CHRIS LLANFAIR, PRESIDENT OF THE RESERVE BANK AND COUNTING HOUSE OF SECOND LIFE
Hail had fallen all day and following the mid-day meal of ice water and grass, the sky grew black and sleet began to bombard the Plaza of the Benign Smile of the Great Leader and the Glorious Leader. It was going to be another Great and Glorious day in the Peoples Democracy of Clissa.
Traffic was stalled on the vast grey plaza below the massive dark grey cement House of the Peoples Glorious Love for the Great Leader and the Glorious Leader. A single light grey egg crate with a bright grey star painted on its side and had stalled on the grey slick cobblestone of the Avenue of the Blessings of Great Leader and the Glorious Leader. A General of the Army of the Beneficence of the Great Leader and the Glorious Leader, stepped from the egg crate, and adjusting his threadbare medium grey overcoat he reached for his Grand Wand of the Peoples Reward. Pressing a button on the handle of the wand, the tip of the wand sprung to life as it hissed and sparked and smoked in anticipation of fulfilling the needs of the people. A small village of emaciated avatars lay prostrate on the cobblestone behind the egg crate. Only two small children stood sucking on mud-sickles, as the sleet turned to razor sharp ice sheets and began to fall at alarming speed.
“This beautiful weather was yet another Blessing from the GL&GL,” the general said. Then after thinking a bit, the general rephrased his utterance, and then in the more formal, more correct manner, a and louder manner shouted. “Another Blessing from the Great Leader and the Glorious Leader.” The general shouted loud enough to ensure that he was heard in every corner of the plaza. He turned slowly and took in the grand view that stood before him. This magnificent plaza, two kilometer square, was a grey void of cobblestones, punctuated only by the huge statue of the GL&GL. All the cobblestone of the plaza were scientifically slanted toward the north so as to facilitate drainage and ensure that the Peoples Model Village of the Great Leader and the Glorious Leader was well stocked with ice water. The GL&GL had designed the plaza and by his powerful all calculating mind the GL&GL had designed the clever and bountiful slope now covered with a bountiful six inches of swift running water. The general fondly remembered the million volunteers who gave GL&GL this monument to the people’s ever lasting glory. To the east in the distance lay the squat massive bright grey cement Offices to the Left of GL&GL, and to the west was the larger but more elegantly designed ashen colored cube housing the Offices of the Right of the GL&GL.
The general turned and stood martially proud in his smokey grey cardboard boots, the envy of every other officer in the Army of the Blessings of the GL&GL. They had been given to him by the Hand of the GL&GL on his blessed birthday. A national holiday, in which everyone celebrated with vigorous outdoor demonstrations of hypothermia and prostration.
The general began to shiver and goose bumps formed on his pale grey skin, and he gazed to the South and toward the enormous grey leaden Tower of the Benign Justice and the Square Deal of the GL&GL. “I’m shivering in pride and joy for the Great Leader and the Glorious Leaders gifts of prosperity and justice,” he shouted to the empty plaza and no one in particular.
He turned again and waving the Grand Wand of the Peoples Reward in the direction of the peasants he shouted, “How dare you refuse the honor of powering the grand vehicle given to me by the Hand of GL&GL.” The Grand Wand hissed and crackled and glowed with a grey blue light anticipating a really bountiful reward. Perhaps 600 jewels worth or more.
Encouraged by the potential of a grand reward for their volunteer efforts, the peasants rose, first in twos and threes, and then in ones and twos. The tiny children, beating the ice from their frozen encrusted hands, grasped the wheels of the egg crate, and the crate began to move. The general retuned to his seat proud that no reward had been required to resume forward motion across the vast and empty square. Ah, thought the general, life is good, life is sweet, thanks to the GL&GL we do live in the best, most prosperous, and happiest land in Second Life. Glancing up toward the enormous steely grey pot metal statue of the GL&GL the general felt proud as his tummy rumbled in anticipation of a lovely dirt pie or a tart of wood shavings for lunch.
The enormous statue of the GL&GL, a gift from a grateful people, came sharply into view as the grey clouds suddenly parted. The general became breathless as he saw the splendor of the vision of the Great Leader with his hand on the shoulder of the Glorious Leader guiding him from behind and guarding his back. The Glorious Leader, his digitus medius raised from his clenched fist motioned toward the boarder with the poor benighted and unhappy land of Sonogno.
From within the statue, in a small cold room located within the pot metal fist of the GL, a very thin grey suited avatar, added the generals name to a long grey list. The general was going to miss dinner. If fact his account had been cancelled in the Glorious Peoples Democracy of Clissa.
“Beautiful, just beautiful,” said Chris Llanfair to the Head Engraver and Artificer of the Reserve Bank and Counting House of Second Life. Albrecht Intaglio Durr, smiled a tiny thin smile of satisfaction. “You really caught the gleam of patriotism and insanity in his eyes,” said Llanfair as he ran his thumb over the little raised ridges of honeydew alternating with a light lime. Chris paused for a moment to suck his thumb and remove the last vestige of breakfast.
“See how the Great Seal of Second Life looks in the dark,” said Albrecht. “Its our new anti-forgery technique,” he continued, as he drew the thick velvet black out curtains across the colossal windows that lined one wall of the President of the Reserve Bank and Counting House of Second Life’s grand guilt office. It was quiet in the grand office with only the hum and roar of the printing presses deep within the bowels of the RBCHSL turning out Lindens in as fast and furious a manner as overtime pay and a bonus could provide.
As the room dimmed and grew to total darkness, the “Blue Hand” began to glow at first faintly and then brighter and brighter. The revised seven Linden note resplendent in the new larger image of Mofo the Brave and Very Dead glowed with a radiant light, so bright that Chris could see clearly the photos of his family on his desk, and his award from the Walled Street Tout Sheet for initiating the financial panics of 04, 08, and 09. Not only could he clearly see the photo of his Daughter Whitney “Half Nelson” Llanfair standing proudly in her crisp new chauffer’s uniform, but he could also see his GED Equivalency Diploma on the far wall next to the framed picture of himself with Governor Linden at a poker game in the Calves Head Club.
He recalled that night long ago and how the Governor had slipped five queens into Senator Funstas’ hand. The old fart nearly died when Jobless Steves pulled a me-Blade on him and pushed him up against the rosewood wainscoting and while accusing the Senator of cheating, Jobless began to carve his name on Funstas forehead. The Governor and Chris had fallen down and were laughing so hard that Jobless Steves had gotten to the letter ‘b’ before they could explain and stop him. How happy had all been that night.
A lot happier then, than now, Chris thought, as the latest financial crisis came rushing back to mind like the rip tide in the Bay of Fumis. A run on the RBCHSL and begun on Wednesday of last week and the US dollar reserves held by the bank were dangerously low. Chris suspected arbitrageurs, money launderers, widows and orphans were at work playing their ugly financial games with the linden. Only Chris and Governor Linden knew how bad the crisis had become as speculators moved lindens in vast amounts to either Neopets or Zwinky.
When the panicked Governor had called Chris to his office earlier that morning the outlook had become grave. The 30 day trend line on the SLX had fallen to an all time low. When asked by Governor Linden what they could do besides print more currency, Chris had revealed his secret financial plan for the first time. The Governor had been stunned. The he smiled, offered Chris a Testosa Grande, and began a little dance of happiness. It was a clog dance, and although Chris hated clog dancing, he joined in.
Out of breath Governor Linden paused and the said, “How is that spelled Chris.”
Chris slowly spelled it out for the Governor. “ S I M O N Y,” he said. “Simony.”
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