“He’s got ’em on the list — he’s got ’em on the list;
And they’ll none of ’em be missed — they’ll none of ’em be missed”
The Mikado, Gilbert & Sullivan
Klouse (the K is silent) Swab, Führer of the Wicked Eugenicist Fascists (WEF) sat at his desk, reading intently from the large screen in front of him. On his lap sat a large white cat, which he absent-mindedly stroked as he read with obvious pleasure from the screen.
“Fritz!” he shouted, “vith ze utmost haste komm her!” The cat put its ears flat at the sound of his voice and produced a villainous look: a look as villainous as Klouse’s.
Fritz, his private secretary, glided rapidly into the room, as though on wheels. “What does your prestigious eminence require?” he inquired.
“Be at ze screen looking, Fritz,” he barked, sounding rather like a laryngitic walrus. “Ze data I am reading, is it not like balm for sore eyes? Vorldvide excess deaths for ze last veek, Fritz. Ze figures increasing are, and greatly are to me pleasing. Zey are music being to my eyes, alzough I would like to be seeing zem many more.”
“Ah, yes,” responded Fritz, peering at the screen. “Very pleasing. The Covid gene therapy vaccine was a masterstroke wasn’t it! It must have taken considerable expertise for one medication to cause such a multitude of illnesses, abnormalities and mortalities affecting so many organs and causing such varied symptoms. Wonderful to see.”
“Ja, indeed a masterstroke, Fritz. But it vas not vone medication as ve are knowink, but many medications different from ze batch to batch. It has been much fun to place bets on vich country vill get ze best numbers of ze deaths excessive, and from vich cause, eh Fritz? By ze vay, did you get your latest booster Fritz?”
Fritz paled and gave an involuntary twitch. “B-b-but I thought I was exempt mein Führer,” he stammered. “Have I displeased your excellency, that you would sentence me so?”
Klouse cackled loudly. “It vas just my little joke being, Fritz,” he said. “You know zat I am quite ze Komiker [comedian], eh?”
Fritz gave a weak and forced smile. “Yes of course, sir, you have quite a reputation as a… a…” his voice trailed off weakly.
“Ja, Ja,” Klouse said. “It is true, I ze ready vit am having. But zere are zose who consider you to be expendable, Fritz. My colleague Yuval Hairyharry, as you are knowing, ze useless eaters does not like. You he considers to be such an eater of uselessness Fritz. Be careful of zis man. He is not as other men, Fritz. Even I sometimes feel a little bit of ze Ängstlichkeit [nervousness, anxiety] vhen in ze presence of zis person.”
Fritz inclined his head in acknowledgment of this truth, but took care to speak in little more than a whisper, as one never knew where one’s utterances would end up. Should Yuval the unheimlich, [creepy, sinister, uncanny] which he was widely known as, hear anything disparaging said about him, the consequences could be quite severe. His obsession with transhumanism was rumoured to have resulted in some rather disturbing experiments, one of which had turned Fritz’s predecessor, Horst, into a human Bierhalle Musikbox [jukebox, nickelodeon] who spent his days belting out the Horst Wessel song, to the acclaim of many WEF members.
“Be telling me Fritz,” continued Klouse. “I am understanding zat zere are ze rumours malicious zat I, Klouse Swab, have deprived ze vorld of ze glory of my presence. In ze words of plainness, Fritz, zat I am tot [dead]. Do I look tot, to you Fritz?”
Fritz gulped and hesitated briefly before stating with what he hoped was conviction in his voice, “Not quite sir, er, of course not, you look… ah… strotzend vor Gesundheit [bursting with health], Herr Führer.”
“Ja, ja, it is so,” said Klouse. “But I am concerned, zat ze rate of population decline is too slow. Do you have any ideas of how to increase zis rate?”
“The encouragement of euthanasia is a positive thing,” said Fritz. “Perhaps if prestigious people were to voluntarily set an example by undergoing public euthanasia, it may encourage others to emulate their brave act, sir.”
“Who might zese prestigious persons to whom you allude be?” said Klouse. “Don’t be afraid your mind to speak, Fritz. You know ve are very tolerant here in ze WEF. Ve value life here… vell, ze right kind of life of course.”
Fritz thought carefully before replying, and when he spoke it was in hushed tones. “Do you think that Yuval could be persuaded to undergo public euthanasia? It’s not just you and me who find him a little disturbing sir. I’m sure that if a vote were to be taken, a large majority would be in favour.”
Klouse reflected for a moment. “Ja, I’m sure that this would be so, Fritz. Even Goebbels is uneasy in Yuval’s presence being.” He indicated the cat with an inclination of his head. “My legs are always injured when here Yuval comes. Goebbels runs away and lacerates my legs when he from my lap is springing.” He considered a little longer. “Any other names, Fritz?”
Fritz was getting rather excited now. “Well, the more prominent the people the better the example. More people are likely to follow. Let me see… I have a little list.” He began reciting a list, with what seemed to be great pleasure. “Bill Yates, Bony Blare, George Sawus, Shrillary Klunkin… that Chinese fellow Anthony Fow Chee, Joe Hidin’, Justinda Ardeau…” He looked at Klouse slyly. “Sir, you’re old, would you consider…?” Fritz stopped, realising that in his enthusiasm he had gone too far.
Klouse glared icily at Fritz. “You vere doing vell up until now Fritz. I vill sacrifice my place on ze list for that Chopkins fellow from OurTearRoar. Fritz, if you the Horst Wessel song don’t know, you had better start learning it. Now get me schnapps!”
