The Banned Game

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Lanolin

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Godmama Lanolin had programmed the Lanovision to show soothing scenes of underwater kelp forest and webcams of baby kiwis at night time, hunting for huhu grubs and panovision scenic shots of glowworms. If viewers waited long enough, they would see the southern lights, then the dawn of the sunrise and faint matariki stars.
Then when it was day time clouds and blue sky. Sometimes she made it rain and there would be rainbows.

No other programs were secheduled to broadcast. She had canned the Dame Edna Everest experience as viewers were increasingly bored by the politics of it.
 

Lanolin

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Aunty Rachel sorted through her former husbands playlist and put together an easy listening one. His gravelly voice soon came over the speakers

We are sailing, we are sailing...stormy waters, across the sea

It was the one good thing he left me, she sighed.
Whaea Hines heart went out to her. Im sorry for judging you as a blonde bimbo she said. I didnt know he broke your heart.

I dont want to talk about it...how you broke my heart

The baritone continued. Aunty Rachel was a sopping mess. No hanky was dry in the Beehive.
 

jennymae

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Ms Jenny had finally gotten rid of the captains and sent them back home. There was a manhunt when they were missing, but Captain Biden told them that he’d gotten lost in the White House, and nobody doubted it. Captain Trump said he had been busy writing an angry letter to the DOJ. Nobody doubted that either.

Ms Jenny tried to call Ms Ruby, but she didn’t pick up the phone. Maybe she was absent? Suddenly her phone was ringing. Unknown caller. She answered. “Who is this, and how do you know my number?” she said with the empress voice. A male voice could be heard. “Are you the Empress of Jennymaesia?” The voice was undoubtedly the property of a man, but somehow it was a bit feminine, or sissy if you like. “Who wants to know?” she was quickly losing her patience. “Erm…I’m calling about your makeup collection…”, the voice responded in a girly accent. Ms Jenny giggled involuntarily. “Oh really, how so?” “…Mmm…I had to give my collection up yesterday because a lady who was brought here had to freshen her self up.” Now she could tell that the accent was Mosestarian, but it wasn’t the Chieftain. “What was she looking like?” Ms Jenny asked curiously. The voice paused for a second. “Well, she was incredibly beautiful, long hair, ruby red lips, but in need of a hairbrush and some makeup…etc”.

It had to be Ms Ruby. Of course, that made perfectly sense. She had been taken to Mosestaria. “Ehm…what about the makeup?” the voice wondered. “Tell you what”, Ms Jenny suggested, “why don’t you come over here to Jennymaesia and I will personally give you a full makeover?” Silently she added that she would extract every piece of intel available on the mysterious lady once the makeover was finished. She had once learned from a Jesuit priest that it couldn’t be regarded lying if she just said what she intended to do even though it was too low to be heard. If memory served her correctly he called it Reservatio Mentalis…but she wasn’t sure about that. The man on the other end was delighted and would come to Jennymaesia instantly.
 

Lanolin

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Miraculously when Aunty Rachel wiped her tears her mascara stayed on and her eyes stayed clear. It must have been the magic Rubyland mascara that didnt run.
It was just her hair and everything else was rather messy. It was pulled too tight in a pony tail but she had to keep it tied back or the Bulimibaby machines might catch it and then it would be all over.

I dont think we can keep this baby, said Aunty Rachel. It would be cruel for a babe to be born free and kept captive to Lanolinland. I think we should return to Rubyland and complete the Tour of Beauty and ask at the same time who's baby it is. Maybe the baby will trigger Empress Ruby's memory.

Any word from the Dad?

Whaea Hine checked her inbox. Nothing, Nada. Zilch. She said.

Will we have to wait until Christmas?
GodMama Lanolin said she had plenty of books to read to bubba while waiting. We must be patient. If the Dad loves his child, he will send for us.
 

Ruby123

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The three clones left the Empress and returned home to the Headquarters of Mosestaria. On the trip back, the sissy clone was not happy that he parted with some watermelon lip gloss. It was his favourite and he needed to get some more. He rang the phone number on the product and as it was part of the Jennymaesian makeup empire he spoke to the empress herself. It was after hours and as all staff had gone home for the night, the calls were put through to the Empress's personal mobile number. He seemed satisfied with his phone call with her and well pleased that she had invited him for a personal makeover. How was he going to explain his departure to his fellow brothers and worse the Chieftan.

Empress Ruby now alone wondered why the clones were being nice to her as the chieftan couldn't stand her guts and she thought the clones were supposed to follow suit. She had now gained some strength and ventured out of the cave. She gathered sticks for her nightly campfire and walked further away from the cave than she had ever done before. It wasn't long before she came across a beautiful lake with its own waterfall. She had never seen something so beautiful in her life and the water looked too inviting to say no. She walked into the water and it was surprisingly warm. A feeling of great peace came over her. Her former life of being an Empress no longer interested her. Being out in nature seemed so much better.

As she was enjoying the water in the corner of the lake was bubbling mud. The mud was fairly warm. It seemed to be some sort of natural mud spring. She sat in her mud spring and looked around. She saw several fruit trees. There was mango, orange, peach and even a coconut tree.

"Wow she thought. This place is just magnificent. Such beauty and everything provided. A place of absolute peace. It could not get any better"

It suddenly struck her. This place reminded her of the Garden of Eden. A place of peace, one where everything one could possibly want was provided. She saw an apple tree to the right of her. She shuddered and decided when she finally came out of the water she would chop that tree down. She knew how that story ended and wanted no part with that tree.
 

jennymae

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The sissy clone went to see the Chieftain. “Requesting leave of absence, Sir.” he said as masculine he was able to. The Chieftain hardly looked at him. “This is Antarctica, where would you go?” The sissy clone hesitated for a split second. “I’m gonna visit my mama, Sir.” he thought to himself that was a good one. A grim smile appeared on the Chieftain’s face. “You’re a clone, you don’t have a mama”, the Chieftain then said. “You’re basically like Eve in the Garden of Eden.” Once this was said out loud the Chieftain started thinking. Was not the clone standing before him a little bit on the feminine side? Where would a feminine guy travel? Not to Rubyland because Ms Ruby was safely deposited in Mosestaria. Of course, the sneaky Ms Jenny must have had convinced him to go to Jennymaesia. Yeah, the makeup stuff. He’d given all his makeup to Ms Ruby. Ms Jenny probably had offered him some new stuff. Surely to get intel. Well, two could play that game. “Sure, you’ll get one week of absence to get some rest. I’ll make sure you’ll be on the flight tomorrow to Buenos Aires. From there you’re on your own. The sissy clone almost made a feminine outburst, but managed to control himself.

He made it to Jennymaesia and was picked up by a limo at the airport. Ms Jenny herself waited for him in the backseat. Finally she could relax in a backseat together with a stranger. This one would not be hitting on her. She offered him a glass of Chablis. The ride went nice and smooth. Tomorrow was makeover day.
 

Lanolin

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Godmama Lanolin picked up the baby board book she had borrowed from the library. Finally shed managed to find a copy, but in baby edition only, of the fairy tale Beauty Vs the Beast. She settled down beside bubba in the crib.

Once upon a time, in a far away land lived a beautiful little red haired Empress named Jennymae....
 

jennymae

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Ms Jenny needed a stool to reach all the way up to the sissy clone’s face. Would be more than a challenge to make this sissy clone to actually look like a sissy. His masculine features were rather dominant, to be honest. Why bother, she said to herself. “Look, you sure you wanna go through with this?” she asked him. “You ain’t exactly got anything to work with femininely speaking. Why don’t you just stay masculine?”

The sissy clone rolled his eyes. “You promised me!” Ms Jenny sighed. “Yeah, I know, but it’ll take more than a makeover to make you look feminine.”

Ms Jenny grew weary of him. She made her servant bring in the elixir of truth. “Here, drink this, it’ll make you more aware of your feminine mind”, she told him. He emptied the glass without hesitation. She waited for ten minutes. “Now, Mr Clone, bring me the good news.” The clone spilled his guts and before long she knew everything. Unfortunately so did the Chieftain. Suddenly the clone grabbed her and almost broke her arm. The evil laughter could only mean one thing. It wasn’t the sissy clone, but the Chieftain himself. “How did you know?” she said perplexed.
 

Moses_Young

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"Know what?" asked the Chieftain. His thoughts had become rather scatterbrained the past 24 hours or so. He was even despairing of himself, considering how low he had sunk during the period. What had happened? How could he have become so... effeminate? "Perhaps there had been some sort of accident, like happened early on with poor Eagle Two", he wondered aloud... "No, impossible, it would have been picked up sooner..."

Ms Jenny tensed her muscles, and broke the Chieftain's grip rather easily. Despite the problems he was experiencing, the Chieftain was still somewhat embarrassed. Beaten by a girl? This would not go down well in the Annals of Mosestaria. Perhaps it would be better to be killed... even by an empress such as Ms Jenny... than to dishonour his people by continuing to live as Chieftain in such a shameful way?

The thoughts of shame made him recall Captain Biden, and an event that had happened several evenings prior...

While out in the Cafe Antarctica entertaining one particular valued guest, the Chieftain had experienced certain issues with a duo of captains who were also in attendance. The first captain was living in a parallel universe, where the sniffing of a female's hair was considered good etiquette and "the done thing" for captains in public. While trying to maintain the separation between everyone elses' universe and Captain Biden's parallel universe, the Chieftain had, last second, encountered the second Captain's peculiar vice - his wandering hands as they ventured beyond the limits of diplomatic immunity. The Chieftain's intention had been to crush the offending hand under the table, before it could reach the person of his valued guest. But before he could enact the complete pulverisation of the offending hand, he had felt a stabbing pain in his hand...

At the time, the Chieftain had attributed the sharp pain to a particularly venomous species of Antarctic mosquito, but he now realised what it was - an surreptitious injection of oestrogen. Captain Trump, clearly realising the penalty for his attempted violation of a Mosestarian visiting VIP, had injected the noble Chieftain with a hormone to bring out his more feminine side - to replace his deep-seated values of logic, justice and suitable punishment with other values less deep-seated, such as emotion, mercy and forgiveness. It had certainly worked for Captain Trump, who had visited the Amazones with one more functional hand than he deserved.

"Look, Ms Jenny," explained the Chieftain, emphasising his use of the word "miz" in order to try to demonstrate a somewhat repentant attitude toward his previous chauvinism, "There has been a horrible mistake. I don't feel like half the man I was when we departed on such friendly terms the other evening..."

Ms Jenny made a disgusted face. "Sissy clone or not, I think you have some serious issues. Problems that we are unable... or unwilling... to resolve here in civilised Jennymaesia. I believe the only place that you can be cured from your... problems..... is Lanolinland..... According to the propaganda, Lanolinland welcome such types as yours there..."

The Chieftain's mouth dropped open a little... "Perhaps you could reconsider, Ms Jenny? A short, low-key execution, perhaps? I'm not so keen to beg, but I have my country's reputation to uphold, in addition to my own to restore?"

While he awaited Ms Jenny's response, the Chieftain was starting to think more clearly, and using less haphazard thought processes. With a sigh of relief, he realised that the effects of the Trump toxin were slowly wearing off...
 

Lanolin

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Whaea Hine started knitting some booties for the baby. The winters can be chilly in Lanolinland so she was knitting quite fast. She had them. finished in under 2 hours.

Aunty Rachel tried her hand at crocheting a beanie, but she was hopeless. She decided to wait till the baby had hair, and then style it

Godmama Lanolin made roaring noises to simulate the crocs going after Empress Jennymae in the fairy tale 'ROAR! We'll eat you up, we love you so!' The baby's eyes lit up, and it seemed bub was smiling.

You like this story? Well there more stories where that came from. The next book on the shelf was the Beginner's Bible.
 

Lanolin

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Aunty Rachel picked some more easy listening songs to listen to while she folded baby clothes

She found Yesterday and the tune came over the speakers

Suddenly Im not half the man I used to be
Theres a shadow hanging over me
Oh yesterday came suddenly

Why she had to go I dont know she wouldnt say...


Aunty Rachel sighed again. I should have married...Paul McCartney

Whaea Greenlips Hine thought Rachels music selections were rather depressing for bubba. Ms Hunter you have got to get over your groupie rock star infatuations. Babies dont want to listen to some aging rock stars crapping on about their failed love lives.

Here, I'll teach you One Day a Taniwha
 

Moses_Young

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Eagle Two hadn't stopped whining to his brothers since the return flight to Antarctica - Mosestarian Sector Headquarters a.k.a. the hidden, secret Antarctic Fortress.

"I can't believe she called me a sissy!" he complained. "I gave her her favourite lipstick, ruby-red - watermelon flavour - and she called me a sissy."

"Yeah, women hate when you're nice to them," Eagle Three explained. "If you want them to respect you, you've got to be mean."

"Or stupid," Eagle One added, helpfully.

"Yes", agreed Eagle Three. "Mean, or stupid. Preferably both. They love that."

"That's why our Great Chieftain is so beloved by women all over the world," continued Eagle Three. "He is very mean."

"What, to all of them?" asked Eagle Two.

"No, just in general," Eagle Three explained. "He's a very busy Chieftain. He doesn't have time to be mean to every single woman, all of the time, so he just tries to be a little chauvinistic. But with manners. Just because one is a chauvinist, doesn't mean one can't have manners. And obviously, he can't be stupid. He has the finest criminal mind since Bobby Kennedy decided to force NASA's hand by announcing he was going to the moon, so he is somewhat restricted in that department."

"But he got assassinated," protested Eagle Two.

"Yes. Obviously, someone got jealous. If one is too mean, one is going to get assassinated, so one must get the balance just right..." Eagle Three noted.

Eagle Two rolled his eyes. "This is not helping! And now the Jennymaesian president is referring to me as a sissy, also."

"Your reputation is destroyed," agreed Eagle One. "You've got to do something to repair it. First, you've got to stop eating that stupid watermelon lipstick. Try Wonka's watermelon-flavoured Nerds, if you must. Or perhaps even a real watermelon. But leave the lipstick for the ladies."

"But I like the feel of the lipstick on my lips," protested Eagle Two.

Eagle Three made a buzzing noise. "Wrong answer. That's the answer a sissy would give," he explained.

"I think you should wrestle Ruby's Pizza Empire back from the Incredible Tommy," Eagle One recommended. "If there's one way to show the world one is not a sissy, it is to take on an incredible Tommy, and wrestle a Pizza Empire from him."

"Well, I have always wanted to own a Pizza Empire," Eagle Two admitted.

"You're not supposed to keep the empire," Eagle One explained. "You're supposed to give it back to Ruby."

"Well, that seems nice. But I thought if one wanted to be respected by women, one has to be mean?" queried Eagle Two.

"No, no, no, no no!" explained Eagle Three. "This has nothing to do with being mean, and everything to do with being stupid. Remember, they respect that also."

"Ah," noted Eagle Two, beginning to understand this game. "But the latest from the International Spy Vision is that Ruby doesn't even want to be an empress anymore. She just wants to cut that stupid apple tree down..."

Eagle Three's eyes narrowed. "Then winning back her pizza empire would not only count as stupid, requiring her to return to her role as Empress over it again would also count as mean!" he exclaimed excitedly.

Eagle One nodded. "The ultimate mix of mean and stupid."

"And then we could transplant an orchard of apple trees adjacent to the naturally heated mud pool, by the cave?" asked Eagle Two. "And make out we're doing it because we saw that she liked the fruit trees."

The clones began to rub their hands together in malicious glee. So many schemes, so little time. Although this business of jetting back and forth between Antarctica and Rubyland or Jennymaesia was making them all very dizzy, they were earning plenty of frequent flyer points.
 

Lanolin

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It was time for a stroll. The day was bright and clear and bub was wearing the new specially knitted booties, AND beanie so Whaea Hine got the baby buggie out to go for a walk.

Aunty Rachel put on her exercise gear and said she was coming too because she was the 'yummy mummy' and needed to feel the wind in her long blonde hair and stop traffic.

Godmama Lanolin had to stay behind to look after the Beehive. She gave them some food to feed the ducks.

Have fun she said.

She turned her attention to the business at hand. The Lanolinlanders were still upset about the previous govts cackhanded attempts regarding a Mt Erebus memorial. If there was one thing it was blamed for, it was for allowing scenic flights to Antarctica controlled by faulty Eagle GPS, which had killed everyone on flight NZ901. Of course, nobody was now living in Antarctica to check the crash site at the volcano which was still a scene of carnage over 40 years later. And nobody in their right mind would fly there ever again either.

Except...

No. She dismissed the thought. It couldnt possibly be. Besides, Antarctica was supposedly 'Virgin Territory' whatver that meant. Nothing could sully it.

The webcam was showing the underwater kelp forest which was growing everyday at a rapid rate. More fish came to live in its nutrient rich waters. The garbage patch was shrinking. The sharks had done their job.

She had by now read 7 books and had earned her free pizza. The last one was a picture book by the Duchess called 'The Bench'. It was rather a bland story about her sons bench. A free copy had been sent to the Parliamentary Library, but she thought Beauty vs the Beast was a much more exciting picture book and deserved to be nominated for the annual Lanolinland Picture Book awards.
 

Lanolin

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Sir Peter Jackson was not happy with Hairy's perfomance. All he would do is look at the green screen and pout.
He decided that he would have to let Hairy go and employ somebody with REAl acting skills. Sir Peter out the casting call out again at the talent agency.

Queen A was waiting. Why was it taking so long?? She and Mrs Hairy were growing bored. Maybe they would have to bungee jump out of the sky tower.
 

Lanolin

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Rachel was jogging swiftly along the streets of Miramar when she saw a sign outside of a warehouse Casting Call for King Kong 2.
Curious, she poked her head round and gave her name to the receptionst. The receptionist gasped and made a quick call. Its Rachel Hunter! from the Pantene and Trumpet Commericial. In the flesh!

After a few moments she said the director will see you now.
Rachel flashed her white teeth and considered flashing other parts of her body but restricted herself to doing her classic blonde hair toss again. She hoped the part would include a wind machine.

Sir Peter looked her up and down. You're all wrong for the part. We need a gorilla or at least someone from the ape family.

Oh I can get you a gorilla no problem, said Rachel. But could I please have a walk on part just to make it worth your while?

Sir Peter considered. Hmm maybe you can play the King's concubine. Or the hairdresser. Didnt you do a shampoo commercial?

Please no more catchphrases. I dont want to spend the rest of my life hearing people say I cant Beat a trumpet or it wont happen overnight but it will happen.

Bring me the gorilla first and we'll talk.
 

Moses_Young

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"Oh, you meant, how did I know you were trying to lure Eagle Two to Jennymaesia to turn his life into one of despair and depravity?" the Chieftain answered Miss Jenny's original question with a question, after an unnaturally long pause.

"Elementary, my dear Miss Jenny," he smiled at the empress. The Chieftain could feel that the temporary effects of the Trump toxin on him had now totally worn off, but the shock at seeing the behavioural changes the toxin had induced in him had not yet worn off Miss Jenny.

Quickly, the Great Chieftain remembered his well-oiled war machine, at the ready in Mosestaria, ready to strike at his mere command. He shed a single, solitary tear at the thought of those poor Rubyland peacekeepers, hopelessly outnumbered, without their Jennymaesian comrades to provide them the additional firepower that would be required to quell any populist uprising - or perhaps it was a tear of joy at the thought of the Return of Mosestaria the Great?

Moses the Younger - may his beard be ever pointy and sharp - quickly sent a text message to his loyal cousin Mordecai, and the Japovian warrioress Tzipora, who was also pretty impressive, in her own way.

The message read "We must strike while the iron is hot - for Chief and Chiefdom..." The three dots after Chiefdom were quite critical, as the message was part of a pre-arranged code, which couldn't be discussed prior to this episode for fear of spies and enemy counter-moves.

The expulsion of the Rubyland troops from Mosestaria was a very quick and almost painless exercise. Certainly, it was painless for Mosestarians, but the Rubylanders are in general a pretty weak bunch, and they will complain if the pepperoni on their pizzas is too spicy, or the watermelon flavour in their lipstick is too sour, so probably it wasn't entirely painless for Rubyland. Almost immediately, the Lanolinland Propaganda machine kicked into gear, trying to distract the general populace from such a catastrophic defeat and the return of Mosestaria to Mosestarians, with a sitcom about a gorilla and somebody called Rachel Hunter - or was Rachel Hunter the gorilla? The Chieftain couldn't remember, and didn't dare to ask anyone for fear it would be presumed he was a fan of the show.

Then, leaving a small box of milk chocolates and a rather insulting note for when Miss Jenny came out of her stupor, a beautiful bouquet of roses handpicked from the finest flowers in the Empress's own garden, and a tweaking of one of Miss Jenny's personal bodyguard's mustaches, the Chieftain was on-board the first helicopter back to his secret Antarctic Fortress.
 

Lanolin

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Godmama Lanolin saw something in the webcam. It was floating near the great Southern Ocean current coming from Antarctica. Frozen pizza boxes, and again empty red bull cans. Cheese wrappers.
Shaving cream bottles. Coffee cups.

Some slob is living in Antarctica! Disgusting! She thought.
I will call the Jacques Costeau society and get them on to this. They will evict whoever is living there making a mess and teach them an eco-lesson.
 

Lanolin

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Rachel got in contact with her Lowland Gorilla Foundation of which she was founder of.
Can you send one to Wellywood? Your most handsome specimen?

Oh ok. Well how about Sir Peter come to you instead and film on location?

Sure, I'll arrange it. He promised to get me in the shot I'll just be jogging through.

Ms Hunter was pleased with herself. She got back to the Beehive had a shower and changed into fresh clothes.

Whaea Greenlips Hine was not pleased however. Where did you go? You just ran off. Besides bubs nappies needs changing and its your turn.
 

Lanolin

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Godmama Lanolin was concerned about Empress Ruby. It was only a matter of time until the Baroness would take over with Santa Claus and set up Evereverland in former Mosestaria but she had heard Empress relationship with the Hulk had gone south and she was not coping. She had gone walkabout in the outback but it was always dangerous to live in the dreamtime forever.

Empress Jennymae had her hands full of blusher and lipstick and could only do so much ruling even though she had half of Rubyland.

Godmama Lanolin composed an email invite to Empress Ruby inviting her to be the treasurer of her new Babysitters Club.
She could also find work in Hells Pizza which was now nationwide in Lanolinland and give out free pizzas to readers. Their freshly made and fired pizza was so much better than the frozen schlock coming out of Coles sourced from Pizza huts Pizza warehouse factory.

Empress Ruby would just need to apply for a visa for a working holiday but she was sure it could be expedited soon.
 

Moses_Young

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Marxist McGown was the Reigning Premier of the district in which the Incredible Tommy's Pizza Empire was located. He was quite a contemptible character, hailing from a land entirely peopled with criminals, and marred by a strange and obnoxious growth protruding from his forehead. There were some who claimed the elongated growth was actually an appendage, but the prevalent theory of the day was that the growth was actually a separate entity, and Marxist was simply a parasite living off this creature's goodwill and blood supply.

It was Marxist's buddy at the local clinic who had first "discovered" Mosestarian Malady in one of his patients at the clinic, and it was some of Marxist's other buddies at the local newspaper and TV station who had expeditiously warned the local population continuously around the clock, all day, every day, for weeks and months and years on end about the dangerous malady. In the early stages, the four accomplices had wanted to name the disease after Marxist himself, and call it McGown's Misery, or Marxist's Malady, but after much debate, they decided they didn't want any more negative publicity for Marxist, so named the disease after a more convenient scape-goat - Mosestaria.

Marxist's buddy at the local clinic had not been a very successful clinician, despite 20 years in the business. Part of the reason for his failure was that he insisted on mixing his professional life with his private life, and his private life involved an unfortunate hobby - the "milking" of snakes for their oil. Marxist's clinician buddy would milk all manner of snakes, and then endeavour to find some means or method of prescribing said oil for his patients. The more fortunate patients, after trialing the snake oil, would find that it didn't actually assist with their ailments, so would seek medical assistance elsewhere. The less fortunate patients would end up dead, or permanently disabled. Suffice it to say, Marxist's clinician buddy had a failing business model, and a burgeoning supply of snake oil.

One day, circumstances came to a head for Marxist's clinician buddy when one of his less fortunate patients, who was also a lawyer, put two and two together and threatened to sue the clinician for poisoning him, and general medical malpractice. Although a poor clinician, Marxist's clinician buddy wasn't too bad of a salesman, and came up with a plausible excuse - the lawyer had been infected with a mysterious malady - some sort of invisible virus, perhaps? A court case was averted, and Mosestarian Malady was born. Of course, from humble beginnings, the Mosestarian Malady saga had evolved and expanded.

"If the malady was spread by Mosestarians, how could it be stopped?" Marxist's clinician buddy had once asked the other accomplices at one of their regular meetings.

"Why, by banning Mosestarians of course!" the others had answered.

"But how to ban Mosestarians without being racist?" the newspaper buddy had asked.

"It's not about race, it's about the passport," the television buddy insisted. "Once one has obtained an 'I'm-Not-Mosestarian passport', the malady wouldn't dare to infect one anymore. Even Mosestarians could apply."

"But how to prevent Mosestarians from obtaining a passport," the newspaper buddy asked.

This was where Marxist's clinician buddy's genius had come into play. "Make them prove they're not Mosestarian by taking a dose of snake oil in the left cheek!" he had exclaimed enthusiastically. When he saw that the other accomplices didn't reject his disgusting suggestion outright, he continued "Or three! No Mosestarian in his right mind would bare his breeches for three of these little beauties," he continued, gesturing to a wall replete with the loaded syringes of his snake oil.

The other accomplices nodded. "Excellent!" exclaimed Marxist. "I will declare a State of Emergency because of Mosestarian Malady, and proclaim a new law - no one can do anything - not even work - unless he has an I'm-Not-Mosestarian passport!"

"But what if they all just ignore your new law?" warned Maxist's clinician buddy. "There are some who already call you spiteful names because of your... disability," he finished, gesturing in the direction of Marxist's host organism, without looking directly at it. "You don't want them to start saying 'we told you so', and 'he's an even bigger one than we first said', and such..."

"If they ignore my new laws," warned Marxist darkly, "I will include a clause to have them thrown to the alligators!"

Such was the world the three clones - Eagle One, Eagle Two and Eagle Three found themselves entering again, as they arrived in Rubyland on a quest to wrestle the Incredible Tommy's Pizza Empire from the pale, green grip of the Incredible Tommy's muscular hands...