Special News Bulletin from the Front!
War Correspondent J. Higginbottom Reporting--
Friday, May 30, 2003
J. Higginbottom: This morning, at approximately 10:30, General Shakespeare marched into Liechtenstein with his troops. The streets were lined with cheering crowds! Flags waving, troops marching, and the General brandishing his immortal pen--it was truly a momentous moment! The troops were nowhere to be seen--
(voice from the background): What--? I thought they were all marching and--
Higginbottom: William Wallace's troops. It was OUR troops that were marching and--
(voice): Oh. Well, proceed.
Higginbottom: Thank you. As I was saying, our troops were the only ones visible, in a manner of speaking. Though it had been rumored that William Wallace, that famous (or, some say, infamous) protector of Scotland, had migrated over to Liechtenstein and there amassed a great army, these reports were clearly exaggerated. When asked where Wallace's army was, the citizens of Liechtenstein refrained from comment--
(voice): Refrained?
Higginbottom: Refrained. And you instructed us NOT to use force, Mr.--
(voice): No names please.
Higginbottom. Right, sir. So we abandoned our attempts to question the Liechtensteiners, and instead made a close inspection of the enemy headquarters.
(voice, surprised): You FOUND their headquarters?
Higginbottom: Yes, sir. Yes, we found them--it, I mean. It was cleverly camouflaged as a Cracker Factory.
*pause*
(voice, quietly): A PEANUT-BUTTER Cracker Factory?
Higginbottom, surprised: Why, actually, yes, sir. It was. How did you--
(voice, even more quietly): Adjoining the Happy Egg Farm?
Higginbottom: Well, as a matter of fact, it WAS--
(voice, strangled with emotion): No. No, I won't believe it. I will NOT believe that one of our own Special Agents--
Higginbottom: Spies, sir.
(voice): --Special Agents could be so incompetent. It just isn't POSSIBLE.
Higginbottom: Sir?
(voice): Why, you idiot! You stumbled on Pieter J. L. P. E. Q. Z. E. E. C. D. S. Friedrich Alfaninffe Lancaster Limdadedude, Jr.
the III, the XIV, the L, the XXX, the XCIX, the CDLXXIII, and the MCCCLXXXVIII,
Esquire, King, Fuhrer, Magnate, Baron, Czar, Mogul, Tycoon, Monarch, Sovereign,
Despot, Duce, Tyrant, Dictator of Liechtenstein,
and Commander-in-Chief of the Massive Massed Hordes of Barbaric and Ferocious Furious Fighting Armies, Navies, Air-Forces, and Marines of Liechtenstein,
Proud Possessor of the Indocilis Refractariolus Haedilia Title as Bequeathed in Honor of Services Rendered's headquarters, and you LET HIM GET AWAY!
Higginbottom: But sir, we were told he was dead and--er...well...dead. We didn't EXPECT him to be there, and--
(voice, choked): Not by US, you weren't. But--I must be calm. I am going to calm down. Must do this calmly.
*pause*
(voice): Did you, or did you NOT, see ANYONE leave the...the headquarters?
Higginbottom: No one.
*uncomfortable pause*
Higginbottom, less confidently: That is--we DID see an old peddler selling pot-holders, but we didn't think--
(voice, dangerously even): That's right. You DIDN'T think.
Higginbottom: Yes, sir. Selling potholders. He left shortly after we arrived. All the neighbors said that he came there regularly on Friday mornings, and peddled to the officers.
(voice, muffled): Obviously that was his disguise. He must have been in contact with Wallace's army the whole time! This certainly changes things...
Higginbottom, respectfully: Yes, sir. I'll instruct our guards to keep a sharp eye out for him.
(voice, calmer): Very well. Did you find anything? Anything he might have left behind?
Higginbottom: Yes sir. We found an old package of--
(voice, breathless): Yes? Yes? What was it?
Higginbottom: Of crackers, sir. We thought that perhaps they weren't a clue. It WAS a Cracker Factory, sir.
(voice, thoughtfully): Yes--yeess. It WAS. Still, it might be camouflage--have them tested at once, and send me the result.
Higginbottom: Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir, but the...er...the REPORT, sir.
(voice, annoyed): Well, what about it?
Higginbottom: Well, we're still on the air, sir, and I thought perhaps we ought to close this off--
(voice, surprised): On the AIR?
Higginbottom: Yes, sir, and I thought--
(voice): YOU didn't tell me we were on the AIR! Why, this was TOP SECRET information! You can't just broadcast this to everybody! Why, you--!
Higginbottom, breathlessly: I'm sorry, sir! I'm--wait, I really AM sorry sir! I'll...make it up to you, sir...*sound of chair breaking*...sir, I...HELP!! HE--
Announcer: I'm sorry, ladies and gentlemen. We seem to have lost our connection to War Correspondent Higginbottom--we will attempt to fix the problem. In the meantime, we are bringing you a special report from the Health Council, entitled "DOES Chocolate Keep You Healthy?" Stay tuned--we'll be right back after these short messages...
War Correspondent J. Higginbottom Reporting--
Friday, May 30, 2003
J. Higginbottom: This morning, at approximately 10:30, General Shakespeare marched into Liechtenstein with his troops. The streets were lined with cheering crowds! Flags waving, troops marching, and the General brandishing his immortal pen--it was truly a momentous moment! The troops were nowhere to be seen--
(voice from the background): What--? I thought they were all marching and--
Higginbottom: William Wallace's troops. It was OUR troops that were marching and--
(voice): Oh. Well, proceed.
Higginbottom: Thank you. As I was saying, our troops were the only ones visible, in a manner of speaking. Though it had been rumored that William Wallace, that famous (or, some say, infamous) protector of Scotland, had migrated over to Liechtenstein and there amassed a great army, these reports were clearly exaggerated. When asked where Wallace's army was, the citizens of Liechtenstein refrained from comment--
(voice): Refrained?
Higginbottom: Refrained. And you instructed us NOT to use force, Mr.--
(voice): No names please.
Higginbottom. Right, sir. So we abandoned our attempts to question the Liechtensteiners, and instead made a close inspection of the enemy headquarters.
(voice, surprised): You FOUND their headquarters?
Higginbottom: Yes, sir. Yes, we found them--it, I mean. It was cleverly camouflaged as a Cracker Factory.
*pause*
(voice, quietly): A PEANUT-BUTTER Cracker Factory?
Higginbottom, surprised: Why, actually, yes, sir. It was. How did you--
(voice, even more quietly): Adjoining the Happy Egg Farm?
Higginbottom: Well, as a matter of fact, it WAS--
(voice, strangled with emotion): No. No, I won't believe it. I will NOT believe that one of our own Special Agents--
Higginbottom: Spies, sir.
(voice): --Special Agents could be so incompetent. It just isn't POSSIBLE.
Higginbottom: Sir?
(voice): Why, you idiot! You stumbled on Pieter J. L. P. E. Q. Z. E. E. C. D. S. Friedrich Alfaninffe Lancaster Limdadedude, Jr.
the III, the XIV, the L, the XXX, the XCIX, the CDLXXIII, and the MCCCLXXXVIII,
Esquire, King, Fuhrer, Magnate, Baron, Czar, Mogul, Tycoon, Monarch, Sovereign,
Despot, Duce, Tyrant, Dictator of Liechtenstein,
and Commander-in-Chief of the Massive Massed Hordes of Barbaric and Ferocious Furious Fighting Armies, Navies, Air-Forces, and Marines of Liechtenstein,
Proud Possessor of the Indocilis Refractariolus Haedilia Title as Bequeathed in Honor of Services Rendered's headquarters, and you LET HIM GET AWAY!
Higginbottom: But sir, we were told he was dead and--er...well...dead. We didn't EXPECT him to be there, and--
(voice, choked): Not by US, you weren't. But--I must be calm. I am going to calm down. Must do this calmly.
*pause*
(voice): Did you, or did you NOT, see ANYONE leave the...the headquarters?
Higginbottom: No one.
*uncomfortable pause*
Higginbottom, less confidently: That is--we DID see an old peddler selling pot-holders, but we didn't think--
(voice, dangerously even): That's right. You DIDN'T think.
Higginbottom: Yes, sir. Selling potholders. He left shortly after we arrived. All the neighbors said that he came there regularly on Friday mornings, and peddled to the officers.
(voice, muffled): Obviously that was his disguise. He must have been in contact with Wallace's army the whole time! This certainly changes things...
Higginbottom, respectfully: Yes, sir. I'll instruct our guards to keep a sharp eye out for him.
(voice, calmer): Very well. Did you find anything? Anything he might have left behind?
Higginbottom: Yes sir. We found an old package of--
(voice, breathless): Yes? Yes? What was it?
Higginbottom: Of crackers, sir. We thought that perhaps they weren't a clue. It WAS a Cracker Factory, sir.
(voice, thoughtfully): Yes--yeess. It WAS. Still, it might be camouflage--have them tested at once, and send me the result.
Higginbottom: Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir, but the...er...the REPORT, sir.
(voice, annoyed): Well, what about it?
Higginbottom: Well, we're still on the air, sir, and I thought perhaps we ought to close this off--
(voice, surprised): On the AIR?
Higginbottom: Yes, sir, and I thought--
(voice): YOU didn't tell me we were on the AIR! Why, this was TOP SECRET information! You can't just broadcast this to everybody! Why, you--!
Higginbottom, breathlessly: I'm sorry, sir! I'm--wait, I really AM sorry sir! I'll...make it up to you, sir...*sound of chair breaking*...sir, I...HELP!! HE--
Announcer: I'm sorry, ladies and gentlemen. We seem to have lost our connection to War Correspondent Higginbottom--we will attempt to fix the problem. In the meantime, we are bringing you a special report from the Health Council, entitled "DOES Chocolate Keep You Healthy?" Stay tuned--we'll be right back after these short messages...
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