NationStates Jolt Archive

Hi there, I've recently opened up the country of Human OccupiedLandfill. We are open for all your trash dumping needs.
We accept
1) Inanimate trash you don't want. Anything from compost to fissile materials to Jack Chick tracts.
2) Animate trash you don't want. Either the results of those dodgy genetic experiments or politically undesireable people, we don't care.
3) Limited Weapons Testing. HoL is prepared to allow testing of new weapon systems on members of our *ahem* populace that can't run fast enough.

What I want to know is this: What kind of stuff (if any) would you like to dump on us. This will characterise the development, or rather the disintegration, of parts of our anarchic wasteland. We accept payment in anything whatsoever.

The Imperium of Akaton would like to dispose of a mountain of slowly decomposing human corpses. They were killed during a demonic invasion of our capital city and have remained unburied for several years. There are roughly 1.5 million corpses to dispose of.

Payment can either take the form of a transfer of cash or a fully operational Armageddon Engine. This device consumes the land around it, converting it into raw materials and automatically constructing miles of industrial facilities and pavement.

"Democracists! Stand up!" The Flight Sergeant yelled over the roar of the air passing by the open door. The depressed bodies of men and women sat on the uncomfortable benches, some splattered with vomit from various bouts of airsickness.

"You are all wearing an auto-deployed parachute," he yelled again, though none of them really heard it properly, "You are not required to touch anything. From the attendant you will receive one belt, containing five gold sovereigns. If you are approached by a Human OccupiedLandfillian Ofiicial, you will produce the belt as our nation's payment to them. If you do not have a belt, we are not responsible for what happens to you. Are we clear?"

Stunned silence from the fifty or so men and women in the plane. The green light above the door illuminated the Sergeant.

"Go! GO! GO! Out of the plane, now!"

Though most didn't want to jump, they were easily herded out of the plane, their 'chutes deploying above the nation of Human OccupiedLandfill. In half a dozen other planes, pro-Democracy Advocates were being thrown out into mid-air. They hadn't needed parachute jump training, had they? That'll teach them to mess with the Lord-Protector, the Sergeant thought as he slid shut the door and radioed the pilot to turn back to Starblaydi airspace.

The Imperium of Akaton would like to dispose of a mountain of slowly decomposing human corpses. They were killed during a demonic invasion of our capital city and have remained unburied for several years. There are roughly 1.5 million corpses to dispose of.

Payment can either take the form of a transfer of cash or a fully operational Armageddon Engine. This device consumes the land around it, converting it into raw materials and automatically constructing miles of industrial facilities and pavement.

The corpses were received and dumped just south of the Cadillac Desert. As well as providing sustenance for some of the roving Tyrannosaurs, they have been scavenged by some dodgy organ-leggers and even now some members of HoL's populace are sporting new additions to their skeletal structure.

The Armageddon Engine works beautifully, or at least it did until it was infested by a bunch of Warbling Festroids. These obnoxious little bird-rodents were killed by the machine's internal defences but not before they had removed a vital piece of plating. This would have been fine, but a particularly ripe daiper blew into the hole and seems to have settled over the Armageddon Engine's AI circuits. The poor thing is now quite insane and prowls the square miles of military-industrial complex it built etching strange designs into the pavements. It has a distressing tendency to dis-assemble any living things it comes across.
It still converts countryside into industrial areas, but somewhat more slowly than before. I like it! We call it George.

"From the attendant you will receive one belt, containing five gold sovereigns. If you are approached by a Human OccupiedLandfillian Ofiicial, you will produce the belt as our nation's payment to them. If you do not have a belt, we are not responsible for what happens to you. Are we clear?"

Though most didn't want to jump, they were easily herded out of the plane, their 'chutes deploying above the nation of Human OccupiedLandfill. In half a dozen other planes, pro-Democracy Advocates were being thrown out into mid-air. They hadn't needed parachute jump training, had they? That'll teach them to mess with the Lord-Protector, the Sergeant thought as he slid shut the door and radioed the pilot to turn back to Starblaydi airspace.

The Democratists plummeted through the air. Most of the chutes opened and some even reached the ground in one piece. If you could call it ground.

The surface of the Daiperswamp is quite thin. Layer upon layer of stinking used nappies and sanitary towels. The democrats landed with a soft squishy sound. Standing there for a few moments, they thought they were safe. Then the ground shifted ands slipped. It takes a while to sink into the daiperswamp. Less time if you struggle.

Some few democrats landed on solid ground. A few HoLians approached them to find out what the fuss was. The Democrats proferred the gold coins.
"These are as payment for our entry to your country."
The HoLians proferred their weaponry.
"Thanks. Do all the guys that fell in the swamp have gold on them?"
"Uh, we believe so. What kind of liberties are there in this country?"
"Well, nothing is proscribed."
"So what kind of jobs are there here?"
The guns were levelled.
"Well, you guys are going to be swamp divers for now. Until we got those coins."