I do not own any of the internet personalities or memes presented in this story.
The Internet Police: Year in Review
Arcadia, Part 1
Since the advent of airplanes at the dawn of the 20th century and the World Wide Web during the last years of the 20th century, humanity has become much more interconnected. Of course, there were some who wanted no part of this post-industrial world. The extent of their isolation varies between every individual or group. One of the most well-known was the Amish. The Amish were a congregation of Anabaptists (Christians who practiced baptism at an adult age) who fled Europe to escape persecution. They eventually settled in what is now America during the early 18th century, and overtime, they became estranged from the outside world due to the rapid technological advancements that occurred since the 18th century. It is a common misconception that the Amish has shunned all uses of electricity and other modern gadgets like the telephone and the automobile. In truth, most Amish are familiar with these technologies, such as using a telephone to conduct business or accepting rides within a car for traveling purposes. On the other hand, the Amish only use these conveniences sparingly and to a much lesser degree than most Americans. And one of these Americans who couldn't live life like an Amish was Jennxpenn. Trapped on a mission with HurricaneAubrey in Holmes County, Ohio, Jennxpenn was trying to get an internet connection as she laid in a handmade bed while dressed up like a typical Amish woman.
"Why isn't there any internet out here?!" yelled Jennxpenn. "I want my daily dose of funny cats. And I can't see with no light bulbs. These gas lamps are useless."
"Quiet," said HurricaneAubrey in the dining room. "I'm trying to figure out how Mr. Saul is conducting these pranks on the Amish."
"Remind me again why we are here, and how is it worth it to abandon all our modern conveniences to live like the Amish," said Jennxpenn.
HurricaneAubrey understood that Jennxpenn knew the answer to why they were here and why they needed to blend in with the Amish. But knowing how Jennxpenn was trying to get her reprimanded by the Chief and all the other Internet Police agents, HurricaneAubrey decided to give a civilized response.
"I believe you know who Mr. Saul is, Jennxpenn," said HurricaneAubrey.
"He was a close friend of mine," said Jennxpenn, surprised that HurricaneAubrey wasn't angry for feigning ignorance about the mission. "We used to collaborate with each other on various YouTube videos. That was before what he did in Japan. I can tell you with all honesty that his acts were unacceptable and disgusting."
Jennxpenn and HurricaneAubrey knew about Mr. Saul's reprehensible behavior in Japan. They thought it would be best not to go into further detail.
"After the PR disaster from his Japanese trip, Mr. Saul, the despicable prankster that he is, decided to lay low for a while. After his fifteen minutes of infamy ended, our sources tell us that he has secretly infiltrated the Amish settlement of Arcadia here in Ohio," explained HurricaneAubrey as she looked through the photographs she had secretly took while living amongst the Amish. "From what I photographed, Mr. Saul was able to somehow use a spray can to graffiti red paint onto the Amish buildings, and he did this without being detected. His stealth ability also enabled him to detach horses from their buggies and to kick down the doors of the Amish houses."
"And without the aid of security cameras or armed professional guards, the Amish stand no chance against this prankster wreaking havoc on their town," said Jennxpenn.
"But the most damaging prank of all is Mr. Saul taking pictures of the Amish without their permission," said HurricaneAubrey.
"Doesn't that make you a hypocrite since you were going around the town and taking pictures of the crime scenes," said Jennxpenn.
"Of course not," insisted HurricaneAubrey. "I only took the most relevant and necessary images from my portable device, none of which showed the individual faces of the Amish. The Amish believe that having their pictures taken up close is a sign of vanity and egotism, and because of this, I took every precaution to avoid personal photographs of the Amish during my investigation. When I asked the Amish elders if I could look for Mr. Saul in Arcadia, they agreed provided I integrated myself into their ways and followed their rules such as adhering to their dress code and avoid taking facial photos. Does that answer your questions, Jennxpenn?"
"Yeah. I guess so," said Jennxpenn as she took a selfie with her portable device. "How do we know that Mr. Saul is taking personal photographs? Like I said, I was a close friend of his. I would have recognized him in a heartbeat. He's not here."
"He's here, and he is taking the personal pictures," insisted HurricaneAubrey. "Eyewitnesses within Arcadia reported seeing flashes of light being directed towards their face followed by a clicking noise. Since no Amish indicated they saw an old-fashioned camera, the light and the clicking sound must have come from a portable electronic device that has multiple applications. I doubt that any Amish would care enough about these devices to learn about them. So that means that Mr. Saul is, like us, hiding among the Amish."
"I know Mr. Saul, and I doubt he would be willing to pretend to be Amish as a way of pulling off some cheap pranks," said Jennxpenn. "My guess is that he got an Amish boy or girl to do his dirty work while he is hiding in some modern hotel preparing for his latest viral video titled 'Pranks in the Amish Hood'. Whoever is taking the pictures isn't being very discrete considering he or she would capture embarrassing Amish faces while leaving the flash and clicker feature on. I believe that the perpetrator is an Amish boy or girl with little to no experience with portable electronic devices. Do you agree with my assessment, HurricaneAubrey?"
"I disagree entirely," said HurricaneAubrey. "I cannot believe that an Amish boy or girl would sell-out their entire community like that. It's unfathomable to me."
"Still the Georgie lover," snickered Jennxpenn.
Jennxpenn saw that her portable device recently found an internet signal, though the connection was faint and weak in the middle of Amish country. She searched for information regarding the Amish, and after browsing over a few pages, she came across the information she needed.
"When we're out of this primitive wasteland, please look up the term 'shunning' if you are thinking of admiring the Amish," said Jennxpenn. "I'm going to sleep and dream about relaxing in a jacuzzi."
With Jennxpenn asleep, HurricaneAubrey walked around the darkened room.
"Was an Amish boy or girl responsible for these pranks on the Amish town of Arcadia?" thought HurricaneAubrey. "What makes Jennxpenn so sure that it was an Amish child who did this? What if it was an Amish man or woman?"
HurricaneAubrey frowned at this assumption and modified what she had just thought.
"It isn't any Amish person at all. It is all Mr. Saul's doing. That curly haired scoundrel. He's the only one doing these pranks. All for internet views and sponsorships," said HurricaneAubrey. "We'll get him and put an end to this madness."
HurricaneAubrey went back to the dining table, and with the gas lamps providing minimal lighting, she looked over a sheet of paper that listed the names of all the Amish residents in Arcadia. Without warning, she fell asleep at the table.
"Wake up," said Jennxpenn as she tapped HurricaneAubrey on the shoulder.
HurricaneAubrey lifted her head from the table. She saw Jennxpenn already at the front door.
"Good thing I had my portable device to wake me up," said Jennxpenn as she held her electronic phone in her hand.
HurricaneAubrey frowned as she yawned and stretched her arms. She then noticed that something had been altered to the names of Arcadia's Amish inhabitants. A name was circled.
"Obadiah Fisher," read HurricaneAubrey.
Under the orange hue of the early morning, HurricaneAubrey and Jennxpenn were traveling on roller skates to the town center. To an outsider, it would seem unusual for modern roller skates to be associated with Amish women wearing plain blue dresses and white bonnets. But the Amish were adept in blending the old-fashioned with cutting-edge technology.
"Isn't it wonderful how the Amish can take the best of modern technology and excise the worst excesses of today's world," thought HurricaneAubrey as she admirably gazed upon the fields of wheat being harvested by horse-drawn plows. "For example, the Amish are into genetically engineered crops."
HurricaneAubrey saw the orange sky becoming bluer as she skated past a horse-drawn buggy. The couple driving the buggy gave HurricaneAubrey a friendly wave as she noticed that there was a loving family in the back.
"Maybe I want to join the Amish," thought HurricaneAubrey with a smile. Her smile then turned into a frown. "You want to abandon your whole life of modern conveniences to live like someone from the 1800s."
"Can't believe that our gas-powered refrigerator couldn't pump out ice," said Jennxpenn bitterly. "I would like to exchange it for an electric-powered refrigerator that could serve you ice-cold tequilas and allow you to set its temperature using a touch-screen."
"You're really a ray of sunshine," said HurricaneAubrey sarcastically. "At least we have a refrigerator. We could've been stuck with an ice box."
Jennxpenn then went on an incoherently rant on how she missed microwavable foods.
"I can give up my microwave for a chance of living amongst the Amish permanently," thought HurricaneAubrey. "But on the other hand, I'll have to give up much more than the microwave. I'll have to give up my television, my private car, my unique clothes, and the internet."
"If the Amish are looking for new recruits for their way of life, count me out," exclaimed Jennxpenn as HurricaneAubrey skated silently past Amish homes with solar panels on their roofs.
Reaching Arcadia's town center, the two undercover Internet Police agents were shopping for goods for Arcadia's barn-raising event. Since the barn-raising involved the entire community, it would be the perfect opportunity to search for the culprit behind the Arcadian pranks. Looking over baskets of Amish dolls (which lacked facial features), Jennxpenn and HurricaneAubrey found ingredients to making pies for the barn-raising crew.
"I think we got everything we needed," commented HurricaneAubrey. "Time to go to the construction zone."
HurricaneAubrey had her basket of pie-making ingredients filled to the brim. She started heading to the construction site when Jennxpenn was looking at the Amish dolls.
"They look really cute," said Jennxpenn as she picked up one of the female dolls.
"How does it feel?" asked HurricaneAubrey.
"Soft," said Jennxpenn. "I might get some after we complete this mission."
"Good to hear," said HurricaneAubrey sincerely.
"Though I would like to draw a face on these dolls. A smile would go a long way in maximizing their cuteness," said Jennxpenn as she placed the doll back into the basket.
"These dolls have no faces for the same reason the Amish don't have their pictures taken. It all has to do with vanity," said HurricaneAubrey. "To the Amish, dolls with faces create unrealistic expectations for human beauty, such as having no acne or having flawless lips. If Amish children saw how perfect these dolls are, then they will experience a psychological breakdown. They will lament the fact that the Amish community lack the proper equipment or facilities that would allow them to become as aesthetically pleasing as the dolls they owned. All in all, these dolls have the potential of wreaking havoc on the Amish community if they were made to have faces."
"Never knew that dolls could cause such trouble," said Jennxpenn. "One can only imagine if the internet would become widespread in Amish land. And it came in the form of Mr. Saul and his partner in crime Obadiah Fisher."
"Is that why you circled his name on the list?" asked HurricaneAubrey as she and Jennxpenn walked towards the field where the barn-raising would happen. "Do you have proof of this Amish teenager being Mr. Saul's apprentice?"
"I heard reports around town that Obadiah has been a bad apple since he reached puberty," said Jennxpenn. "When I was trying to sew a blanket through my bleeding hands, I overheard two Amish mothers complaining about Obadiah being a bad influence on their kids. While I was riding a bicycle, I overheard some Amish cyclists comment on Obadiah being nothing but trouble. And that's not getting into the rumors that he sneaks into 'English' towns to browse the internet for fun. Why does he need to go all the way to England for that?"
"English refers to any non-Amish folk according to the Amish," corrected HurricaneAubrey. "Anyway. I'm sure that Obadiah isn't responsible for these pranks. And even if he is, he's probably been blackmailed by Mr. Saul to do his bidding."
"He's doing it of his own free will," insisted Jennxpenn. "He wants to escape his oppressive Amish life and is collaborating with Mr. Saul as a way of leaving Arcadia. Obadiah's previous attempts of being disowned failed, and so, he's resorting to these pranks to finally convince the Amish to let him leave forever."
"I don't believe it," retorted HurricaneAubrey.
"Let's get to the barn-raising, and you'll see how the Amish pushed Obadiah over the edge," said Jennxpenn.
In the early 19th century America, the Amish felt more at home with their "English" neighbors. Their neighbors were also farmers like the Amish and lived the same austere life. In the late 19th century, the English in both Europe and America underwent a technological revolution that uprooted society entirely. This was the beginning of the schism between the Amish and the "English". One such break from the "English" came with how barn-raising occurred. In modern America, barns could be built with electrical tools and heavy machinery, which reduced the number of workers needed to complete the project. The days when the community would gather together for the labor-intensive task of raising a barn were gone. But the Amish shunned the conveniences of the modern world and kept the traditional barn-raising intact. At their unaltered barn-raisings, their laborers were not muscular construction workers or specialized engineers but ordinary men, women, and children. The men would deal with the actual construction of the barn. The women would cook the meals for the male laborers. And the children would assist in minor tasks like light lifting of materials. As women, Jennxpenn and HurricaneAubrey were assigned to cooking duties as they watched to see where the prankster would strike.
"I need more flour for the pies," said HurricaneAubrey as she was mixing ingredients together.
As the other Amish women helped her in preparing the pies, Jennxpenn was preoccupied with looking at the men pulling up the frame of the barn with ropes and pulleys.
"Aren't you going to help us make the pies?" asked HurricaneAubrey.
Jennxpenn leaned closer to HurricaneAubrey.
"Aren't you forgetting that we're on a mission to stop a prankster," whispered Jennxpenn.
"I know that," said HurricaneAubrey. "I'm looking for the prankster as well."
"Doesn't look like it considering how devoted you are in making the best Amish pies," said Jennxpenn.
"I'm just blending in with the locals," said HurricaneAubrey. "We need to be as inconspicuous as possible."
Jennxpenn let out a sigh.
"If I didn't know any better, I would say that you want to join the Amish and their backwards ways," said Jennxpenn.
HurricaneAubrey gave Jennxpenn a friendly smile. To Jennxpenn, this was a clear indicator of HurricaneAubrey's wish to join the Amish.
"Enough of this," said Jennxpenn as she moved away from the cooking table. "I'm going for a walk. Maybe I'll see something interesting along the way."
HurricaneAubrey watched as Jennxpenn ambulated towards the barn whose walls were being raised over the wooden framework. She was obviously looking for the prankster.
"She's not going to find Obadiah," thought HurricaneAubrey. "It's all Mr. Saul's doing. The more I think about it, the more I believe that Mr. Saul is wholly responsible for this whole affair. My initial thoughts about Obadiah being Mr. Saul's assistant were merely the ramblings of my doubts about the well-intentions of the Amish. Look at the Amish working together to build a barn for one family."
HurricaneAubrey saw the Amish busying themselves with constructing the barn. Harmony was thriving in Arcadia. There was no sign of strife as the men built, the women cooked, and the children assisted.
"No constant newsfeed of endless obituaries, no signs of mass killings, and no indicators of economic inequality," thought HurricaneAubrey. "Maybe I can live a life outside of the Internet Police and without the internet in general."
HurricaneAubrey continued her routine of stirring as the grass around her moved gently due to the wind.
"But what about the fact that the internet enabled you to learn so much about the world. Wasn't the internet responsible for connecting families across long distances and fostering friendships across different cultures," said a voice in HurricaneAubrey's head.
There was a frown on HurricaneAubrey's face as she thought about her rose-tinted view of a life without the internet.
"Are you sure that you'll be fired from the Internet Police in the first place? Don't count yourself short," thought HurricaneAubrey.
Since embracing Amish ways was such a complex decision, HurricaneAubrey decided to focus entirely on the current mission before delving into this life-changing choice.
"Don't underestimate the marvels of the modern world," said a fleeting voice in HurricaneAubrey's consciousness.
Jennxpenn was strolling around the barn as it was taking shape over the bucolic fields of Ohio. The harmonious noises of hammers and hand-powered saws were foreign to Jennxpenn accustomed to a life of high-tech computerized gadgetry and electricity. She remembered her school field trips to Amish country while living in Pennsylvania. She recalled being bored out of her mind as a little girl who didn't care about the Amish wanting to separate themselves from the outside world. The little girl who wanted to go on more interesting field trips was forced to suffer being lectured about how the Amish churned butter, how they debated about whether to have outhouses or indoor plumbing, and whether they could ride inside cars. And that mindset didn't change as she was once again in Amish country. She didn't really care about the well-being of the Amish. She only cared about catching Mr. Saul and not about assisting a backwards people who shunned the practicalities of modern life. She also couldn't understand why HurricaneAubrey had affinity for the Amish.
"She's a George Zazz lover," said Jennxpenn as she moved past a group of men carrying a wooden board over their shoulders. "I bet she even had a crush on the man considered how pompous and snobby he was. I'm glad I was a resistance member through and through. Maybe her joining the Amish is a way of honoring George Zazz's memory. She's weak if she needs Georgie that badly."
Jennxpenn giggled to herself as she concluded that HurricaneAubrey was not fit for being an Internet Police agent.
"Now to find Obadiah and have him lead me to Mr. Saul," thought Jennxpenn. "He must be planning his prank right about now."
Jennxpenn saw the Amish men trying to calm a horse that was attached to a wagon loaded with wooden planks. She noticed that the horse's harness wasn't fashioned properly.
"Excuse me, that horse isn't properly attached," said Jennxpenn.
The Amish men listened to her and fixed the horse's harness. But they didn't thank her or even made eye contact with her.
"What's their problem?" thought Jennxpenn. "Whatever. Obadiah must be nearby."
Moving closer to the unfinished barn, Jennxpenn saw that an Amish boy was blind-folded as he was walking towards the table where HurricaneAubrey and the Amish women were preparing the pies.
"I've got to stop him," thought Jennxpenn. "Obadiah must have told him to play a game of blind man's bluff, and after making the boy dizzy, he must have informed him to keep moving forward as a way of catching him. But of course, Obadiah intended for the boy to crash into the preparation tables and create an embarrassing situation worthy enough to post on the internet."
Jennxpenn marched after the boy, but then she stopped short.
"If everything goes according to Mr. Saul's plans, then Obadiah will get cocky and snap pictures and record videos of the debacle on a portable device. If my assumptions that Obadiah is poorly educated on operating modern electronic devices, then he will expose himself quite clearly to two agents well versed in detecting high-tech items in a backwards environment," thought Jennxpenn. "Let's wait and see what happens."
The scenario of an Amish boy walking towards an outdoors kitchen would be comparable to a train about to crash into a car parked on the railroad tracks. Predictably, neither the train nor the boy would come out unscathed. Neither would the car or HurricaneAubrey with the latter standing at the table that was in front of the Amish boy.
Crash!
"Ouch!" yelled the Amish boy as he still wore the blindfold over his eyes.
Jennxpenn hadn't planned for the Amish boy to walk directly into HurricaneAubrey's table. And she saw HurricaneAubrey being surrounded by a group of angry Amish men and women. Perhaps they believed that HurricaneAubrey was equally responsible for not spotting the Amish boy quickly enough to prevent the spill of flour and milk onto the grass. Soon afterwards, flashes of light and the sounds of a camera caught Jennxpenn's attention. She saw Obadiah taking pictures from a mobile device of the crash between the boy and HurricaneAubrey's table.
"It was him!" yelled Jennxpenn as she pointed her finger at Obadiah.
"I'm out of here! Free at last! You hear that everyone! I was the one responsible for all of these pranks!" cried Obadiah with excitement.
Forgetting all about HurricaneAubrey confronting the entire Amish community, Jennxpenn pursued Obadiah across the fields and through the town. She saw Obadiah get onto a horse-drawn buggy.
"Giddy up!" yelled Obadiah as he convinced the horse to pull the buggy at a breakneck speed.
Stranded on the side of the dirt road, Jennxpenn tried to think of an alternative mode of transportation besides running futilely against the horse-drawn buggy. Fortunately, there happened to be a horseless carriage passing by. Unfortunately, it was a slow-moving milk truck carrying milk cartons for the remote town of Arcadia. It was the best Jennxpenn could hope for.
"Get out. I'll be driving this truck," said Jennxpenn to the truck driver who was dressed like he was from the 1950s.
"I thought Amish people weren't supposed to drive motorized vehicles," said the milkman.
"Times changed. Amish are driving now," said Jennxpenn as she threw the milkman out of the slow-moving truck.
Despite the excruciating slowness of the truck, Jennxpenn was still able to catch up to the horse-drawn buggy. She saw Obadiah trying to communicate with Mr. Saul through his earpiece.
"An Amish girl is behind me now. And she is driving. What do you want me to do?" asked Obadiah to Mr. Saul. "She must really hate my guts if she's going to risk being shunned to get to me."
"Leave it to me," said Mr. Saul, whose voice was clearly audible to Jennxpenn as Obadiah had cranked the volume on his earpiece to the maximum level.
Jennxpenn heard something moving within the buggy.
"With this remote-controlled Maxim gun that I stole from the abandoned ruins of George Zazz's Ohio base, that Amish bitch won't know what hit her. Literally," said Mr. Saul, unaware that Jennxpenn could hear him.
Having received an early warning, Jennxpenn ducked her head as a hail of bullets came flying from the buggy to the milk truck. Ignoring the glass flying around her, Jennxpenn kept the car going as it was catching up to the buggy.
"You didn't tell me about the English weaponry in the buggy!" yelled Obadiah to Mr. Saul. "This wasn't a part of the deal!"
"When you're a popular YouTuber, you can get away with anything," said Mr. Saul. "Including firing rubber bullets with George Zazz's Maxim gun. Obadiah! Did you capture the footage of the Amish girl's look of horror?"
"I did," said Obadiah as he held the portable device in his hand. "Or at least I think I did."
"You're so unreliable," commented Mr. Saul. "I bet you can't even operate a fucking potato peeler. Lucky that you were even able to record my pranks in Arcadia despite your prehistoric ways. Whatever man. Just try to get a better shot of that terrified Amish girl. She must be scared shitless with the stunt I pulled. Her reaction would be the perfect ending to my video 'Pranks in the Amish Hood'."
Obadiah looked back at the milk truck, fully expecting the Amish girl to be crying and begging for mercy. Instead, he saw that the Amish girl was holding up an electronic device while she was still driving. The girl with a large smile on her face tore off her bonnet, revealing her flowing blonde hair in the process.
"My name is Jennxpenn. It would be smart to get off the buggy while you still can," said Jennxpenn as she aimed the electronic device towards the horse-drawn buggy.
"Jennxpenn?" said Obadiah loudly, unintentionally broadcasting the name to Mr. Saul.
"Jennxpenn!" screamed Mr. Saul.
"Welcome to the modern world," said Jennxpenn as she launched the flamethrower feature on her Electronic Database.
A burst of fire was propelled from the Electronic Database to the buggy in the back. Obadiah got off the buggy just in time, leaving only the horse to drag the buggy engulfed in an inferno. Jennxpenn saw the Maxim gun being rendered unusable because of the flames. With Obadiah on the side of the dirt road, Jennxpenn parked the milk truck next to him.
"Tell me where Mr. Saul is," said Jennxpenn as she towered over Obadiah.
To make a long story short, Jennxpenn failed to obtain Mr. Saul's whereabouts from Obadiah. Frustrated, Jennxpenn marched with a handcuffed Obadiah back to the field where he caused the barn-raising fiasco. She knew that Obadiah would most likely be shunned for his pranks. Reaching the field, Jennxpenn and Obadiah saw the entire Amish community of Arcadia gave angry stares at Obadiah. Not only that, the Amish had evidently formed a circle around HurricaneAubrey.
"And you are still defending Obadiah after all he just did?" shouted one Amish elder.
"He only did what he did because he was influenced by Mr. Saul," explained HurricaneAubrey.
"Did this Mr. Saul plant poisonous ideas into Obadiah like wanting to travel the world and play musical instruments?" said a teenage Amish girl. "These actions are even worse than the pranks he pulled on us."
"Is it really that bad to travel the world or be a pianist?" asked HurricaneAubrey.
"Of course, you harlot!" shouted the teenage Amish girl. She turned to her fellow Amish. "I, Mary Winthrop, have been faithful to the Amish while this whore has not."
"I must be dreaming," thought HurricaneAubrey as she felt a chill flowing through her body as she watched as Mary pointed at her with disdain. For a brief second, HurricaneAubrey saw Mary gave a smug smile as the Amish girl continued her rant.
"I have devoted my entire life to learning how to become a faithful wife. I will give my future husband many children that will be of great help around the farm. How can this witch compare to me? I had my suspicions about this woman since she came here and displayed her look of utmost disgust at the outhouses that her neighbors were using. It was when this Amish woman insisted on getting a house with indoor plumbing that I grew suspicious of her faithfulness to our ways. I took it upon myself to observe her from a distance, and lo and behold, my actions were justified as she, like a poor mother, failed to stop this boy from ruining our feast preparations and is now defending Obadiah's sins," said Mary.
"Don't worry," said HurricaneAubrey as she gave a brief glance at Obadiah. She proceeded to defend Obadiah's honor. "Obadiah is just a kid."
"Just a kid?" remarked Mary incredulously. "He has just finished his rumspringa, after which he gave us his full consent to commit himself to the Amish way of life. During the rumspringa, we gave him a chance to leave us in peace so that he can pursue his sinful ways of the English world. He refused this opportunity, and at first, we thought he had finally joined us. Such a shame that he changed his mind immediately afterwards. Unlike him, I knew I wanted to join the Amish since I was a little girl. I have remained steadfast to the idea ever since. Why can't he?"
HurricaneAubrey saw Mary's arms being crossed in an arrogant manner. Mary interrupted her before she could answer her question regarding Obadiah's allegiance.
"I think I should remind you what a rumspringa is since the sinful ways of the English has made you forget," said Mary as she giggled.
"For your information, I know exactly what a rumspringa is!" shouted HurricaneAubrey. "It is a rite of passage involving Amish youths experimenting with modern lifestyles as a way of making an informed decision on whether or not to join the Amish. I think this is flawed."
"What?!" shouted all the Amish in unison. "Shun her! Shun her!"
"Such blasphemy!" yelled Mary.
HurricaneAubrey now saw that there was no hope to reconcile Obadiah with his Amish brothers and sisters. It was time to make one last stand not for Obadiah's sake but clarifying her allegiance to the modern world. She saw the Amish looking at her with eager anticipation of what she had to say. There was a long silence as HurricaneAubrey tried to think about what she wanted to say.
"Well," said Mary. "What else do you have to say? Because I have plenty to say."
Once again, Mary began lambasting HurricaneAubrey's supposedly poor Amish upbringing.
"This is just sad," said Jennxpenn as she saw HurricaneAubrey acting like a deer in the headlights.
Jennxpenn pushed her way past the Amish circle and grabbed HurricaneAubrey's hand.
"And where do you think you're going?!" screamed Mary as she pointed her finger at HurricaneAubrey and Jennxpenn running for their lives as Obadiah simply followed them.
Jennxpenn gazed upon HurricaneAubrey's face. The veteran Internet Police agent was trying her best not to cry. Alas, she was human, and as such, her eyes were watery as incomprehensible words were being spoken from her mouth. Looking back at the unsympathetic Amish mob, Jennxpenn decided to rage against them.
"You all are full of shit!" shouted Jennxpenn. "You think the morality of a person is determined where they shit, how they travel, or how much they can fail at playing the piano. I'm glad my female partner and I only pretended to be Amish to save your ungrateful asses from these pranks. Hope you're proud of yourselves."
"I am," said Mary. "And I intend on convincing my brothers and sisters on removing any vestiges of 'English' corruption like solar panels or roller skates. I think a purely Amish lifestyle will be the way forward."
"Suit yourself," said Jennxpenn as she saw Mary waving goodbye to them in a patronizing manner.
In Ohio's Rust Belt, Jennxpenn and HurricaneAubrey were searching a closed greeting card store in the middle of the night. They were looking for Mr. Saul outside of Amish country using modern flashlights. Jennxpenn was glad to be back in the modern world with its conveniences. Dressed in a white blouse underneath a blue suit jacket accompanied with a yellow ribbon tie and a blue skirt, Jennxpenn was ready to bring Mr. Saul to justice.
"Where could this son of a bitch be?" asked Jennxpenn as she shined her flashlight throughout the store, whose aisles had signs reading 'Going out of Business Sale'. "The clues we found pointed us here. What do you think, HurricaneAubrey?"
Jennxpenn waited for HurricaneAubrey to give an answer. HurricaneAubrey remained silent.
"HurricaneAubrey?" asked Jennxpenn again as she shined her flashlight onto her partner's face. It appeared that HurricaneAubrey's eyes were non-blinking and directed to the stained floor. "I need some assistance."
"Why do you need my help? I'm just your apprentice now," said HurricaneAubrey.
"Only temporarily," said Jennxpenn. "And besides, it's your own fault that you were demoted. You did exceptionally poor in Amish country. Who was it that captured Obadiah? I did. Who successfully saved us from the Amish mob? I did. Who was more focused on wanting to join the Amish instead of stopping Mr. Saul's pranks. That was you."
HurricaneAubrey's fist was being clenched into a ball as she continued listening to Jennxpenn's tirade against her.
"I should remind you that Chief Horner agreed with me on your disastrous performance in Amish country. As you want to forget the reason why you are now my subordinate, I'll give you the explanation in full. Chief Horner saw how you seem to be losing your Internet Police skills, and because of this, she decided that it would be best to take a backseat while I, a real agent, would guide you to prevent any booboos on your part. You're lucky that you weren't dismissed from the Internet Police considering your lackluster qualities and your undying love of George Zazz. You got that HurricaneAubrey?" said Jennxpenn.
HurricaneAubrey merely nodded.
"Good. Now let's go hunt down the bastard Mr. Saul," said Jennxpenn.
Jennxpenn began knocking over shipment boxes filled with Easter greeting cards, indicating that Easter was coming up in the month of April.
"Why am I looking inside egg cartons?" said Jennxpenn as she opened cartons containing Easter eggs. "Where is he?"
Jennxpenn was trying to think of what to do. She then saw the aisle stacked with chocolate eggs and Peeps. She began opening the packages and started eating them.
"Where could he be?" thought Jennxpenn as she began gobbling up the Easter treats while sitting on the floor.
Getting up, Jennxpenn walked over to HurricaneAubrey as the latter remained stationary at the same spot. The eyes of HurricaneAubrey darted from the floor to Jennxpenn holding opened boxes of sweets.
"Uh… I'm going to pay for everything," spoke Jennxpenn through a mouth stuffed with Peeps. "I'll make sure to offer an anonymous donation to this store."
"No. I'll pay for it," said HurricaneAubrey.
Jennxpenn was taken aback.
"I am lower-ranked than you now. And besides, it would be the first step to atoning for my sins of being nostalgic for a nonexistent past," said HurricaneAubrey. "I was wrong, and you're right."
There was silence in the greeting card store. Jennxpenn thought she would be jumping for joy or gloating about her superiority over HurricaneAubrey. But that feeling never came. Instead, she felt sorrow for seeing a broken woman addressing her faults.
"What happened to me?" questioned HurricaneAubrey as she looked over her hands. "What should I have told the Amish about my incompatibility with their lifestyle? Maybe I should have explained how humans can still be immoral regardless of technological levels? Or should I have brought up how modern technology has been a blessing on humanity? Or how teenagers barely at the cusp of adulthood are forced to make life-changing choices like joining the Amish or choosing a career field? I don't know where I should begin."
"How about cutting all of the bullshit and just saying 'I love my modern life.'? Simple as that," suggested Jennxpenn.
"But what about establishing an introductory point, a main body of arguments and proofs, and a conclusion to summarize all the issues brought up in your statement and to defend against potential counterarguments?" asked HurricaneAubrey.
"I don't need all of that fat," said Jennxpenn. "That's the problem with you being an Internet Police agent. You're so focused on defeating your enemies psychologically that you forget that a clear, direct action would do the trick. It's like trying to put out a house fire by using a complicated mix of chemicals when you could've just used a bucket of water to extinguish the flames. Just say 'I hate the Amish because they don't have electricity.' What's so hard about that?"
HurricaneAubrey thought about what Jennxpenn had to say. The blonde Internet Police agent saw the emptiness in HurricaneAubrey's eyes as the latter began to speak.
"I hate not having electricity," said HurricaneAubrey.
"See. That's better than listening to an essay on quantum physics," said Jennxpenn.
HurricaneAubrey felt liberated. No longer did she had to abide by the constraints of complex sentences and thoughts. No more second guessing herself. No more overanalyzing things.
"I absolutely love relaxing in a hot jacuzzi," said HurricaneAubrey out of the blue. "You can't get that in Amish country."
Jennxpenn was impressed with how HurricaneAubrey accepted the new norm.
"Screw living backwards. I can't live without electricity or air conditioning," said Jennxpenn.
Jennxpenn and HurricaneAubrey were giggling amongst themselves, which was a rare event.
"My mind is at rest," thought HurricaneAubrey as she enthusiastically accepted Jennxpenn's philosophy on being a good Internet Police agent. "I'm ready to combat Frank and Roxy's continuation of George Zazz's evil empire, and my sister is going to be proud of me for not sucking up to George Zazz's regressive doctrine. I have the perfect strategy to win in Europe."
"Let's go get Mr. Saul," said Jennxpenn.
In the days after the newfound friendship between Jennxpenn and HurricaneAubrey, Frank Murdoch was giving a televised speech in the Rome's Colosseum regarding the center of civilization.
"As an American soldier, I was stationed in Iraq. Between my military duties, I had found time to explore the ruins of a ziggurat and tour the National Museum of Iraq. I was expecting to see a great collection of artifacts from the Fertile Crescent, the birthplace of civilization. But what I got was broken pottery and ransacked archeological sites. It boggles my mind how the modern people of the Euphrates and the Tigris could act so uncivilized to their predecessors. I wanted to ask my superiors in the U.S. military for greater assistance on protecting the legacy of the first civilization, but they rebuked me, saying that people were more important than Mesopotamian trinkets," said Frank. "As if that excuses anything."
"I'm getting word that the viewers watching this on the internet are saying that you consider old clay pots more important than the lives of children," spoke Roxy through Frank's earpiece.
"So be it if anyone values the lives of the uncivilized over that of civilized objects," said Frank out loud. "These uncivilized Iraqis have brought shame upon their ancestors."
"I'm getting feedback that your Iraqi statement was racist," said Roxy through the earpiece.
In order to gauge popular opinion and to garner support for the Heartlanders, Frank had been equipped with an earpiece at Roxy's insistence. Upon reading live comments and watching instant video vlogs from her laptop, Roxy could inform Frank on what the world was thinking about his televised speech. So far, he was losing in the public arena that was the internet.
"It's not the Iraqis who are uncivilized, it's also the Greeks and the Italians," said Frank as he held up one index finger from his outstretched hand. "What happened to them? Take the Greeks. They are drowning in debt right now with a mediocre army. In ancient times, Greece was the center of learning and enlightenment, spreading their superior culture from the deserts of Egypt to the plains of India. I'll tell you what happened to the Greeks. They became uncivilized."
"This just in. Everyone is telling you that the Greeks practiced slavery and that you should shove your statement of modern Greeks being uncivilized up your ass," spoke Roxy through the earpiece.
"Athena herself is lamenting the fall of the Greeks," said Frank without impunity. "Once the Greeks proved themselves unworthy of being the center of civilization, it would be up to the Romans to carry the burden of civilizing the barbarians of the world. Combining the ideas and innovations of the Babylonians, the Egyptians, the Phoenicians, and the Greeks, the Romans were the epitome of the word civilized. Tell me what inventions that wasn't conceived by the Romans."
"How about the internet?" said Roxy as she read a list of online comments to Frank. "Or the car. Or popcorn."
Frank grimaced at how badly he was butchering his speech. Had he lost his golden touch after being Emperor George's Bulldog. He couldn't think properly right now considering the barrage of negative comments flooding online. Regardless, he was determined to save face.
"Who will restore the civilization of the Romans? The answer is the Heartlanders led by yours truly Frank Murdoch. Like the Romans, we are a civilized people who will restore Europe back to her greatness. We have already liberated several German and Italian cities from savagery, incorporating them into the new nation of Europa. Soon, we will march our liberating army to free the rest of Europe," said Frank.
"Aren't you the man who massacred those poor people in Queens, New York?" said Roxy as she read a scathing comment to Frank.
"Who cares!?" blurted out Frank in front a bewildered live audience both televised and present in the Colosseum.
Besides speaking to a global audience, Frank was also delivering his speech to an elite group of Heartlanders that consisted of the Italian mafia, renegade American soldiers, and other dignitaries Frank didn't recognize at the top of his head. Their opinion of him mattered just as much as the viewers watching him from the comfort of their homes. He cleared his throat and began his closing statement.
"I'll finish my speech by showcasing where I am right now. I am standing in the Colosseum. This is the culmination of all the civilizations that came before the Romans. We have the masonry techniques pioneered by the Egyptians and the influence of ancient Greece with the presence of Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian columns. This is the symbol of Rome's extraordinary impact on Western Civilization," said Frank. "This is the epitome of civilization triumphing over the barbarians still living in straw huts."
"Weren't people killed in the Colosseum to please the savage Roman masses? How dare you callously dismiss the cruelty the Colosseum inflicted on its victims? Those poor animals," said Roxy as she read the online comments to Frank.
"Oh crap," said Frank. "What I meant to say was that the Colosseum was the downfall of Roman civilization when the masses lowered their intelligence by watching bloody spectators that mocked both decency and civility. I mean, that's like today's mindless entertainment like reality tv programs and talk shows. We are standing at the Roman Colosseum, where civilization goes to die. I hope you learned a valuable lesson. That message would be that the Heartlanders are the light of the world and the legitimate successor to Emperor George's Institute Army."
"Fucking Zazz. You really going to honor a man who was responsible for the Great Schism of America, which killed over half a million people. Fuck you, Frank. Fuck you," said the online messages being read by Roxy.
"I say this as my parting words for the evening: Internexus Vult!" proclaimed Frank as he held his fist into the air.
Frank was expecting the masses in the Colosseum to reply with thunderous applause. Instead, there were a few polite claps that echoed in the night sky. Roxy saw the messages that appeared on her laptop saying such words like epic fail, what a disaster, you're going to be dead like Georgie, and should've just surrendered and saved the police the trouble of catching you. She was about to close her laptop when one message stood out among the rest. It was from a user called GeneralNatalia.
"It's time, Roxy. Don't mess it up," said the words written by one GeneralNatalia.
Knowing that the time had come to act, Roxy closed her laptop and began walking onto the partially covered floor of the Colosseum. She saw Frank standing behind a speech podium. For a man who was stationed at the spot where the Roman emperors would watch gladiator matches and address their wishes to the Roman patricians and plebeians, he was looking rather uneasy and unconfident. Roxy was situated on the ground where the blood of so many victims of the Colosseum was spilled, and in contrast to the agony and cries of the prisoners who perished in the Colosseum, Roxy let out a smile.
"I want you Frank to join me on this stage," said Roxy as she started pointing her fingers at the various individuals in the crowd, mostly older men. "Along with you, you, you, and yes, even you."
"Why?" asked Frank.
"I have something very important to say to all of you personally. Something that requires an intimate and personal conversation. I would say that it would even win us the War of European Succession," announced Roxy.
Frank looked around at the people Roxy selected to join her on the Colosseum's ground level. They consisted primarily of the Italian mafia. Frank shrugged his shoulders and made his way to the Colosseum's floor. He made his way past the torches that gave natural lighting to the amphitheater. They were meant to give his speech a more dignified and atmospheric touch, but as he heard about the online response to his oratory performance, he concluded that the torches unimpressed the electronically wired world.
"Everyone here?" asked Roxy.
"Pretty much," said Frank as the last of the chosen individuals made their way around Roxy.
"Good," said Roxy as a human-sized birdcage was wheeled behind her.
Roxy opened the cage's door and walked into it. She then took out a key from her jean pocket and proceeded to lock herself inside the cage.
"What are you doing, Roxy?" asked Frank.
"I'm trying to prove a point," said Roxy. "You were given the opportunity to give a speech to try to convince the world to join us. You failed. Let me give you my own speech on why you lost your touch."
"I'm sorry what?" said bewildered Frank.
"I think it is time to end our partnership, Frank. You're clearly a relic of the Great Schism of America. Nowadays, Emperor George is reviled by everyone, and as Emperor George's Bulldog, you will never be respected by anyone," said Roxy.
"Are you suggesting that I should just retire and live the rest of my days on a French farm?" said Frank.
"Who said anything about retirement?" said Roxy as she snapped her fingers.
In the flickers of the torches, the shadows of several large beasts were flooding the Colosseum's floor. Frank and his cronies then heard loud roars. He then saw the source of these horrible sounds: lions.
"Are you fucking serious?!" shouted Frank. "After all we've been through."
"Sorry old friend, but you're not the man I'm looking for," said Roxy. "My heart belongs to someone else. Someone younger and more savvy with today's high-tech world. You can see my new partner sitting underneath the awning in front of you."
Frank saw the person who had dethroned him in the eyes of Roxy. He immediately recognized this individual. Frank fought with this person in the deserts of New Mexico and in St. Louis.
"What?!" screamed Frank. "You really going to fall in love with that creature."
"For your information, my new partnership is strictly professional," correct Roxy with a blush on her face. "And my new alliances have extended to include a Siberian general by the name of Natalia Petrovskaya."
The handlers of the lions were holding onto the chains of the ferocious cats. It was the only barrier separating Frank and his buddies from being devoured.
"I take it you're also in bed with the Russians and their backward Eastern ways," stated Frank. "My countrymen fought and died trying to keep back the Russkies. Must I remind you of Kennedy's defiance of Khrushchev during the Cuban Missile Crisis."
"Ms. Petrovskaya is Siberian, not Russian," said Roxy. "I don't care about being a Heartlander anymore. In fact, I don't care about promoting the American way or even Western values. I think the time has come for a new era in history. One without the archaic past weighing down on human progress."
"You've got to be joking, right," said one of the mafia members
"What is she blabbering on about?" questioned another Italian mafia member.
"I am referring to your executions and the dissolution of the Heartlanders' rule of Europa," said Roxy.
"After all we've been through, the countless criminals we killed across America, and the bodies we crushed underneath our feet, you're really going to abandon our hopes and our dreams to run off with a renegade Internet Police agent and a Russkie," said Frank as he saw Roxy standing confidently inside the birdcage. "What about that farmhouse we were going to live on in France?"
"You're just a cocksucker who can't win wars anymore," said Roxy. "You and your mafia members have become pussified with time. Indeed, the Heartlanders' flag has a red stripe hovering over a yellow stripe. To be fair, the Heartlanders did raise this flag over several German and Italian cities, though their control of those cities is tenuous at best. I believe that the red horizontal symbolizes the blood of Heartlander soldiers soaking the yellow fields of grain."
"What are you getting at?" asked Frank.
"I'm saying that the Heartlanders are not worthy of this flag as demonstrated by numerous skirmishes by hostile locals that has sent us into an irreparable retreat," commented Roxy. "I will not lose the opportunity of seizing power due to a couple of old men being inadequately versed in modern warfare."
"So, this is goodbye then. Do you really think this is a good idea?" asked Frank.
Frank hoped that an ounce of doubt still existed in Roxy's mind.
"Yes," said Roxy.
"Wait!" yelled Frank. "We can still spill our blood for the greater good."
"You will," said Roxy as she snapped her finger.
The lions were unleashed onto the Italian mafia and Frank. The gnashing and relentless roars filled the Colosseum. Like in ancient times, blood spilled across the Colosseum's floor. Not only was there blood as Roxy promised but also several bodily fluids that came from two sources. As for Roxy, she was safely enclosed in a birdcage that protected her from the claws and teeth of the lions. Fortunately for her, the blood of the doomed men and the saliva of the lions flew through the cage's openings, and these objects landed onto Roxy much to her delight. She then saw a bloody hand reaching through the birdcage. It was Frank. Emperor George's Bulldog and the Modern Clyde was lying in a pool of his own blood and entrails.
"What happened to my pretty girl?" said Frank through a blood-stained mouth.
Roxy watched as the man who was her soul mate through their killing spree across America fell to the ground of the Colosseum, denied a noble death by a proper gladiatorial duel or a firing squad.
"Inform General Petrovskaya of what just happened. I want her to see me now," said Roxy to her loyal assistants.
In St. Petersburg's Hermitage Museum, a party was being held in honor of a ceasefire between Russia and the newly sovereign country of Siberia. Dignitaries from both countries were dressed in Soviet-era military uniforms as they discussed the various periods of Russian history, which was appropriate considering they were drinking wine in a special Exhibition space simply titled A History of Russia. For General Petrovskaya, she was asked a question that went beyond Russia's reduced yet still impressing borders that stretched from the Baltic Sea to the Ural Mountains.
"What do you know about the Great Man Theory?" asked a Russian dignitary to General Petrovskaya.
"I am aware that the celebrated Russian author Leo Tolstoy presented a counterargument against the Great Man Theory in the acclaimed book War and Peace," explained General Petrovskaya as she stood against the backdrop of a painting showing Napoleon's Grande Armée succumbing to the harsh Russian winter. "Tolstoy proposed that the course of history was determined by greater socio-economic and geographical forces rather than the decisions of powerful people like Napoleon. Well I'm here to say that the great Tolstoy is wrong."
The Russian dignitary was about to raise his voice when General Petrovskaya raised her hand.
"Let me explain. I know that Tolstoy used Napoleon as an example of disproving the Great Man Theory, but I'll use Hitler as a more contemporary example," said General Petrovskaya.
"Hitler. A great man?!" said the flabbergasted Russian dignitary.
"More like a great failure," said General Petrovskaya with a laugh much to the relief of the dignitary. "Getting back on point, there are some historians who argue that Nazi Germany was doomed to fail due to a combination of external forces: lack of oil to run their military machine, the English Channel hampering Germany's ability to invade Great Britain, the vastness of Russia bogging down the Germans, and the Atlantic Ocean protecting the United States of America from an immediate German attack. That would be Tolstoy's belief. I beg to differ. Hitler lost because of his own stupidity. He expelled every Jewish physicist who could have helped Germany become the first nation with atomic weaponry, and it would be his steadfast belief in Aryan superiority that he diverted valuable men and resources to exterminate non-Aryans on a militarily-useless mission. He could have not declared war on the United States for no discernible reason. Maybe he could have negotiated a better deal with Great Britain."
General Petrovskaya gestured her hand (that was holding a glass of wine) towards a collage of photographs showcasing the Nazi Germany's Siege of Leningrad.
"War between Hitler's Germany and Stalin's Soviet Union was inevitable due to ideological differences. It was only a matter of when. And Hitler struck first. The Wehrmacht came to the outskirts of the city we are currently holding this conversation in," said General Petrovskaya with a tinge of sadness in her voice. "When Hitler invaded the Soviet Union, there were many locals who hated Stalin and were more than willing to side with the Nazis if it meant liberation from the Soviets. Being the ignoramus that he was, Hitler wanted to eradicate these locals just for not being Aryan despite their gratitude towards the invading Germans. Just think of how many more people would have contributed to the German war machine," explained General Petrovskaya. "On the other hand, Stalin was a smarter man who regained his people's love. By his newfound charisma and leadership, he mounted the greatest comeback in history and drove the Nazis back, saving St. Petersburg and all the other Russian cities from obliteration. So, do you now believe me that great men and women shape history and not some arbitrary forces of nature?"
"Yes," said the Russian dignitary. "Looks like I underestimated you. I thought an American woman who only recently joined the Siberian rebels would be woefully unknowledgeable about Russian history."
"You're right. I'm just a naïve American woman with legitimate Russian ancestry who decided to run off to Siberia on a whim. I just so happened to stumble across Siberians wanting to declare independence from a failing Russian state. And I accidently rallied the troops and led several soldiers to fight valiantly against the Russian armies sent to put down the rebellion. You can only imagine my disbelief when Siberia won its independence thanks to someone like me," said General Petrovskaya with a devious smile.
"You have wit. I can see how you won Siberia's independence on the battlefield and in the diplomatic halls," said the Russian dignitary. His smile then turned sour. "Make no mistake. Russia will not let Siberia off so easily. We'll be watching closely to see if Siberia will join the great powers of the world or collapse under its own weight."
"I'll make this century the Siberian Century," said General Petrovskaya.
"A lofty goal," said the Russian dignitary.
"Thank you," said General Petrovskaya as she wandered off, feeling that she ended the conversation well.
General Petrovskaya walked past portraits of Peter the Great and Catherine the Great.
"Testaments to the Great Man Theory," thought General Petrovskaya as she sipped her wine.
"General Petrovskaya. You have a message from Rome," said a waiter as he handed her an electronic tablet.
"Thank you," said General Petrovskaya as she retreated to a darkened room filled with paintings in need of repair. She placed the electronic tablet onto an easel. "Let's see if Roxy did what I told her to do."
General Petrovskaya answered the message on the tablet. She was greeted with lions roaming around the Colosseum's floor covered in corpses. It was a symphony of death. And its conductor was standing in a birdcage as she was covered in blood.
"Roxy! What have you done?!" screamed General Petrovskaya. "I only told you to put Frank and the Italian mafia under house arrest. Not have them all executed in a gory manner."
"I did what I had to do. And I'm not sorry," said Roxy. "And if you're worried about anyone finding out, don't worry. I had all the cameras turned off during the lions' feast. Besides, my loyal subjects in the Colosseum swore an oath to not tell anyone of my night here. Am I right?"
General Petrovskaya saw the Internet Police defector give a nod of approval to Roxy. The Siberian general then saw Frank's lifeless face, with its bulging eyes staring back at her.
"I thought you would have treated Frank with a little more respect. I heard that he was a father to you," said General Petrovskaya as she tried to keep her composure.
"He wasn't giving me satisfaction I wanted," said Roxy as she washed her hair with blood. "Now let's forget about him and move on. I have you to satisfy me. How about we get started on securing Germany and Italy?"
"Only if you stop committing acts of gratuitous and excessive violence," insisted General Petrovskaya.
"But… but…" stammered Roxy like a little girl who just heard that she wasn't getting any Easter eggs this year.
"You stick to my plan or I'll terminate all Siberian support for your cause. Do you understand?" said General Petrovskaya.
"Yes," said a crestfallen Roxy.
"Good," said General Petrovskaya. "Hopefully you have someone to clean up this mess before any outsiders notice."
"I'll clean it up," said Roxy.
The transmission between Rome and St. Petersburg ended. General Petrovskaya was aghast at what she just saw.
"I thought that Frank and Roxy's massacres across America were just online rumors and exaggerations," said General Petrovskaya. "After all, instances of false information are widespread on the internet. But after seeing what I saw today, I can safely say that Roxy deserved her nickname the Virginian Butcher. If I can't control her to my liking, then Europe will beg for the return of the Black Death."
General Petrovskaya looked for solace in the painting in front of her. Much to her displeasure, it was Ilya Repin's painting Ivan the Terrible and His Son Ivan. It showed Ivan the Terrible, the first Tsar of Russia, mourning the death of his son after killing him in a fit of rage with the royal scepter.
"I would rather have Ivan the Terrible as a partner than Roxy," said General Petrovskaya as she examined the father cradling his dead son. "Let's see if she will join me as a great woman in history."
Please review this story to provide me some advice on improving it. What other internet personalities or memes should the Internet Police encounter?
