Once Upon a Time: Lil' Mayor's Decrete

The newsstand was full… But not full as in those times when a new, limited edition of an ancient comic comes out, one every pig of good taste would 'kill' to obtain a copy to keep it on his basement during years, to the exhibit as a kind of “exclusive rarity”… NO! The small stand was full due to the extremely alarmist and oversizedly expressive headline that was being exposed that day in one of its slighly dirty showcase:

“Mayor's New Law! New tax for every grey hair on head!”

That could be read on the 'Publi-pig' newspaper cover, printed in big and striking red letters.

'Every grey hair on head?' Asked a disbeliever among the crowd.

'It must be some sort of metaphore! Those of his kind love politic metaphores! – Commented a female pig with a fine dress.

'My pupsie has grey hairs... He also has to pay tax, or I have to shave him?' Said happily someone among such confusion.

'Che! Such confusion my eyes have to behold. What a paramount chaos! What a rarity of fate...' Sang a pig of ivory hat.

'Mom! There's still a golden ticket left!' Added a foolish piglet completely out of context.

I'll explain you a little better.

That morning, and after taking coffee on a big mug, the city's mayor ('Lil' Mayor' to friends) said to his secretary:

'Claris! This mug is way too small… We must get a bigger one!'

'We can't, mister… The big mugs are reserved exclusively to the eldest… That's, OLD…' Claris answered him with her phone on her ear, as usual.

'WHAT?! That means… I couldn't take my tasty little coffee on a big and warm mug?' Muffled the Lil' Mayor sad.

'I'm sorry, Mr... your are not enough old...' Claris replied with a cold and cross-eyed indifferent expression on her face.

'That's absolutley unacceptable! Bring the 'Book of Decrees' and take note!' The Lil' Mayor proclaimed furious.

'B-but Mr... The book only can be used if you're going to decrete something... For ever!' A thunder rumbled on that sunny day.

'Bring it here, Claris! Bring it here!' Reassured the Lil' Mayor, with resolution and solemnity.

Two gerpigs bounced into his office, carrying the heavy 'Book of Decrees', without exhibiting any fatigue while handling it with their tiny arms.

'The gym is working!' One of the bouncers clarified, putting the milenary 'sacred' book in front of the impacient Lil' Mayor.

With the book opened before him and with a fountain pen in hand, the mayor began to decrete, to Claris' horror and disbelif...

'Decrete N°3245643: In response to a public necessity of unavoidable priority, and in concomitance with decrete number 839402, extract 65, subparagraph 7, strophe 567, verse 34 of the Fourth Age of Sun, and with authority invested upon me by… Me… It's decreted that its absolutely forbidden to have grey hairs in my city; under punishment that, if someone had, he must pay every last gray hair… In cash.'

'Mr... I understand you want to promulge a law, and also that you want to exert the absolute power you boasts of, but… In what do we benefit exactly from this decree?' Claris asked, putting her job at risk.

'You see, Claris… Everything is in the plan. If people is charged for having grey hairs, the amount of people having them will decrease; and when that happens, by pure logic, the amount of elders will be reduced immediately, and, in consequence, the market of ENORMOUS coffee mugs must have to open to new customers or die because lack of consumers. And that way, I can make myself with the extra big mug I crave for… And in the process we could earn enough funds for that jacuzzi for municipal employees you all had been asking me for months.

'You're a genius, mister!' Claris added, finishing this long explained memory.

That's the reason why the city convoluted completely… The newspapers rolled! The press conferences... ROLLED! The geriatric institutes trembled! And economy... Well... Kept as it was…

Everyone in the city found out about the new and mind-blowing decree! From the youngest children who kept dreaming, against all possibility about finding a 'golden ticket' inside a soap bar, to the eldest elder who didn't know whether he was at home or at the top of the nearest mountain. (Extra note: He wasn't at home...)

Everyone knew the Law and its huge tax!

But no one paid… Not even a dime was drawn… Becaus, as you already know, pigs are bald! No one has grey hairs! And one must not ask such things to female pigs… They're ladies…

Hence, aside from a great adding for the grand juridical library, the decree was better said a legislative Gattopardismo that achieved nothing more than a headline or two…

But even though, all eyes fell on the tabloids; who, with letters a little less alarmists than those of the 'Publi-Pig' but still with the same level of treachery and intrigue, wrote on their headlines along with a picture of Lil' Mayor:

“His moustache doesn't seem very grey to you?"

(In other news, the princess said some very not-bourgeois things about her cousin's dress. Page 15)

Rumours began circulating and spreading as fast as a gerpig hopping on a meadow filled with butter… The rumours were true! The Lil' Mayor had to pay his own fine!

But amidst the confusion, there would happen a 'convenient' tragedy that would left this law completely nulified... And some other hundred of them…

THE END

STORMER