Kriegfart


‘Hang Out Your Robins On the Kriegfart Wall’ was a favourite marching song of the Chimeric legions.

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The Kriegfart, or ‘War of the Broken Wind’, one of Chimerica’s most devastating civil wars, was brought about by an incidence of flatulence.

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Several of Chimerica’s most devastating civil wars and/or natural disasters involve incidences of flatulence, but on a less intimate scale.

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When the Ambassador for Monster Island released a radioactive anal blast that poisoned half the Chimeric cabinet, war was tragically inevitable.

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King Stang’s eructation during a state dinner accidentally punched a hole in the space-time continuum, but that posed a more existential threat.

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What they actually fed the Moth People’s Emissary, causing a decade of diarrhoea and aerial bombardment, was the subject of many enquiries.

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The Kriegfart began with a follow-through by the Duke of Matted Further. The Chimeric Queen’s resulting witticism led to the war, the wall, the collateral damage …

War for the Planet of the Magic Monkey Trees


The incoming Chimeric administration has promised to renew Chimerica’s infrastructure of Magic Monkey Trees overnight using ‘tragic beans’.
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Making Chimerica’s Magic Monkey Trees great again is going to need a lot of ‘tragic beans’, or, as experts call them, Radioactive Ape Turds.

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One thousand space monkeys who’ve been too near the sun then dosed up on ‘Doc Moreau’s Patented Hyper-Laxative’ are being released as we speak.

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If you see a singed interstellar singe (that’s French, Tish) taking an agonised noctilucent dump in your garden, Do Not Approach!

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The Magic Monkey Trees will begin growing almost immediately after the groaning, and should start cropping within days of the crapping.

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Each Magic Monkey Tree will look like an auracaria, but instead of cryptic crossword clues will continuously generate more and more monkeys.

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The monkeys though initially cute will rapidly multiply beyond our control and rip everyone limb from limb thus fulfilling our manifesto promise.

Hidden Moustaches


The hidden moustaches are in the houses.

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Please note it is not that the moustaches are hidden in the houses: their hiddenness precedes these (and possibly all) houses.

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Though the hidden moustaches may in addition be hidden in these particular houses – our information is not clear on this point.

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It’s possible that, as part of this further hiddenness, all the hidden moustaches may be in one of the houses, we simply don’t know.

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It is also not clear whether or not this further hiddenness is an aspect of the original hiddenness or a new and separate hiddenness.

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Perhaps the boy told to move the hidden moustaches to their new safe house or houses was inspired by their secret history and hid them.

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Much about the hidden moustaches, such as whose face or faces they once graced, or are in the future intended to grace, remains mysterious.


We may have been misinformed: it now transpires that the hidden moustaches could instead be in the horses. Please adjust accordingly.

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Our sources are unclear as to whether the hidden moustaches are in the horses or on the horses, though the latter seems counter-instinctual.

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Queries are reaching us as to whether the hidden moustaches might be made of horsehair, thus allowing them to be hidden in the horses.

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We must stress that the hidden nature of the hidden moustaches means that we can have no idea what material if any they may be made of.

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We could be surrounded – nay, immersed – in hidden moustaches at this moment, and our understanding is, so well are they hidden, we wouldn’t know.

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Queries are reaching us re whether our use of ‘nay’ was a hint that the hidden moustaches were definitely hidden in or on the horses. No.

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Please be aware: the proximity and/or scale of the hidden moustaches may interfere with our reception of both information and/or queries.

The Elsie & Nora dialogues, 4: The Orange Crate

– When I was a tiny girl I lived in an orange crate with Sputnik the Space Earwig and it told me the secrets of the stars.
– Did you really?
– No.
– Who really lived in the orange crate?
– Laika the Space Dog.
– Really.
– A terrier. But it downloaded Laika’s consciousness.
– Did it?
– No.
The terrier would never come out of the orange crate so one day I crawled in and it was conducting an entire choir of earwigs.
– Was it?
– No.
One day it was snowing and an orange glow came from the crate so I crawled in. The terrier snarled but the earwig welcomed me.
– Did it?
– No.
They had a lovely warm fire going made of the dried bodies of ants and were sipping hot Future Juice.
– No they didn’t and they weren’t.
– No.
I would curl up on a mat of matted curls the earwig had snipped away and listen to their tales of other worlds.
– But did you?
– No, I didn’t.

The Truth Machine

Every new president of Chimerica is given the Mammoth Bone Key to the Truth Machine. What is unprecedented is for Orange Hulk simply to swallow it.
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While officials wait for the Key to, um, re-emerge, the Ministry for Verification has been put on a 26 hour Emergency Verification working day.

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The Ministry for Correcting the Ministry for Verification has also been reinstated, though it is feared staff may themselves have been ‘corrected’.

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Until the successful acquisition of Space Honey, there are no funds to reestablish the Ministry for Correcting the Ministry for Corrections.

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Normally, each morning, the President is required to wheel a barrow of marrow into the Long Barrow to sacrifice to the Spine of the Nation.

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Inside the Long Barrow is believed to be (though, truthfully, no-one but the President ever sees it), the Truth Machine. It must be, delicately, wound up.

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The Machine has been wound up daily since before there were machines, Chimericas – or mammoths to remember either. It’s now been weeks…

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Given the lengthy constipation currently endured by Orange Hulk, the Privy Council have offered the services of the Lords and Ladies of the Stool.

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This office, which assisted their Chimeric Majesties in the movement of the royal bowels, lapsed with the accession of the Insect Dynasties.

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But a branch of the last family thus honoured maintains the accoutrements of the Office of the Stool: the Silken Wipe, the Golden Pencil…

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The Mammoth Key might be retrieved by the insertion of rectal nanobots, devised by the Office of the Stool for emergencies of non-emergence.

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Orange Hulk’s reaction to the rectal nanobot suggestion was not good. This is the fifth time the Whited Sepulchre has been wrecked this month.

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While Orange Hulk strains to pass the Key, here are some key Mammoth Bone Key Facts: 1) The key is very sensitive to the truth as it remembers everything;

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2) The original Mammoth Bone Key was given to the Chimeric Queen 7000 years ago by Palaeopontiki, Emperor of the Moon Rats…

Avian Lactation

Is it time yet to talk about avian lactation? Our reporters lift the lid on the latest displacement crisis to hit Chimerica: crop milk!
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Crop milk is outed as a major ingredient in deadly Future Juice, Chimeric Times reporters reveal in this avian lactation exclusive!

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Disturbed time-travelling teenage squabs discovered in Dark Cages. They could be from any historical period. 

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A spokesthing from the Ministry of Time said earlier, ‘That’s the thing about pigeons – if they came from the future, how would we know?’

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The Crop Milk Scandal is spreading: reports are coming in that penguins and flamingos may also be involved! 

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Officials at the Kryptozoo, where the elephant prawns are fed on an exclusive diet of fresh flamingo, assure us there’s no contamination.

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Meanwhile at the Temple of the Angry Penguin God, worshippers have assembled in a tightly packed circle in the nave, and are slowly rotating

Annals of Chicken Horse Island, 1: The Vampire Squid Bell

The Vampire squid bell, tolling in the fathomless deeps of the Blood Sea

Every year a giant vampire squid is woven from wicker in an attempt to lure Doc Moreau to Chicken Horse Island and sacrifice him to the fire.
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As you approach the only navigable harbour on Chicken Horse Island from the sea, its horse-headed promontory is immediately identifiable…

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As you prepare to land your biplane or dirigible on Chicken Horse Island, the coastline’s resemblance to a chicken is obvious & distracting.

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It doesn’t help that as you try to steer your boat into harbour the entire population of Chicken Horse Island cluck n neigh upon the pier.

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Some are dressed as chickens, some as horses, some as a ragged amalgam of both. Many jab canes into the air with chicken heads on the ends.

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It doesn’t help that, as you try to land your plane, you suddenly realise that the runway is in the exact position of the chicken’s cloaca.

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Every year thousands of devotees cram onto Chicken Horse Island for the casting of a new Vampire Squid Bell, which is then thrown in the sea