NationStates Jolt Archive

Roach-Busters's relationship with Pacitalia had undergone a tumultuous evolution over the years. At various times, they were the staunchest of allies, at other times, the bitterest of enemies. Now, they existed on relatively neutral, albeit tense, terms, although the friendship between Tim Ell and Imperator J.L. I remained cordial and warm. However, as much as J.L. personally liked Ell the man quite a lot, he harbored plenty of contempt for Ell's style of governance, considering him too democratic, soft, and "weak-kneed." A nation as economically and militarily powerful as Pacitalia should have been in the forefront of the war against world communism; yet, although Ell himself had little sympathy for Marxist ideology, his government maintained cordial relations with some communist governments, which earned him the ire of J.L.

What Pacitalia needs, J.L. thought one afternoon, as he languorously puffed away at a thick cigar, is a more sensible, level-headed leader, a man with the will, the principle, and the fortitude to confront the Red menace head-on. Tim's one of my best friends, but the man's a jellyfish. As a politician, he has no guts. His party is no better. What Pacitalia needs is a gentleman like Marco Quirinamo. If he were in charge, it prove fortuitous to both our nations. Yet, the Pacitalian people are either too shallow or too simple to vote for him. Without outside support, the PdT's chances of coming to power are about as slim as the chance of a Shooban obtaining a Ph.D. This man Quirinamo is quite a respectable individual, one I would be honored to meet. Perhaps I should send him an invitation?


To: The Hon. Marco Quirinamo
From: Imperator J.L. I

"My Friend,

We have never had the pleasure of meeting, but doubtless you have heard of me. I am Imperator J.L. I, sovereign lord of the Holy Empire of Roach-Busters and her Dominions. In studying your party, I find that the members of it, especially fine, upstanding gentlemen like yourself, are astute, keen, sensible, and wise. You correctly deduce the sources of the world's ills, and recognize the right solutions. Rarely have I met a political party with which I share so much in common. I would be deeply honored if you would come to RB and meet with me in my palace. I have much to discuss with you, if you are interested."

Warmest regards,
Imperator J.L. I

Marco Quirinamo sat at his highly-polished stainless steel and glass desk. His office was rectangular and he was placed at the end of the long room, his feet up on the desk, smoking a fine Cuban and drinking Scotch from a square crystal glass. The elephant-gray smoke danced lazily away from his mouth and the long stub of the cigar, and shards of bright light came through the window slats behind him. The office was mahogany-walled, with soft charcoal-coloured carpet and cherry-red wall sconces throwing light in upside-down triangles above. From the ceiling pot lights sent light down gently at the front of the room where a highly-secured door was located right in the centre of the wall.

Quirinamo looked over at the plasma TV on the wall, just above the bronze sculpture commemorating the nine communists he killed with a sword in the 1973 Communist Purge in Roach-Busters. The TV was turned to PFN, the main financial network in Pacitalia. Stocks ran right to left on two crawls in the bottom third of the screen, as well as a major exchange display at the top showing the status of the main stock exchanges in Pacitalia and abroad. A young, impressionable-looking lady was interviewing the head of the Guffingford First National Bank & Trust, as the latter man made wild, machismatic claims about how his company would overpower the giant Sarzonian corporation Portland Iron Works. Quirinamo grunted in disgust - he hated the Sarzonians and any mention of them set him off on a train of thought nobody would want to see divulged. Instead of starting off on a tangent, Quirinamo said "Mute", clearly and crisply, and the TV's sound ceased while the picture remained.

Suddenly, his laptop beeped. He swiveled back to the desk and typed in his password to unlock the terminal. An email had arrived from a man Quirinamo admired quite greatly. They had never talked before, but Quirinamo felt a deep brotherhood with the man that he felt led Roach-Busters so righteously. Imperator J.L. I was waiting for a response.

The Imperator himself! Quirinamo thought, suddenly proud of himself to have the opportunity to talk with this great man. I must reply immediately! He hit the reply button and immediately began typing his response.

To: Imperator J.L. I (jl-mail@ultrasecure.rbgovserv.rb)
From: Marco Quirinamo (m.quirinamo@310.33.764.42)


Dearest Imperator,
I am humbled and honoured at your request for an audience. My party and I, myself, have long admired your stalwart defence of morality and righteousness in Roach-Busters. It would be a great pleasure to visit Roach-Busters, a country I have respected for ages and a country where I have fond memories from participating in the very first communist purge. Together, all governments of our political belief have worked hard to contain the menaces of liberal, marxist and communist government.

I have tried here in Pacitalia but our style of governance is just not catching on. And, regretfully, a coup attempt would be absolute suicide. It is sad that we must be happy with the seats we can scrounge in elections, such as the one today, but it is better than nothing. And we are certainly working to improve the prospects of Christian democracy in Pacitalia. I fear our country will become a cesspool of hell-bound individuals if we do not achieve higher representation in the two houses of legislative authority.

Other than that, I thank you for your compliments and look forward to seeing you soon. I will get on a plane tomorrow morning after the election. Perhaps you should watch for the final standing of the Partia di Traditionale?


Sincera in domina bene,

Marco Quirinamo
Party leader of the PdT

He pressed the call button on his phone system. "Marina?"

"Yes, sir?" came the electronically-converted voice in a reply.

"Book me two plane tickets to RB City, leaving tomorrow morning."

"Right away, sir."

He leaned back and savoured the last vestiges of his cigar before tossing it into the ashtray, then drained his scotch glass, stood up, gathered his briefcase and coat, and left his office. This week was going to be good.

A thin smile crossed the Imperator's face. He had accepted. Excellent! He was pleased. Quite pleased. Things were going well.

He spared no expense in preparing for his guest: a military parade, a chest filled with diamonds, gold, cobalt, uranium, rubies, sapphires, jade, emeralds, onyx, and pearls (altogether worth over $200,000,000), a buffet with over 5,000 foods prepared by the world's best chefs, a fireworks display, and much. His guest was guaranteed to be pleased with his visit.