Episode 3
On Sunday morning, Salvini and Ferrotti families began with the Blue Mass. In reality they had no desire to go there, but the Blue Government had to pay support to Catholic Church of Berlüscaland, namely the card. Ruvini. Therefore, the Blue Card, which was essential for many professions, and recommended for all, had a space for stamps to participate in obligation Masses. In berlüscaland, the absence of too many stamps was like cutting balls by themself.
Churches, which before Blue Government were increasingly empty, had been filling up again after first dismissals and other persecutions, so that the priests had to return to three, sometimes four, Sunday morning rites.
The two friends families were using to go to the second celebration of the church of their neighborhood, Cascame, generally less crowded. At first, at dawn, usually participated those who could still afford the Sunday trip with petrol to 3.52 € per liter, and one had anger to stay close them, when his dream was a little more protein for children. Last rite was for the few of the High People who went there as parade, and for the many social climbers who aspired to be seen by them.
Giuseppe Salvini, according to the typical practice of subjects of each regime, defended his liberty by adopting an robot outward behaviour, making the gestures appropriate to each step of the rite without awareness, instead dedicated to his thoughts, fantasies and interests.
He recovered awareness of what happened in the church only in two moments: when priest was reading the Bible and at sermon, to compare them.
The Episcopal Conference of Berlüscaland had not yet had the impudence to change the Bible, being it too popular in hooses why people would not notice. It therefore opted for the excerpt of sentences more embarrassing the regime. It was one of the national games find omissions. By not having to remove almost all, what remained was evirated, distorted and turned into its opposite in the priest’s preaches.
Giuseppe precisely enjoyed himself to detect the practice, which sometimes succeeded so badly to blow laughter from the assembly, if it had not been made up by zombies. Giuseppe, perhaps the only aware, had to struggle not to burst out.
“For a shit ICI, an height per thousand1, a church full of zombies, they have betrayed the God of our fathers, for a Filthy God. The god that protects the rich and harasses the poor, the Swiss god, in other words, what gives rains to swamps and makes red-hot deserts, which gives luck at the rich and adds misfortunes to widow and orphan. The new god of Ruvini and Ratzinga.”
Often Giuseppe enjoyed himself during rites to draw up his irreverent theology, and had good reason to think that other obliged persons were doing the same, though perhaps with less science. Of course, the High People and the VIP Classes were exempted, too committed to supporting country economy in Sunday morning. The truth is that the churches were full of people completely indifferent.
“What failed to eradicate the Marxist atheism, have managed Ruvini and berlüsca.”
Once he had noticed in the crowd a Moroccan, misadventures companion of commuting on the local railroad to Milan, increasingly devastated. Born in Italy with citizenship, obtained before the Blue Government, Giuseppe knew him as fervent Islamic. Founding him later on the train, without witnesses, asked him the reason for conversion. Seen around, the Moroccan muttered:
«I would have lifted work and citizenship. So, Allah or God berlüsca, is the same farce.»
When God wanted – Giuseppe tittered at expression, in fact was the priest to decide when stop, and always when everyone, including the faithful few, would have smashed testicles, because the priests had never learned to quit when people still funs – the rite ended and the people queued for the precious stamp on the card, other fifteen minutes of breaking balls, still less, however, that at the next rite.
When they were finally free, said in ironic sense, Paolo and Giuseppe switched on again mobile phones. Almost immediately they began to ring. Both had first to explain to a voice extremely annoyed why they had off-putting – «I was at Mass!», «Ah, well, this time let’s go.» – then received the immediate convening by Blue Podestà2.
The mayors still existed in Blue Age, elected in single list, but counted as the two of spades in briscola when the game is hearts. Who gave the orders was the government Plenipotentiary, which had in himself the Police Commissioner, the Carabinieri station chief, the local magistrates. Not finding a better name, discarded Ras or Gauleiter for obvious reasons, was brushed up the term used in another Ventennio3.
Salvini and Ferrotti arrived at the City Hall intentionally separately. The first was brought by a uniformed usher in the council chamber, while Ferrotti was sit in a soundproof room. Giuseppe found himself in a salon completely emptied by benches and seats. At the bottom, on a platform, as a pedestal, a huge mahogany desk with a bald little fellow seated behind. As Giuseppe Salvini approached, his feeling was that the desk became increasingly impressive and, conversely, himself increasingly small.
He learned later that effect had been achieved by giving a slight slope to the floor that brought him down compared to wooden catafalque, banked at the bottom of the room.
In front of the desk there was a chair, but little fellow didn’t make mention of sitting. In Blue Age a subject will soon learned not to take liberties with the authorities. The little man was the Podestà of Vigevano, one of the court of berlüsca, fallen into disgrace as they were rumblings, and banished for punishment out of the tour, and for this reason even more nasty. He had before him, on the otherwise empty desk, a large file. Giuseppe remained standing in silence without greeting, because it was not welcomed opening mouth first with the authorities, even to be well-mannered.
It could be his dossier, thought Giuseppe, but also a folder of papers that do not absolutely concerned himself, just to impress.
«I see that we are moving toward the level of debts by serant of glebe, Salvini.» – he said it without greetings, with cold tone of warning threatening. The definition was not official, on the contrary was strictly forbidden, but certainly not to Authority.
«I never missed a single installment, Your Eminence.» – that was title being up to a Podestà of a town that didn’t province – «If I were not forced to buy again, I could extinguish them.»
«And the production? Where would end production without demand?»
He could answer that in the Free Market prices have dropped, or alternatively that production would go fucking itself, but did not want to be standing on the shooting, therefore said:
«Fagnini, my householder, broasts publicly not doing the obligatory shopping.»
The Podesta turned some cards, stopping on a sheet.
«Don Fagnini, meanwhile. It’s the title that lies at his level, according to the Blue Decree Carthusian Villa4/127.»
«Excuse me, Your Eminence, it was released recently, I haven’t yet made the reflex.»
He wanted to add that, being covered for lower classes by the State Secret the income of High People and the VIP Class, it was difficult to know what it was entitled to each according to B.D.C.V./127.
«Badly, very badly. Salvini, remember that the Decree on Blue Shopping does not apply to the High People and to VIP Class. Don’t be smart.» – a break to browse the cards – «As don’t be smart with an installment from 10 €.» – he laid the paper and beated his hand.
In fact it was perfectly legal, but useless to underline.
«You are hostile to us, Salvini.» – tone of dark resentment.
“I would like to see how could love you!” – thought Giuseppe, remaining impassive.
«We pick out you. When you’ll be serf, we’ll fold you. Go for now.» – for now was said with great emphasis.
Giuseppe remembered the prescribed light bow of the head, then turned and started toward the exit. He had almost come there when Podestà called him.
«Salvini!» – break waiting he turns back – «Remember never to stop for the first to applaud our Loved Anointed of the Lord.»
He made a mention to leave with his hand.
“He was Apicella, through broadcasting, fucked son of a syphilitic slut!” – vented Giuseppe inwards anger – “They have put it in your ass and you make the boaster with us. How are you with a big cock in the ass?”
Outside the hall, a messenger in uniform ordered him to leave the City Hall as soon as possible.
The asshole son of fucked syphilitic slut, in disgrace to Blue Age Nomenclature, shortly the regime, gofucked to everyone, including the Anointed and the Lord, the swine god of Ruvini, he was no longer entitled to two big gorillas of bodygards, by a quintal for 2 meters high, but only to messenger in uniform. Giuseppe Salvini would wait for his friend, but had better obey. He would expect him along the road to Cascame, slowing. Therefore he wasn’t anymore hungry.
1Fiscal favours granted to Church by Berlüsca.
2Greatest city position during Fascism.
3Twenty years period of old Fascism.
4Villa Certosa, one of Berlüsca many property.
