bob also noticed how Kaska's dark skin emphasized the stark contrast between him and Bondoc, easier for Bob to conclude Kaska's ancestry must hail from the next country down south.

"To him, but not to me," Bondoc butted in, "It'll be ständiger Vizeminister, Herr Minister. No name-basis."

Bob glanced at Bondoc. "Well, Verzeihung? I didn't notice I was asking you, Frau Mayet."

Mayet stifled a laugh. "Apologies accepted, Herr Minister."

Bob darted wide eyes at her. Immediately, it proved hard to determine the exact expression on her face. Either she simpered or just smiled, perhaps even somewhere in between, has become an entirely different matter. She darted her eyes back at him, albeit narrow and more poise than his alarm, and his wide eyes became even wider.

Kaska stood between them. Thus, he felt the full force of the newly-established tensions between Bob and Bondoc. He must have called upon the same confidence from earlier as Kaska snaked his arms around Bob and Mayet's shoulders. Kaska had to reach higher for Mayet's shoulders, but he linked them together like comrades in arms. It did not suit Bob's liberal tastes.

Bob only realized Kaska pushed him and Mayet to turn around when they face everybody who shared the same expression on his face.

Kaska greeted from a cringe crept around his smile, "Umm. Willkommen im Informationsdepartmentium!"

Bob felt his stomach turn at the sight of a camera pointed at them.

 

[Pikabo]

---

सूचना मंत्रालय
Kagawaran ng Impormasyon
Informationsdepartmentium
Dimaculanganhaus, Ganatrastadt

Amt des Informationsminister










A PROPOSAL: FACT-FINDING MISSIONS
TO SIERRA AND KOROVA










201910639
VSCbhz57​

---

"I told him about der stellvertretender ständiger Vizeminister, your Hauptprivatsekretär, the number of stellvertretende Sekretäre under your Hsch, my stellvertretende Sekretäre, einfache Sekretärinnen, and the rest of the administrative staff, both civil and non-civil, according to either their civil service ranks or their respective department divisions. He blew heiße Milch all over his Käsekuchen through his Schnazle."

Vice Minister Mayet Bondoc savored a shot of brandy. Let it settle a bit in her mouth before she swallowed as she continued to listen to Kaskaran Bañaga, ministerial principal private secretary.

"Herr Minister then proceeded to argue against the need for a fully-functional department when it's barely new, especially when der neue Minister hasn't been confirmed yet. I tried to explain the need for the government to continue its work even when there are no ministers present, alive or in existence, but he wouldn't listen."

"...Why are you telling me this, Herr Hauptprivatsekretär?"

Kaska looked up in the air.

Carefully, though she thought the small action is foolish enough to warrant stupidity, Mayet took a cursory look in case something is on the ceiling. She sighed. 'Nothing', she thought, and then she growled in contempt. She then sized up Kaska.

It might be a good day to throw a body at the Old Industrial Park later tonight. No one can see in the dark waters. Mayet peered down at the newspaper on her desk. BALLAST WATER MISMANAGEMENT AT HARBOR, the headline read. No one can actually see anything in the waters at any time or date, especially when you're a certain color; clean of any prejudice except environmental and most likely economical in both senses.

Kaska snapped his fingers and smiled in the return of his eyes to a frowning Mayet. "Herr Minister wanted me to tell you about what I told him about what you told me to tell him, and what he told me about what happened to him afterwards, then tell him after I tell you, after you tell me about your reaction to what he told me to tell you."

Mayet deadpanned. "Herr Hauptprivatsekretär. If you don't want to go down to the job center this afternoon, I strongly advise you to find your backside a comfortable surface before I kick it out of mein building."

Kaska groaned. He sat on one of the chairs in front of Mayet's desk. "It's not my fault. He told me to tell you exactly what he told me-"

"Just. Halt. Hauptprivatsekretär. For your own sake."

Mayet dropped two dossiers on the table and pushed it forward towards Kaska. One is labelled Sierra and the other Korova. Kaska took Sierra and flipped through the pages. He wrinkled his forehead at the last one. He flipped through it again and squinted. He took Korova to do the same thing, and he checked it thrice. He kept the same expression from the first document. He looked at Mayet as if she is insane. "Frau ständiger Vizeminister. The documents are blank."

Mayet pushed another document to Kaska. She rotated it the right side up from his view.

Kaska took into it his hands.

"'Fact-finding Missions on the Highland Republic of Sierra and the Kingdom of Korova'?"

"Ja. Some Dummkopf forgot these were two separate proposals." Mayet kicked against the floor to propel her into leisurely rotation on her swiveling chair. "Amateur."

Kaska nodded. "Ja... Forgive me for my ignorance, Frau ständiger Vizeminister, but isn't this an FA matter? It sounds odd for Ministerium to pass it to us."

"Ja und nein. In principle, Staatministers share in the executive. In practice, they're just an extension of Frau Kanzler's authority. Whether it's domestic or foreign or septic, it doesn't matter unless the public sniffs it out. Now, Frau Kanzler caught wind of the news. She believes new trade partners might help her build Lawston's diplomatic image."

Mayet leaned back against the chair.

"Naturally," she continued, "more countries mean new markts and potential Investitionen, among other gut things for the economy. Of course, there will be no full commitments until we learn more about these countries. Frau Kanzler initially asked FA, but Herr Außenminister insisted they'll be too busy preparing to establish diplomatic relations."

"Aber...that doesn't explain why they picked us. A fact-finding mission is almost routine for any department," Kaska organized the documents on top of each other, "Why do they want us to do fact-finding missions?"

Mayet smirked. "Apart from there is no clear precedent for an unknown country to call for diplomatic recognition, der ständiger Vize-Außenminister left me with the draft letters...although he heavily implied it had something to do with a certain busen in Ministerium that needs to be sent away for a couple of months."

Kaska stared at Mayet. He then raised his hands up to his face and proceeded to point all his fingers in pairs of two.

"What are you doing, Herr Hauptprivatsekretär?"

"I'm counting how many Brüste there are in Ministerium."

 

[Pikabo]

---

सूचना मंत्रालय
Kagawaran ng Impormasyon
Informationsdepartmentium
Dimaculanganhaus, Ganatrastadt

Amt des Informationsminister










PROGRESS REPORT

PAMBANSANG PATNUBAY: NATIONALER LEITFADEN FÜR LAWSTON
ONLINE VERSION










202001264
Ysdn4ZzW​

---

"I envy the presidential staff..." Kaskaran Bañaga, ministerial principal private secretary, said on a lengthy sigh in front of his computer screen, "Nagagawa nila yung mga...ganitong mga bagay-bagay."

"Mga bagay-bagay? What sort of things, Kaska?" a blonde man asked. He sat in front of Kaska. His glasses pointed down on the desk, he pushed it up every time it slipped too far from the bridge of his nose. He wrote something down, eyes glued on a piece of paper, and quickly scribbled it off.

Kaska grabbed the computer. Gently, he turned it around. "This sort of thing."

The blonde continued writing without so much of an eye blink.

Kaska raised an eyebrow. It looks like he has to get the guy on it in order to get anywhere with him. He reached over his desk and waved a hand right in the man's face. "Huy! Kaminsky!! Look here, Kaminsky!"

Kaminsky looked up and saw a website on screen.

"Ah, the Pambansang Patnubay website," Kaminsky nodded, "The President's message... Mukang kay... It's Balagtas. Bold letters, italics, and all caps at the end... All dead giveaways. And, in my opinion, overdramatic."

Kaska frowned. He turned the computer back in the right direction. "Ay. Pabayaan mo yan! I meant the Office of the President! To write letters to foreign heads of state...nagsusulat ng mga boshat sa ibat-ibang sulok ng daigdig. I don't even want to be Private Secretary to the President. I could be a speechwriter, and it's still a cut above some low-level department with some power-hungry, elitist mil-."

Out of nowhere, while Kaska is out of place and certainly out of time, Mayet Bondoc stood by the open door. Hands folded and shoulder against the door frame, she smirked at Kaska and Kaminsky. A straight-to-the-point shooter like her would have already gone in for the kill, bloodied and made very important points about the virtue of respect. One is unsure if he should be worried or relieved, or both. Well, one is still new and one has yet to learn.

"S-S-Ständiger Vizeminister!" Kaminsky stood up, or more like leaped from the chair. He did not even fix his glasses. It hung dangerously on the end of his nose.

"Well, well, well," In a strut, Mayet approached Kaska and Kaminsky. "If Herr Hauptprivatsekretär des Informationsminister wants to seek employment elsewhere, I would be happy to help you tender your resignation," She stomped, and slammed her hands on Kaska's desk, "Glaube mir, I would be VERY. HAPPY.

Kaska did not flinch. He did not even look away. Instead, he looked up to her and nodded. "I'm very sorry, Frau Ständiger Vizeminister. It was very inappropriate of me. Very disrespectful. I promise I won't do it again."

Mayet snorted. "I don't care if you want to kill me right now, Herr Hauptprivatsekretär." She turned and walked away, towards the side where she could look through the glass walls and see the outside.

"Was misch... I'm deeply concerned you were careless, and you were indiscreet."

Kaska remained silent. He looked at Kaminsky, but he already sat and went back down to do his thing.

From the top floor, Mayet could only look over the other small office buildings at the feet of the mighty skyscrapers. Kaska watched intently as she leaned closer to the glass, and it looked as if she wanted to kiss it. "In this profession," she began, "one requires...a certain of uh... Well, degree of discretion."

Kaska narrowed his look.

"Like the public in any situation or crisis," she continued, "there are certain things we shouldn't tell Herr Minister. For the good of the department, the government, und für das volk."

"But what about the good of der Minister? Aren't they the head of this department?" Kaska asked.

Mayet gasped. "Hauptprivatsekretär! Government is to serve the governed! Not the governors. We don't do so at the pleasure or well-being of ein minister. Elected officials come and go, but Beamte carry on. It's a lifetime sentence. It's our humble sacrifice to die Republik. No one knows we're democracy's first line of defense!"

Kaska raised both his eyebrows.

"Anyway," Mayet turned and faced Kaska, "Don't ambition for the Amt des Präsidenten. Even if you're uncouth, you still have a career ahead of you...outside the service," Mayet walked away from the glass, "If you just want to make a message to please an audience, enter die Grußkartenindustrie. Or do charity, 'feed the sick' and 'heal the poor'. All 'exciting', unlike Balay. You, and you."

Mayet pointed at Kaminsky, and, somehow, he sensed it and looked up to her. "Both of you should understand by now die essenz of a ceremonial presidency. Besides, we weren't supposed to have a president. The ruling parties needed an easy way to eliminate the most unsuitable candidate for Kanzler. A party bedauerlich always thinks it's an honor when it's really an effective banishment from politics."

As Kaska moved his lips to open, his office phone rang. He picked it up. "Hallo. Hauptprivatsekretär des Info- Herr Minister—? Er, I mean, Bob?"

Kaska looked at Mayet.

"Put it on speaker." She said.

Kaska pressed the button.

"KASKA!!! KASKA!!! I'VE GOT SOMETHING TO BRAG TO THE ARROGANT HEXE!!! I h-have just been called by Zentraleshaus and they asked me... They asked me... THEY ASKED ME!!! A CANDIDATE FOR THE PRESIDENTIAL NOMINATION!!! IN THE NEXT ELECTIONS!!! WUNDERBAR!!!"

 

[Pikabo]

---

बतसन पम्बन्स
Batasan Pambansa
Bahay-ng-Batas, Ganatrastadt

XXVI Batasan
III Regelmäßige Sitzung










A

LAW

TO ESTABLISH PRASAR LOSTAN










Zusammengestellt im öffentliches Informationsbüro
der Batasanhausbibliothek

---

​

Dimaculanganhaus

"Kaska. Los!"

The night is still young, but the workday is over. It is as clear as night.

Minister of Information Roming Halili, with his Principal Private Secretary Kaskaran Bañaga, entered the black sedan. The Minister's official car provided with the new department. One of the perks, if Bob may say so. And he always does in his little world in that little head of his where no one can hear or scrutinize. Perfectly safe from gossip, the media...

...And the Permanent Vice Minister of Information.

"Oh, Bob. Ich habe es fast vergessen." Kaska said as he opened his briefcase. "Frau Bondoc gave me this before she left. Apparently, she forgot to tell you when she met with your Parliamentary Protocol Adviser...er. Herr Linto Aamer, MP for Hararouz-Süden/Zentral?"

"From Linto...? Huh. I think I might have an idea on what it is about."

Kaska rummaged through the contents of his briefcase and produced a folder. He gave it to Bob.

"There's...another issue, Bob. If you recall earlier in The Batasan during the vote-"

"Ha. The dreaded legislation." Bob threw it aside on the seat. He did not even bother to look at it any longer after he saw the Suchari word for 'Broadcasting' in the title.

"Kaska, do you understand why people call this department an apparatus of...an autocratic manner of certain regimes that need total obedience of its people through propaganda and coercion, often tempered by immediate purges in order to secure their absolute authority?"

"Uh... What?" Kaska scratched his head.

Bob smiled. He looked at the window and shook his head as he looked at his own face on the reflective tempered glass. He cleared his throat. "U-Um. Sorry. I was repeating what Bondoc said after the last committee meeting. Didn't you-?"

Kaska snapped his fingers. "Totalitarianism!"

"Yeah... Anyway, our Lawston is a democratic state. Like another, as passionate towards the rights of man, as impetuous towards those who abuse it."

Bob looked over the folder and opened it. He found it is a document. He turned to a page and put his finger on a paragraph.

"Imagine what the media thought after they read this: 'Prasar Lostan will serve primarily as a vehicle for the State for purposes of information, arts, culture and sports, education and science, and international development and trade, in order to foster national pride and identity, and become a medium of continuity for the Republic.'"

Kaska leaned in to take a few quick scans at the document. "I guess the first part is understandable, but everything else seems normal."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk." Bob wagged a finger in front of Kaska. "Try more than you seem, and you'll actually see. Here..."

Bob pointed. "'Information.' Don't you see the problem? —The conflict of interests? Take a good look... What comes to mind?"

He traced a line under the word. "There's already a lot of implications packed in that one word and just one can always do the trick to find a journalist's gold mine."

"How?" Kaska scratched his chin.

"I was editor of a newspaper once, so let's see what we got here." Bob looked down on the document. It took him some time to read. He pondered upon it with his squinting eyes. The evening may not be exactly the middle of the night, but the light only comes when they pass a storefront or a street light. Though many, it still comes in intervals.

"'Information'," Bob began and slapped his hands on the briefcase on his lap, "Easy to associate with us, and our department's name not only refers to public affairs, but also communications, tourism, and the Statistisches RepubliksAmt. That's a wide-ranging discussion from telecommunications, to tourism ad campaigns, and all the way to the national census."

"Starting with communications at a government level," Bob pointed his thumbs at himself, "there's departmental responsibility for the coordination of Ministerium communications: control over official correspondence and PR of executive departments for the sake of the 'national interest.' Each 'to serve primarily as a vehicle for the State.'"

Bob picked up the document and waved it around, tapping on the cover page. "With this new law, Nasyon TV and Radio Iterien, the nation's largest broadcasters owned by the government serving the public interest, will be merged into a new corporation under the Department of Information...'to serve primarily as a vehicle for the State.'"

"Oh," Kaska nodded, "Problem."

"So now we have our subjects," Bob plopped the document on top of his briefcase, "the next thing is vital to construct a sensational story: Find the worst case scenario. Consider the most severe possible situation, even theoretical. Write it in a way it reads like it can be reasonably predicted or examined. With the right phrasing, it will work."

Bob rubbed his hands together, "With telecom, connect far-left infiltration in the government and the power of the internet to spread its ideology. For tourism ads, an attempt by the far-right to promote racial unity by discouraging foreign migration. And the census? A secret network of civil servants ruling the country will use the data to find which marginal constituencies to manipulate."

Kaska laughed though it sounded-off, nervously actually. He snapped the clasps closed on the briefcase. "Ja... Ha. Ha."

Bob raised a hand. "But it's none of them. The worst case scenario is when all of THAT was fabricated by the State and reported on N-TV Channel Two or Radio Iterien News. That's the story."

Kaska remained silent.

Too quiet, in fact...

It bothered Bob when it became apparent. Probably 'too tired' most likely to continue the conversation. It had been a busy day as usual. The travel back and forth between Dimaculangan and The Batasan is taxing, and today's diary included the Ministerium Office, the Department of Foreign Affairs, and the opening of the Prasar Lostan headquarters. Locations spread out across the metropolitan area. A little longer, something else came to Bob's attention. Perhaps-

"You entered the wrong door, Bob."

Bob looked at Kaska. The corner of his lips dropped and his eyes looked as if they were ready to pop out. "...What?"

Kaska gave a cringing smile. "When Speaker Dimaano called for division, Aamer pulled you to the side to give you a copy of the Prasar Lostan Act but you hurried to get in line. Remember who was in front of you on your way out?"

"Ja, of course I do! Yes—right, no's—left. Es war Herr Alwablah, und der Frau Kanzler was right next to him-"

Kaska closed his eyes and sighed.

"Oh Scheiße."

 

[Pikabo]

A Bit of Bob Halili
Komedya 1
​

"That's it Herr Kaska! It's the straw that breaks the camel's back! " Bob sternly declared, making slurping noises while he drank his hot milk. He breathed in hard and growled as he burped out. "BOOONDOOOC!" He continued, "That Arrogant Hexe! She must submit to her superior—OR HOT MILK WILL RAIN ON HER!!!"

Kaska gaped at Bob, his hand pressed against his mouth, eyes wide and open. He couldn't believe what his minister just said. This must be...the milk talking. Probably the berries on the cheesecake. Moldy cheese perhaps? Lactose intolerance (but that doesn't make sense, Bob eats cheesecake! What is Kaska thinking-)? Whatever it was, this can't be Bob's noggin' speaking. Only a crazy person will stand up to the Permanent Vice Minister of Information, or any senior civil servant at that, dead or alive. A crazy person!

Well, that is becoming apparent...for some time now.

"B-But Herr Minister- Bob..." Kaska winced, can't believe he's stuttering. "You can't be serious!! Du kannst!! You know what she's like!"

His fist raised high up, he slammed it down and banged it on the desk. The milk in his glass, which is still in his hand, erupted and splattered the dairy across the desk. His eyes twitched and locked on Kaska's. "I DON'T CARE WHAT SHE LIKES!!! I AM THE MINISTER AND I AM HER BOSS!!!"

The Minister reached for the phone across his desk, but he seethes and groans in pain. He puts his hand in the tender hold of his still capable other with the milk, against the cool and moist glass surface. "Oww. My hand..."

When Bob tried to press the tip of his finger on it to massage the pain...something definitely crunched.

"OWWWWWWW!!!" The glass of milk slips from his hand and shatters on the floor, spilling and staining its contents on the carpet.

Kaska sighed in relief. "Danke den Göttern!"

 

[Pikabo]

A Bit of Bob Halili
Komedya 2​

N-TV article on Frau Rana Awit was retracted following protests from fans. They've sent threats to N-TV employees and a man was arrested after firing blank rounds at Prasar Lostan CEO Shristi Chetti. She was receiving an award at the Organisation Rundfunkanstalten annual dinner. In The Batasan, the Informationsminister condemns the attacks as "dangerous cultism." He calls on Awit to take action and control her fans. In other news, investors look to Vivanco and North Craviter-​

The driver turned the radio off.

He turned to Bob with an enthusiastic grin. "Wir sind angekommen, Herr Minister!"

Bob looked out the window. The red horizon fades as the blue sky reappears in the dimming sunlight.

If Bob couldn't figure out what's going on with Rana Awit and her beef with N-TV, then he couldn't possibly figure out why this radio announcer forgot to mention his name when he cited his words ad verbatim.

I would've appreciated it if they just said Busen...

Bob sighed. Nothing ever seems to go his way, as he would've liked it. He always dreamed of getting the top job, but only a job away from there and he's already feeling dejected. It makes him really wonder if this is what he's meant to do...

Masyado kang manhid... Alam mo ba yun, Bob?

Haha!! The only reason you were elected class rep is because we had no choice!

Bob shook his head. He's not a kid anymore. He's a grown man, and there are more important things he needs to remember. Adult things. Nothing juvenile or academic. It's all by the authority of the government and on the consent of the governed. That's what it is now. A parliamentarian with a portfolio on the rise. For all intents and purposes, that's success. He doesn't have to prove anything to anyone.

They'll see. Everyone will see. He will be more successful. It may not be now, it may not be too soon, the climb up the greasy pole will be difficult.

Bob got out of the car and stood watch on the sidewalk. Department dispatch boxes were being lifted by the driver from the car trunk. When the driver stacked them up in his hold, Bob led the way inside his townhouse residence.

"Wo soll ich das hinstellen?"

"Oh. Um. Just here in the living room is fine. On the carpet next to the armchair."

The driver did just that and grinned a farewell nod at Bob as he went past him. Bob was about to say goodbye when he felt something slap him on his behind.

Bob blushed, and growled, though pathetically. Still, that was...!

"Toilettentroll!" He felt his feet carry him as he ran after the driver.

"Manhid ka ba, Bob?"

Bob froze. He couldn't speak or feel anything. He just watched the driver go inside the car and cruise off out of the street.

Recalling that grin on the driver's face back in the car, he does look familiar...

What a bunch of respektlose Ferkel... Eh, Herr Halili?

It's that driver! The same one who drove Bob on his first day as minister!

Persistent bastard. Bob slammed the door shut. He kicked his shoes off to march and slide his way to the kitchen. He feels a headache coming on and he needs some hot milk and cheesecake. It may be almost time for dinner, but who cares? His wife is still at work and his children are back at home.

Yes, his wife probably left dinner in the fridge...but it's in the fridge! It's cold and, after an entire day signing papers and redrafting the redrafts of his drafts redrafted by Bondoc for his original redrafts of her first redraft on his first draft. There's no energy left in his arms to put anything in the microwave.

I couldn't even tell the drafts apart...