The corupt old tyrant's head rolled into

The corupt old tyrant's head rolled into the town square, the rabble of famished country squires just behind it. Only his right hand man Hvick stood between them & the town well
. Hvick took some snuff up his nostril. "Well, rabble, I see you offted my sponsor most concisely. Could I offer my services to your peasant revolt?" The farmers paused
HGTV on their TiVo remote to consider Hvick's proposition. Farmer Bob spoke first "Well, we could use a hand cleaning out the chicken coop before we continue the revolution." Hvick
shuddered. Whenever farmer Bob talked about "the chickens" his spine froze. Farmer Bob's so-called chickens were really these giant, smelly
football players from Seattle. Fans of rival teams referred to them as the "Sea Chickens", but to Farmer Bob they were just "the chickens". They were ferocious, but dumb as rocks.
It was ancient Rome revisited, gladiators and all. Farmer Bob knew about Rome 2.0. It was all too real. And it gave him nightmares. He was seeing a psychiatrist and was told
to try Carthage 2.0. That was how Farmer Bob found himself on a robotic elephant, crossing the Neo-Alps on the way to the CyberItalian Peninsula. "I'm not sure about this" said Bob
because he hadn't had the Certainty Chip instilled in him during incubation. He had been getting spare lungs installed that day. Now, crossing the Neo-Alps atop a robotic elephant,
his electronic mind began to see the futility of this voyage. "I could be at home, safely away from extreme temperatures and moisture instead of riding this cyber-pachyderm in the
middle of the rain forest. What is wrong with me? I should be at home with my wife and two children instead of pretending to be a hero. I need to rethink my life. I'm getting old.

Started: 2012-06-17 19:01:21
Finished: 2017-07-18 20:09:15

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