Sanctimonia Binocs, Bhubaneswar, 23 October 2025
Hark, ye perpetually harried and politically beleaguered citizens of Sanctimonia! The kingdom trembles, not from the righteous fury of the Holy Triad, but from the pathetic palpitations of our King’s heart. The entire weight of the realm, the grand machinery of state, and the last dregs of the royal treasury are now fixated on a single, terrifying prospect: the Nuapada by-election. For it is here, in this dusty provincial contest, that our monarch faces an existential threat more frightening than a treasury audit—the possibility of being outmaneuvered by a comedian.
The Nuapada Neurosis and a Paranoid Proclamation
Our King, a man who views governance as a series of increasingly frantic photo opportunities, is in a state of advanced panic. Ignoring the simmering violence in Cuttack and the utter breakdown of law in Berhampur, he has declared Nuapada the sole center of the universe. In a fit of desperation, he has bypassed all known bureaucracy, instructing every citizen of the voting district to bring their grievances directly to his office, a move that effectively renames his palace ‘The Nuapada Complaint Department’. His defense against all accusations of incompetence is a tired, paranoid mantra: “Conspirators are working together to tarnish the name of Odisha!”. He shouts this at every meeting, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the Jester’s camp, completely oblivious to the daggers being sharpened in his own backyard.
The Jester’s Uprising: A Campaign of Potholes and Wit
And what of the Jester? That beloved purveyor of truth and mirth has, to the King’s horror, mobilized his every resource for this fight. His campaign is a masterclass in political satire. While the King promises golden chariots, the Jester simply points to the potholes. While the King speaks of grand alliances, the Jester asks why the capital has run out of milk to fuel the endless, pointless political meetings. He has turned the election into a referendum on the King’s myriad failures, and the citizens, weary of royal pageantry and empty promises, are listening. The Jester’s rise is not a political anomaly; it is the logical conclusion in a kingdom where the government’s performance is already a joke.
The Treasonous Feast: A Conspiracy Simmering in Spices
But while the King obsesses over the Jester’s jests, the real tragedy is being rehearsed in the shadows. The Law Minister, that sulking figure of ambition, has found a kindred spirit in the meticulous Brutus. Their conspiracy is not hatched in a grand war room, but over shared plates of oily Chole Bhature in the Super King’s capital, a greasy testament to their treacherous appetites. The election is the perfect smokescreen. As the kingdom’s attention is diverted to Nuapada, Brutus has finally located the special load stone from within the Holy Triad’s treasury, and the quiet, rhythmic scrape of steel on stone is the true soundtrack to this political season.
A Kingdom’s Blind Spot
They have perfected the art of misdirection, transforming the simple corruption of the purse into the far more sinister corruption of the process. The Law Minister and Brutus have engineered this political circus, allowing chaos to reign so they may dismantle the kingdom from within, piece by treacherous piece. They are not merely plotting against the King; they are conspiring against Sanctimonia itself, while the King, bless his ignorant heart, worries about losing a popularity contest.
Oh, citizens, look past the electoral noise! The true danger is not the Jester who makes you laugh, but the silent men who plot while you are distracted. The King fears a lost election, but the kingdom faces a lost future, betrayed by those who feast together in the shadows. Oh, Holy Triad, save us from the grand folly of our King, but deliver us, most urgently, from the quiet, calculated treason of his friends.
