Practice for Tomorrow

Good evening readers of Backdooring for the Greater Good. Have you heard of this joke? Actually, there shall be no jokes, since this is a matter of national importance that could very well topple the balance of nature, and is the equivalent of casting a finger of death at our precocious Yusof bin Ishaks. In view of the topic, we must keep the mood grim but conducive to work in. Now, let’s do it.

Recently, the malicious overlords of the dark spawn have given the green light to begin the mass production of low-grade, high-returns calenders. It is of my belief that they have enlisted the assistance of famous local book company Popular Co. in the cultivation of these seeds of doom. They have chosen a messenger for each of the 44 clusters of independent musketeers. The mission? To spread life-threatening, soul-scarring propaganda to all who call the Earth their home. Unlike the propaganda that I have been unleashing on you, the congregation, for the past few days, this propaganda is one that you should cower in fear of. Stalin’s propaganda campaign has nothing on this, nothing at all I say. You may ask, what is this nefariousness you speak of, dear sir? I can assure you beyond all shadow of a doubt that you will not find yourself staring at the ecchi that I have been enraptured with these past few days. You will not gaze into the captivating eyes of Yuu, instead you will suffer a bone-chilling, money-swiping glare from the dastards of the netherworld. A word of advice for anyone who is willing to take up the challenge, prepare your coffin. And, 1400 gold so you can revive at your altar to engage in battle with the enemies of the light a second time, should any mishap befall you.

Let’s go a little deeper into this battle to end all battles, shall we? According to Milo Encompassing Future Universes(or ME FU for short), all residents of the Earth that partake in the consumption of this gift of the gods’ shall enjoy eternal invulnerability from all propaganda. However, the diablos we tremble in cowardice of have, after extensive research and a countless number of atomic experiments, found a surefire method to break through our shield of faith. By using the striking colour contrast between green slips of papers and white cardboards onto which the calender is printed on, they are able to render our only means of sane protection void. This is a blatant breach of our consumer rights! We fork out 10 dollars a month to enjoy the smooth texture of malty Milo flow down our parched throats. We have Milo freaks such as I who’d even turn out backs on ecchi for the sake of Milo. I’d like to pose a question to all of you. Why? Why should the privileges of Milo be overridden by the propaganda of the faction that brands Milo a cheap drink meant to satisfy the fantasies of children? Drink coffee instead, they say! I say, do you smell what Milo’s cooking? Every can of tenderly prepared Milo contains sugar, the afrodisiac that blesses us with the development of hormones and the drive to get us through the grueling days of emotional torture that force one to the point of feeling emo. I have been scarred with the emo disease once before, sad to say. Suzuka was the one that caused it, that it did. I shall never forget it. Let’s all take a moment to honour the creator of this ecchi series that kept my mood up for a grand total of three days. Besides sugar, Milo has incorporated a liberal amount of chocolate into its recipe. Do the majority of you even comprehend where chocolate is obtained? Why, from the Willy Wonka Chocolate Factory of course! The inflations have hit us hard, and those that used to cruise around in Mercs are forced to downgrade to Suzukis. On the other end of the spectrum, the die-hard Chery fanatics have found themselves on a padded cushion, the method of movement being human energy directed at two peddles. Concerning those who were already riding on bicycles, I do not wish to digress. That means you, Mr CZH. You know who you are and you will be called to the defendant’s stand to be zapped at a later date. I daresay you will require at least 100 Anks to protect yourself from the fury of the heavens.

Back to my point on the Willy Wonka Chocolate Factory. The Oompa Loompas have all demanded a pay-raise in light of the inflations. A hapless Mr Wonka has been compelled to give into their selfish desires. What a noble individual Mr Wonka is! Sacrificing his Yusof Bin Ishaks for the continuity of Milo! Let’s all give him the applause he deserves.

Thus, ladies and gentlemen, we must not let the propaganda of the scourge invade our hearts. Repel them! Drive them out in one earth-shaking exclamation! I urge all of you to purchase a generic calender from external sources, if you do not already have one, and attach it to your desk in school by tomorrow! One of these cute little calenders only costs $1. That’s $9 saved that I can spend on a much more deserving reward, ecchi. Yes, I would much rather give credit to the fertile imagination of those manga artists than contribute to the propaganda faction’s coffers. Now, let me explain the hidden significance behind these calenders you have purchased.

Please turn to page 12 of the school calender hanging in your classroom. There should be a picture depicting the day of Open House 2007. It is to our knowledge that the propaganda faction has infringed copyright laws by publishing images of unknowing boys! This is a outright display of voyeurism and warrants a finger of doom from all humanity. It goes against Section 7 of the holy gospel otherwise known as ME FU, for goodness sake! Point your index finger at them now and zap them before it’s too late! When the messenger arrives to feed you the fodder of propaganda, flash your bought-from-pasar-malam calenders at them to ward them off! I do not give a damn what calender you have. It can be of women in sexually stimulating poses wearing clothing that leave little to the imagination, or a fat God of Fortune dancing with Gabriella in the latest adaptation of High School Musical. It could even be a calender chock-full of ecchi. If you happen to have this, I suggest you sell it… to me. I will pay $10 for your calender; $20 if it has Yuu in it. That’s precisely right, I would take the saccharine Yuu-chan over a weapon of mass propaganda anyday.

I hope I have helped you in some way or another with this piece of work. Till the next time, I must bid all of you adios, and return to fantasizing about the chracters in Pastel. You walk into a girl’s changing room and there’s a girl there changing before your very eyes. She runs away. You decide to search the entire universe for her. You return to your house to prepare for the arduous journey by taking a shower. And then. You see her. Bathing in your toilet. That’s how Pastel goes anyway, read it if you already find yourself giggling maniacally at these few sentences. So, without any further ado, you may be dismissed.

Thank you.


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