Bill Schwingel

Once upon a time there was a self-proclaimed knight from a foreign land who came to a kingdom called NIU and decided to face off with another member of the land to become king.

He was armed with only a lance, which had “political clout” engraved on it. Weapon drawn, which looked very dull compared to his newly shined gold armor although somehow similar, he began his journey to sway the kingdom.

The knight gained support by claiming his lance would destroy the evil monster—the administration—that had been plaguing the kingdom.

If the people had only known the “dreaded weapon” could not pierce down pillows, he would be alone to this day. Unbeknownst to anyone, the golden knight’s armor began to darken in spots.

But the mix of semi-clever words and a limited use of brain power gave the golden knight more support. But not before promising that he would never forget them. The spots from before began to spread.

On his path through the kingdom to the castle, which he thought was called the SA, he met another knight. This knight had silver armor that almost shined as much as his own.

And the knights struck a bargain. The silver knight promised the golden knight he wouldn’t outshine the other as long as he could be his second-hand man and said he would throw in extra support.

On the way to the castle, both knights tried to remember stories their ancestors told them of how the SA stood for justice and equality.

Unfortunately, this notion never surfaced above an idea of the glory the golden knight would achieve once they ended their journey.

Suddenly, the golden knight was confronted by peasants from his foreign land. They screamed at him for justice, for the peasants were once royalty and he was their banker.

However, when he started on his journey, he had forgotten about them. They charged him with lances of their own. He tried to fight back, but lost because his weapon had only ever been used for show and his armor began to chip away.

He screamed that it was no fault of his own, that he was being unjustly accused because they didn’t like him, as had been proven by a mysterious decree floating around the kingdom.

This decree claimed the golden knight wasn’t qualified to run the kingdom, that his armor was made of fool’s gold, which was terribly appropriate for the wearer.

But by this time the knight was within a short distance of the castle and he was able to run inside to safety.

Once inside, he went to greet the rulers. To his surprise, the ruler was the evil administration. But this knight wasn’t through yet.

With unparalleled cunning, or so the knight thought, he made a deal with the evil entity. If it would share the leadership with him, he would make sure the kingdom obeyed most anything it tried to do.

The administration thought it over and agreed. The knight was elated and told himself that game was easy and that it would be just as simple in the future.

However, then the administration showed him to his quarters—an outhouse.