Once upon a time in the far-east, in an indisputably real event, Rambunctious Rocketeers otherwise known as Russians and their dandy dancing drones allegedly declared disco on Underpaid Underwear Menders, peculiarly popular as Ukrainians, and their port cities. This was the fourth consecutive moonlit escapade, said some big words with unpronounceable names, as they peered from behind their Cyrillic certificates of authority.
As the Rocketeers continued their fiesta of fireworks, the Underwear Menders were left whispering, “Not again..!” for the umpteenth time. They had just finished replenishing their marred harbors when the nocturnal dance-off commenced yet again. Such a sight – the sparkle of skylights was more tragicomic than a Shakespeare play set to the Backstreet Boys soundtrack.
In the meantime, certain round bellied beings of the world fondly known as Global Gluttons, sat upright in their gilded girth. It appeared that their plates might remain clean and empty rather than clean and full due to this interesting turn of events. This was not because they had taken a sudden fancy to diets but rather for an entirely shocking reason – there was a shortage of grub, aptly termed as a “food security concern”. Who knew that the Rocketeers’ rocket rave would cast a shadow over couscous and caviar alike?
Now before you get hoodwinked by the humor, let’s add a drizzle of context here. The Underwear Menders’ ports were and remain the gateway for global grain. Their golden corn and waving wheat were responsible for giving many Gluttons the highs they needed, albeit of the wholesome sort. Yet, with the Rocketeers’ disco inferno still warming up, the current trend predictably hinted that bellies might go empty and the global stockpile might run low.
As we approach the end of our parody parade, a message to the Rocketeers: “Dear mates, fireworks are great. But remember, this is no New Year’s Eve, and drone disco isn’t everyone’s cup of tea”. To the Underwear Menders and the Global Gluttons: “Hang in there. Amidst the cacophony of this cosmic comedy, never forget the timeless wisdom of the bard: ‘All’s well that ends well’. Or in this case, all’s well that ends with a full meal and a belly rub”. So here’s hoping the grain grows, bellies glow and world peace crowns this comic row. Happy endings, after all, are always in vogue.
