NationStates Jolt Archive

Taking another hit off the blue glass bong, peering through the fog-like smoke permeating the office, Prez Cassady became aware of the relic of a movie camera recording all of what he was doing.

"Shit", he said as he zipped his pants and threw on a T-shirt. The shirt was one of his faves: an original hand-screened logo of the New Riders of the Purple Sage, circa 1971. His great-uncle Dick gave it to him on his 21st birthday which happened to be Uncle Dick's 97th birthday.

He pushed back his hair and tied it with a rubber band, coughed, and then was ready to speak.

"Like, hey, wow, everybody. Good to talk at ya again. Things are groovin' right along. We got new speakers in the office here, and all the First Tier Farms now have electricity. Don't worry.....it's been done with a kind eye towards Mom Nature. Or Mother Earth. Like, whatever."

He wasn't sure just how many people were watching him, nor did he really care. The overwhelming majority of his folks didn't have TVs, and the few that did didn't give a rat's ass about any form of government. Cassady figured that maybe two-to-three hundred people were tuned in.

"So, hey, like, a little news about the Squares. There's a few more of 'em these days. I heard that one or two of 'em are wearin' ties. Good thing theyr'e way the hell over on the other side of the country. Keep that shit to themselves."

He idly scratched his armpit, then looked at the camera again. "Like, I almost forgot why I'm here today. Listen up, people of other places. Me an' a couple of the heads thought it might be a far out thiing if we invited some other people from, like, some other places around near here. Like, y'know, other countries. So, if ya think you'd like to chill out and take a toke or two, drop by the main tent out in the Big Meadow. The one with the purple and yellow mandalas painted on it."

He dropped his head, apparently asleep, and 13 seconds later said, "OK. Cool. See ya later. Peace." He slid down onto the floor with his index and middle finger in the "V" sign. The camera went to a test pattern.........

Janus Love was the Aurum Doman Entertainment Adviser. She organized clubs and huge parties all across the country. Now she was travelign to meet these interesting Hippies. Drugs were illegal in Aurum Domus and almost none were ever smuggled in because of the tough anti drug taskforce. The only thing smoked in Aurum Domus was sugar. It gave the user an instant sugar rush and mild euphoria. Also, it wasn't harmfull at all, it was equivalent to drinking a lot of soda at once.

Janus was coming to introduce the sugar pipe to the Hippies and hopefully open up a new market. Her private jet entered Hippie airspace and radioed to the ground.

"Permission to land?"

A knock at his door forced Cassady out of the reverie he was in. He had been staring at a spider on his windowsill for about 20 minutes now, and was really into the creature's slight bouncing thing it had going on.

"Yeah...what's up?"

A girl stuck her head in the door. "Like, uh, there's a plane been circlin' aroung for about an hour. I think it wants to land, but, like, y'know, we 'aint got any runways around here where they could land, y'know? Like, maybe we should build a bonfire and maybe send up smoke signals, or sumpthin'?"

Cassady looked at her. Stoned again. It got annoying once in a while, but, hell, it was what they all wanted.

"OK, groovy. Here's what'll be happenin'. Get a bunch of the heads together and hand out the flags an' shit an' have 'em wave 'em around. Like, the mental transference will guide them to us and they land the plane safely....or somethin' like that. OK?"

The girl, whose name was Diane Von Gurstberg, but everybody called her Baby Diane, nodded her head rapidly. "Yeah...right, right, right! The flags! Like, later Prez." She trotted out of the room and was apparently moving a little too fast because she tripped on a curb and went sprawling on the weed-filled lawn of the Rainbow House. She started laughing, and the Prez started laughing, and soon there were fifty folks laughing their asses off.

A black dude named Johnny with the long twisted braids of the Rasta was strolling by and said, "You know, mon, dere's a jet been flyin' aroun' here, you know mon?"

They all looked at him and laughed all the harder. Johnny took a long hit off a six-inch doobie and said, "Mon, you guys are fucked up. Later wit you." He ambled off acroos the lawn.

In the meantime, the jet managed to find a place to land when they were sure that they wouldn't be shot down by the nation's air defense system.....

OOC: You have imagination...

I like that.

Oh, and your nation does have a coast... right?

IC: Andrei Sakharov was a mid-level Diplomatic flunkie who just happened to also be a Red Tide Mafia flunkie. The Red Tide Mafia, of course, delt plenty of drugs. He had been sent here with orders from both the Foreign Ministry and the RTM, in the former case, it was to establish relations with this nation, in the latter? Deal drugs to what probably would be the biggest drug market ever established.

Currently, the old freighter he was on creaked as it approached the coast. He was a bit nervous... how did he know the hippies would not attack him? In Red Tide, hippies were virtually none-existant... or were rebels(in the literal sense). For now, he waited.

OOC (I'm too tired to post any proper RP atm, tomorrow I prolly will):
Why would the hippies shoot him? They liiiike the drugs, right?

OOC: Is this invite only? I would like to send diplomats.

Grass Field

Janus and her guards walked off the plane and into the meadow. Janus was a bit pissed, she should've realised that hippies wouldn't have airports. Janus walked over and shook hands with the Hippy Delegation who, as expected, smelled heavily of marijuana.

"Hello, I am Janus, the Aurum Doman Entertainment Adviser, I want to shwo you something new to smoke. Something thats been an Aurum Doman custom for centuries."

Behind her several men were unloading crates full of sugar and glass pipes.

Grass Field

Janus and her guards walked off the plane and into the meadow. Janus was a bit pissed, she should've realised that hippies wouldn't have airports. Janus walked over and shook hands with the Hippy Delegation who, as expected, smelled heavily of marijuana.

"Hello, I am Janus, the Aurum Doman Entertainment Adviser, I want to shwo you something new to smoke. Something thats been an Aurum Doman custom for centuries."

Behind her several men were unloading crates full of sugar and glass pipes.


The "delegation" were just a bunch of heads skipping through the meadow...naked, covered in mud from the dip in the pond.

They stood there looking at the the chick who name was......what....Anus?....which made the heads crack up. "Like wow, man, you got something to smoke? Groovy. Somebody go get the Prez. He oughta be in on this, like, y'know?"

OOC: Is this invite only? I would like to send diplomats.


Far out, man. Send in the clowns....

OOC: You have imagination...

I like that.

Oh, and your nation does have a coast... right?

IC: Andrei Sakharov was a mid-level Diplomatic flunkie who just happened to also be a Red Tide Mafia flunkie. The Red Tide Mafia, of course, delt plenty of drugs. He had been sent here with orders from both the Foreign Ministry and the RTM, in the former case, it was to establish relations with this nation, in the latter? Deal drugs to what probably would be the biggest drug market ever established.

Currently, the old freighter he was on creaked as it approached the coast. He was a bit nervous... how did he know the hippies would not attack him? In Red Tide, hippies were virtually none-existant... or were rebels(in the literal sense). For now, he waited.



yeah, we have a coast. that's the place near the beach, right? yeah.....


ooc: and as far as my imagination goes, I was THERE during that time period. I just thought it might be interesting to blend my experiences of almost 40 years ago with an entire nation that lived that way. Neeto keen, huh?

Janus pulled a beautiful pipe made of green glass out of her pocket along with a small sugar packet. She packed down the rainbow colored powder tight then pressed a small button on the bottom of the pipe. The sugar began to vaporise and she inhaled slowly.

"You fellas wanna try this?"

Janus pulled a beautiful pipe made of green glass out of her pocket along with a small sugar packet. She packed down the rainbow colored powder tight then pressed a small button on the bottom of the pipe. The sugar began to vaporise and she inhaled slowly.

"You fellas wanna try this?"


The heads looked at each other. "Like,what the fuck, man. Your'e smokin' sugar. Don't ya know sugar's bad for you, man? It screws wit your head. We don't do shit like that."

"Yeah, we don't dig shit that messes wit the head. Witout the head, you fucked, y'know?"

The dude that seemed to be the leader held out a pipe. "Hey, Anus, here ya go. Take a couple of hits of this shit. Right from Thailand. 93% buds. It'll get ya high, dig?"

"Try mine first then I'll try yours. I guarantee you'll like it. It'll taste way better than your mary jay."

"Try mine first then I'll try yours. I guarantee you'll like it. It'll taste way better than your mary jay."


"Uh, Mary...what? You mean Mary Jane?"

Shores off of Them Hippy Folk

The helicopter took off, bringing the delegate and his translator to the mainland. After landing near a pond where several "hippies" were, Director Khorov thought, bathing. Until he saw the stack of condoms that weren't being used on the side. Goddamn it, what happened to these days in Theoroshia? He told his translator to ask someone where the "Prez" was. His translator walked up to one and said, "Like, yo, this place is groovy. I came, like, to meet the Prez, ya know?"

A pair of AV-18 Luna VTOL gunships flew low over the hippie camp before a Blackhawk helicopter came in behind them. As the Blackhawk landed, a door was thrown open from the side, and out stepped a pair of gray clad mercenaries, G36E's raised and pointed as the men took a quick sweep of the area. After determining the LZ secure, one ducked back into the chopper to tell of the news.

A pair of black jack boots stepped from the helicopter onto the grass. The man whom these belonged to was commander of the Griffincrest Internal Security Forces, Commander Reinhardt Hydraplate. His gray trenchcoat ruffled from the wind given off as the Blackhawk lifted up into the air.

Reinhardt stepped quickly to the first hippie he saw, and ordered "Bring me to your leader." His voice was harsh and sharp as he spoke to the man. He had no respect for these hippies, to him, they were only occupying space which could be used to benefit the corporation. Hydraplate did not come here for war, however, he came to talk.

"Fine, I'll play your game."

She snapped her fingers and her guards produced AMP-1 personal defense weapons from there coats.

"Try it and we'll have no problem, if you refuse again you will be shot."

Janus had a good idea, if they wouldn't buy the product then they would be killed and stripped of their lands. Aurum Domus was always looking for new colonies.

From the corner of his eye, Director Khorov had seen another nation pull weapons on the hippies. His security detail, while numbering less, had the element of surprise, and took up positions in various shrubs and trees to cover the director. He walked up to the leader, a woman, and proclaimed, "Now, comrades, why pull weapons on these poor fellows? Surely, something can be arranged so that these lands aren't stained with blood."

"Stay out of this, its not like were really gonna shoot them, its just intimidation."

"Well, actually m'am, I had a proposal. We could shoot them, then blame it on something else. The other hippies would be too drugged up to realized what happened. Meanwhile, you can sell your drugs and I can take over-I mean, converse with the 'Prez'. Whaddya say?"

Meanwhile, the two hippies were staring at a tree, stoned out of their minds on LSD.

"I have a better idea, we use our combined forces to take over this little country and split it 50/50. This place is perfect to grow illegal drugs out of the public eye. We could generate a sizeable income for each of our countries governments. If anyone else is in the area we should call them and offer to pay for their services as mercenaries."

Shores off of Them Hippy Folk

The helicopter took off, bringing the delegate and his translator to the mainland. After landing near a pond where several "hippies" were, Director Khorov thought, bathing. Until he saw the stack of condoms that weren't being used on the side. Goddamn it, what happened to these days in Theoroshia? He told his translator to ask someone where the "Prez" was. His translator walked up to one and said, "Like, yo, this place is groovy. I came, like, to meet the Prez, ya know?"


Six sets of bloodshot eyes stared emptily at this new arrival. Finally, one managed to mutter, "You 'aint from around here, are you?"

The translator had been left behind, of course, to determine where the "Prez" was.

"Like, no. I'm from, like, a far out place." He pulled out some LSD, and offered it to the nearest hippy. "You, like, want some man?"

The Director stared at the (attractive) women. "I like the way you think." He shoved forward his hand. "Do we have a deal, Comrade?"

A low humming sound rose in the distance as a white limousine with an elaborate metal grille moved overland towards the camp. It was suspended above the ground about 2 feet, hovering with some kind of novel levitation device. As it drove, it kicked up clouds of dust and one could almost see the carbon dioxide produced from its levitation engine. It came to a stop, and out stepped a slender, rather frail man impeccably dressed in a fine tailored suit.

Surveying the situation, he said quite loudly "Oh, not again...for God's sake, can't anyone on this damned planet do something without dragging weapons in to it? Ah, where are my manners? I am Alexei Ordulov, Consul for the Ministry of State in Vetalia. The Proconsul is off in Generia, so he has sent me to deal with the...ahem...hippies. Pleased to meet you all, especially you, Commander Reinhardt."

"And in case you are interested, the car is a new prototype for Vetalia Motor's new hovercar coming out next year. Produces dreadful amounts of smog and the engines are loaded with toxic metals, but as I always say you've got to spend money to make money." Pulling a 50 solaris note from his clasp, he gave it to the chauffeur of his car "Park it in that field over there, Vladimir. I know the grass is dry, but if it catches fire just vent the exhaust to create a firebreak."

"Now, where were we?"

"Deal."

Janus shook the man's hand.

"I see victory in our future, let me call High Command to get an official approval. They were hoping for something like this all along."

Janus picked up a satelite phone and within moments had gotten the go ahead to take over.

The Director had done the same. Dragging his now stoned translator away from the hippies, he hopped back into the helicopter and back onto the ASW frigate TFN Orion. Soon, a landing force would arrive and take control of the small nation. There was no resistance planned, so only light vehicles would be used if needed. It would most likely be bloodless.

---
New Leningrad, Port City in Theoroshia

A small task force of two Ural class battleships and ten Cobra class troop transports left port, heading for a rendesvouz with the Spectra class ASW frigate.

"Oh, a war! I take it you're not going to bomb that ridge over there,right? It's got a perfect view of the camp and a lovely copse of shade trees at the top."

Pausing, he removed his cell phone. "Vladimir, set up my tea service, chair, and umbrella...there's a war going on. Oh, and make the Assam this time, it's the best for international fisticuffs and the best for hot days. I know you don't need the reminder, but make sure to put the milk and tea in before the hot water. No, no I don't need the car, I can walk. Thank you, Vlad."

"If you need me, I will be on yonder ridge observing the hostilities. Good day."

Prime Minister's Question Time in Parliament

"Prime Minister Hutchins, what is your government's stance on the newly discovered nation of Them Hippy Folk?"

Hutchins looked visibly disgusted as he spoke, "Fucking Hippies".

"So your government will noty pursue relations with this nation?"

"Of course not, Hippies are loathsome people just a slightly better than communists and socialists and you know my feelings on that."

Prez Cassady watched the entire proceedings from the bunker below the Rainbow House. He grinned lazily and said to no one in particular, "That's the problem these squareheads have. They think just because they have guns that they can mess with those who don't............at least they THINK they don't. They don't realize that if I don't want them in my reality, they will be erased from it."

He was tapping out the drum solo from 'Inagaddadavida' when he switched to the one finger, the middle one, which after he finished giving it to the intruders, used it to press a button on his day-glo console.

In just a few seconds, small sprinkler heads surrounding the intruders began sprinkling them with what seemed to be cool, clear water. The most beligerant of them fired a few shots at the water, with little effect.

In about a minute, the sprinklers turned themselves off, the assholes looking for a fight now thoroughly soaked. Cassady looked at the sun dial out on the patio. "Heh....just a few more seconds...."

It started with the first bunch clawing at the air, cat-like. Others were seeming to be picking flowers out of thin air, smiling as they did so. In less than a minute, most of them had most of their clothes off and a few had joined the hippies who were stoned on the acid, looking intently at the trees.

That's because THEY were now stoned on acid, at a dosage that would probably kill them in just a few minutes. The normal, average dose was a milligram or so. They chumps had been dosed with a concentrate of 16,250 milligrams, blended with a a slightly viscous dampening agent. Simply put, it made water wetter. More permeable action across the miniscus. The lysergic acid entered through the skin through pores that were now slicker than a lubed snatch.

Prez Cassady had a grim look on his face. "I just wanted to have a little fun. Y'know, shoot the shit. Meet and greet the outside world. But no. These assholes hadda bring the outside world's shit with 'em." He turned to his VP. "Well Jack, at least we know your'e shit works."

Vice-Prez Jackie Owlsley had a shit-eating grin on his face. "Yeah, those fuckers are as good as dead, but it'll be better than the death they had planned for us."

The fun and games began to turn to terror for the intruders. Gone were the blissful stares, the warm, fuzzy feelings. They were rapidly being replaced with eyes bugging out of their heads, screeching, high-pitched yelling, and most running away from hideous monsters that only they could see. Some ran into trees, some ran off the 35-foot cliff over by the river. A bunch of them started fighting each other.

Soon, all was again quiet and peaceful, the intruders dead. Cassady was very sad, but he did what he had to do..............


ooc: OK, your'e all dead. Don't try to come up with sudden antidotes or anything like that. I've been around NS longer than you think, probably longer than all of you put together. So be good sports and take a hike. I want this thread to go on for a while before I let it go.

For a moment, the scout helicopter couldn't believe what he was seeing. A man was sitting on a ridge, sipping tea! He reported the incident to his commander, who asked the Director if he knew the man.

"Ah, yes. The man from Vetalia. He said something about 'enjoying the view' before I left. Best make sure you don't kill him, Comrades. We wouldn't want Vetalia to come after us."

---
The scout helicopter returned, dropping pamphlets on him that said:

"NOTICE - There is a war going on. Please, seek refuge in your home nation. Although this conflict will be bloodless, we wouldn't want any..mistakes...to happen."

OOC: On a much more serious note...

IC: Andrei stepped off the rowboat and onto the beach.

"Goddamn hippies dont even know how to build a goddamn port." He said in Russian, then shrugged, "Nichevo..."

He looked around for a moment, spotted a group of hippies and walked over to them. And began to speak in Russian-accented English.

"I am the representative of the Totalitarian State of Red Tide. May I meet your..." He paused, and then, akwardly, "Prez?"

OOC2: Assume this is taking place far away from Blackhelm, Vetelia, and the rest of the joint.

OOC: Might want to get out. Dunno if these hippies will fight back at our forced take over :\

OOC: Meh, I planned on having the Red Tide Mafia exploiut them via drug trade... I didnt have anything along the lines of conquest, but I cant modify my plans.

The Intellegince-Commissarat would have a field day.

Janus and her men returned to their plane to setup a base. There were 25 men total, defiently not enough to control a country. 500 Marine Special Forces would paradrop in within the hour. Janus had been given a field commision as a Lieutenant General and would command the forces that would lead this hopefully bloodless takeover.

ooc: I just made a reply post to your aggression, but it seems the Mods are considering censoring me. They won't let what I wrote be posted until they read it. So chill for a bit. Suffice it to say that I came up with a bloodless way of killing all of you in less than 2 minutes. Rather clever, if you ask me.....

The frigate only had a hundred Theoroshian Marines (TMAR's), but the takeover was planned to be bloodless. They were already on the ground, and orders were sent out to rendesvouz with the Domus marines at their base camp.

OOC: Sorry, didn't see your post.

ooc: I just made a reply post to your aggression, but it seems the Mods are considering censoring me. They won't let what I wrote be posted until they read it. So chill for a bit. Suffice it to say that I came up with a bloodless way of killing all of you in less than 2 minutes.

OOC: Thats standard new guy procedure, actually. The mods review your posts until you have enough of them. I dont know how manyh posts you need to, you know, stop the review thing.

And I would suggest everyone stop posting until 'Them Hippy Folks' post can go up.

OOC: Thats standard new guy procedure, actually. The mods review your posts until you have enough of them. I dont know how manyh posts you need to, you know, stop the review thing.

And I would suggest everyone stop posting until 'Them Hippy Folks' post can go up.


ooc: I've been on NS for over 3 years, and this is the 1st time I've ever seen a new nation treated this way. And believe me, I've created quite a few nations over he years.

ooc: OK, here's the gist of the censored post:

I had a sprinkler system pop up and soak you all down with 6,000 times the normal dosage of LSD, which was accelerated into your system via a wetting agent. For about 20 seconds, all was wonderful, then you all went berserk and overloaded you brain synapses. Your'e all dead, and peace again reigns over Them Hippy Folk.
Please don't keep up this silly "Im gonna take you over because your'e helpless and stupid" thing. I'll just ignore you. I want to keep this concept going for a while.

You dig?

OOC: From what I hear your first 10 posts are screened now to cut back on the noobish "OMG I nukes teh world:sniper::mp5::sniper::mp5::gundge:" type threads.

I still hate hippies though.

OOC: From what I hear your first 10 posts are screened now to cut back on the noobish "OMG I nukes teh world:sniper::mp5::sniper::mp5::gundge:" type threads.

I still hate hippies though.

ooc: well, that's a good thing, but they haven't released the post that was being held for review. That sucks.

(OOC: they actually did release the original post, I think. I just read it.
Prez Cassady watched the entire proceedings from the bunker below the Rainbow House. He grinned lazily and said to no one in particular, "That's the problem these squareheads have. They think just because they have guns that they can mess with those who don't............at least they THINK they don't. They don't realize that if I don't want them in my reality, they will be erased from it."

He was tapping out the drum solo from 'Inagaddadavida' when he switched to the one finger, the middle one, which after he finished giving it to the intruders, used it to press a button on his day-glo console.

In just a few seconds, small sprinkler heads surrounding the intruders began sprinkling them with what seemed to be cool, clear water. The most beligerant of them fired a few shots at the water, with little effect.

In about a minute, the sprinklers turned themselves off, the assholes looking for a fight now thoroughly soaked. Cassady looked at the sun dial out on the patio. "Heh....just a few more seconds...."

It started with the first bunch clawing at the air, cat-like. Others were seeming to be picking flowers out of thin air, smiling as they did so. In less than a minute, most of them had most of their clothes off and a few had joined the hippies who were stoned on the acid, looking intently at the trees.

That's because THEY were now stoned on acid, at a dosage that would probably kill them in just a few minutes. The normal, average dose was a milligram or so. They chumps had been dosed with a concentrate of 16,250 milligrams, blended with a a slightly viscous dampening agent. Simply put, it made water wetter. More permeable action across the miniscus. The lysergic acid entered through the skin through pores that were now slicker than a lubed snatch.

Prez Cassady had a grim look on his face. "I just wanted to have a little fun. Y'know, shoot the shit. Meet and greet the outside world. But no. These assholes hadda bring the outside world's shit with 'em." He turned to his VP. "Well Jack, at least we know your'e shit works."

Vice-Prez Jackie Owlsley had a shit-eating grin on his face. "Yeah, those fuckers are as good as dead, but it'll be better than the death they had planned for us."

The fun and games began to turn to terror for the intruders. Gone were the blissful stares, the warm, fuzzy feelings. They were rapidly being replaced with eyes bugging out of their heads, screeching, high-pitched yelling, and most running away from hideous monsters that only they could see. Some ran into trees, some ran off the 35-foot cliff over by the river. A bunch of them started fighting each other.

Soon, all was again quiet and peaceful, the intruders dead. Cassady was very sad, but he did what he had to do..............


ooc: OK, your'e all dead. Don't try to come up with sudden antidotes or anything like that. I've been around NS longer than you think, probably longer than all of you put together. So be good sports and take a hike. I want this thread to go on for a while before I let it go.

If that's your post, then yes, they did allow it through. Oh, and I'm officially tagging this thread for a later IC post.)

(OOC: they actually did release the original post, I think. I just read it.


If that's your post, then yes, they did allow it through. Oh, and I'm officially tagging this thread for a later IC post.)

Yep, that's it. It didn't show up on my computer. I'll be busy most of the day, but will post some groovy shit later....

OOC: That post sounds like BS to me, you can't call our deaths, thats godmodding.

OOC: That post sounds like BS to me, you can't call our deaths, thats godmodding.


#1....godmodding will be hard to prove since I've not used any WMD or FT.

#2...Then you call the deaths....either way, your'e neutralized, because...

#3...It's my thread.



This is a conceptual thread. I asked for nations who wanted to chat about this and that in a peaceful manner. You guys came in all ready to conquer me and split up the nation. Did you really think I was going to let that happen?
If you want to restate your posts, fine. Have a beer and a hit or two on the bong, great. Otherwise, stay the hell out. You'll just be IGNORED.

ooc- can i go into this rp or is it too late?

ooc- can i go into this rp or is it too late?


The strobe light was sending a pulse through their very souls. All were digging the tunes: the Dead and Airplane were jammin', joints were being passed around , and it was just the grooviest...............

Cassady and Owlsley were about to enter the WarpZone (a bar) when a head appoached them with a slip of paper in his hand. "Hey, like, these dudes from New Brittania is asking permission to make the scene." Something flew out of his long, tangled hair as he took a hit of ganja.

"Ah, shit man. What the fuck have I done. Like, now everyone wants to see the freaks."

"Yeah, dig it. But, y'know, maybe we can have a rule where they pay to get in."

Cassady looked at him agast. "Did I just hear you use the "R" word? No friggin' rules here man, you know that. Our ancestors had enough of Tricky Dick and his fuckin' Nazi shit."

"OK, ok, no rules. Call it an entry fee. Maybe a load of dope or some cool tunes. Sumptin' like that, ya know?"

"Yeah, sounds like a cool move." He scribbled on the note. "Get this to whoever Brittonia is and have 'em bring us a brick or two of Thai Stick. Capeesh?"

The freak looked at him. "Wha....?"

"Never mind, dude, just bring this note back where you got it, dig?"

"Oh, yeah, man. Sure. Later."

The Prez and VP headed into the bar. "Man,that was too much work. Need a beer....."

John Macked looked at this new nation, that was a Hippie Nation and he shook his head and said "It won't last long, it won't be around longer then the QCS, but I guess as I'm the Foreign Relation's minister, I've gotta bring my electric guitar, and play some Jimi Hendrix..." He picked up the phone and dialed the Hippie Nation....

"Hmm, curious. Apparently, everyone has died. Funny that, eh Vladimir? Not much of a war, was it?"
"It is rather amusing, sir."
"Ah, well, no matter that, I suppose I can return to Vetalia now and collect my generous bonus for this...diplomatic mission. When I get back, 1.5 million fresh solaris will be in my bank account all at taxpayer expense."
"Vlad, prepare the car, we're getting out of here."
"Of course, sir."

The hovercar accelerated and bounded over the hills, heading back to the coast where it would be loaded on a ship bound for Vetalia while the Consul himself boarded a helicopter for transport to the nearest airport. All in all, a good day.

OOC: Why didn't you say "No conflicts please?". I woulda complied. Just ignore my posts then ;)

John Macked looked at this new nation, that was a Hippie Nation and he shook his head and said "It won't last long, it won't be around longer then the QCS, but I guess as I'm the Foreign Relation's minister, I've gotta bring my electric guitar, and play some Jimi Hendrix..." He picked up the phone and dialed the Hippie Nation....


The phone behind the bar rang, a minor miracle in itself. Larry the barkeep picked it up..."hello? hello? This friggin' thing don't work."

Cassady sighed. "Turn it the other way, man. You got it upside down."

With a sheepish grin, Larry said, "Heh, stoned again. It's for you, Prez."

Cassady knocked back a 2-ouncer of Mezcal (on fire, of course) and grabbed the phone. "Yeah, whattya want?" He listened. Then laughed. "Yeah, right. You play Hendrix. The only way to do that is upside down and backwards, you dig?" He listened some more. "Yeah, whatever. See ya when you get here."

Owlsley grinned. "Another Jimi wannabe?"

"Yeah, but hey, ya never know, y'know?"

"I can dig it. Like, who's that chick over there? Never seen her around before." He pointed at the girl in the embroidered tube-top and granny glasses.

Cassady squinted. "Dunno, man. Wanna take her back to the pad and bang her?"

"Nah....I just sense there's somethin', like, narkish about her."

"Your'e paranoid, dude. We don't have to worry about that shit anymore, dig?"

"Still, we should keep an eye out, y'know?"

"Yeah, okay, cool. You keep an eye on her. I'll go rub up against her......."

OOC: Why didn't you say "No conflicts please?". I woulda complied. Just ignore my posts then ;)

ooc: I honestly didn't think that all of you would descend on me that quickly. If ya want to chill, welcome back (with a new delegation).

ooc: I've been on NS for over 3 years, and this is the 1st time I've ever seen a new nation treated this way. And believe me, I've created quite a few nations over he years.

OOC it covered in this link
http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=511850

OOC: I hope the OOC trouble is over ^^

IC: The phone to the hippie 'prez' would once more ring.

"This is a representative of....whoa, it's like....we're Jarawa. We want like....you know...stuff...like cultural exchange anthropology....and other stuff..."

Prime Minister David Flower walked down the stairs of the 747 and yelled,
"So I heard you guys got some nice hash!"

OOC: Thanks, but not thanks. The last thing this country needs is it's Ministers of Relations getting high off of LSD and coke =)

John Macked arrived in a armed F-4D model that he flew, he flew it to make an impression on the hippies that he meant buisness, he landed, and the thrust reverser's made a noise so loud, that the hippie's could deny, the Foreign Minister of Calizorinstan was there... He hopped out of his jet, MR-6300 Commando Rifle in hand, and smoking a ciggereate, he said "I'm here, if anybody care's!"

OOC: I hope the OOC trouble is over ^^

IC: The phone to the hippie 'prez' would once more ring.

"This is a representative of....whoa, it's like....we're Jarawa. We want like....you know...stuff...like cultural exchange anthropology....and other stuff..."


Owlsley hung his head. "Man, I got no friggin' clue about this one. Sounds like a surfer dude without the brains. He wants somethin' about anthropology cultures."

"Hmmmf.....is that a drug? Never heard of that one."

"OK, listen, man. You wanna come on over and chill for a while and we'll try and figure out just what in the hell your gig is, dig?"

"Theyr'e fuckin' comin' outta the woodwork, dude. This place is about to get weird."

Prime Minister David Flower walked down the stairs of the 747 and yelled,
"So I heard you guys got some nice hash!"


A half-dozen freaks were playing naked frisbee when they noticed that a 747 had landed. "Whoa, where'd THAT come from?" They gathered around the steps of the jet and looked up when a guy in a flowered Hawaiian shirt and clam-diggers started yelling about hash.

The heads looked at each other. "This guys fuckin' weird, man. "Hey, bro, we got all the hash you can handle. Come on over to the pad and we'll do an ounce, dig?"

John Macked arrived in a armed F-4D model that he flew, he flew it to make an impression on the hippies that he meant buisness, he landed, and the thrust reverser's made a noise so loud, that the hippie's could deny, the Foreign Minister of Calizorinstan was there... He hopped out of his jet, MR-6300 Commando Rifle in hand, and smoking a ciggereate, he said "I'm here, if anybody care's!"


Dave and his buddies were relaxing under a banyan tree when the fighter jet landed. "Man, that's a friggin' loud-ass plane."

The pilot jumped out, all crew-cut, cigarette in hand, letting everyone within earshot know that he was here.

"Shit, GI Joe's here. Look at his head....he's got no hair. An' he's smokin' a cigarette! Don't he know that butts 'aint good for him?"


Dave (the other Dave) shouted, "Hey man, you know, like, guns and shit like that 'aint welcome here. Leave it in the plane and come take a couple hits of this hash. Mellow out, dude."

John slung it over his shoulder and said "I need protection over here, in a foreign nation, there's no telling what can happen, got it?, gun's now welcomed here......., heh, I'll just put it back in the airplane..." He put it back underneath the ejection seat, so they couldn't steal it, and he walked back toward's them, continuing to smoke and said, "Like a ciggie?"

Roughly sixty feet above a great big, hippie-filled field, an ancient Soviet-era helicopter hung. One could only barely call the scrap-heap floating there a helicopter at all, in fact. It was probably more duct tape, gum, and various little springy bits - you know, the kind that don't seem to be for anything but are always around - than it was military engineering.

Such was the state of much of the newly broken-away state of Northern Yamalia's military equipment, and seemingly self-appointed Foreign Minister Fedko Uladyka just had to deal with it. The new government had hardly stabilized itself, let alone appointed ministers or even worked out the kinks of whatever kind of government the leader of the rebellion, Timokha Vlazen, decided on. Besides, Fedko was one of the very few Yamalians who spoke English anyway. It seemed a natural 'appointment'.

Now, in the interests of international recognition, establishing ties with foreign leaders, and generally feeling about in the dark that was global diplomacy without stubbing any toes, Mr. Uladyka was floating just sixty feet above a field, in an almost-helicopter.

As the hulking Mi-8 transport descended, it began to groan and the only mildly angry hum that was the engine turned into the cacophonous roar. It was obvious this almost-helicopter was as aware of it's failure as the perturbed nudists around it and the frightened passengers inside.

Finally, the beast touched down, and its engine gave a final clunk! of defeat. Smoke began to pour from various vents, and it was generally agreed upon that it would be prudent to vacate the vehicle as fast as possible.

Mr. Uladyka, his two pilots, a diplomatic aide, and an unarmed bodyguard all stumbled out of the smoke and steel in a quite un-diplomatic manner, accompanied by what bystanders could only assume were swear words in Russian.

Finally free of his deathtrap, the Foreign Minister, flanked by his aide, busy stuffing papers and notes in and out of far to many folders and briefcases and the tall, bald, and generally Russian-looking bodyguard, strode over to the nearest local.

"Hello, sir, may I take direction to your place of government?" Fedko asked in what was likely the best English in North Yamalia.

Behind him, the two pilots were frantically scrambling about the now thoroughly defeated helicopter. More swearing ensued.

OOC: I've got an arrival post here, the mods just have to look it over 'cuz this is a newb account. Consider this tagg'd.

EDIT: There it is!

Roughly sixty feet above a great big, hippie-filled field, an ancient Soviet-era helicopter hung. One could only barely call the scrap-heap floating there a helicopter at all, in fact. It was probably more duct tape, gum, and various little springy bits - you know, the kind that don't seem to be for anything but are always around - than it was military engineering.

Such was the state of much of the newly broken-away state of Northern Yamalia's military equipment, and seemingly self-appointed Foreign Minister Fedko Uladyka just had to deal with it. The new government had hardly stabilized itself, let alone appointed ministers or even worked out the kinks of whatever kind of government the leader of the rebellion, Timokha Vlazen, decided on. Besides, Fedko was one of the very few Yamalians who spoke English anyway. It seemed a natural 'appointment'.

Now, in the interests of international recognition, establishing ties with foreign leaders, and generally feeling about in the dark that was global diplomacy without stubbing any toes, Mr. Uladyka was floating just sixty feet above a field, in an almost-helicopter.

As the hulking Mi-8 transport descended, it began to groan and the only mildly angry hum that was the engine turned into the cacophonous roar. It was obvious this almost-helicopter was as aware of it's failure as the perturbed nudists around it and the frightened passengers inside.

Finally, the beast touched down, and its engine gave a final clunk! of defeat. Smoke began to pour from various vents, and it was generally agreed upon that it would be prudent to vacate the vehicle as fast as possible.

Mr. Uladyka, his two pilots, a diplomatic aide, and an unarmed bodyguard all stumbled out of the smoke and steel in a quite un-diplomatic manner, accompanied by what bystanders could only assume were swear words in Russian.

Finally free of his deathtrap, the Foreign Minister, flanked by his aide, busy stuffing papers and notes in and out of far to many folders and briefcases and the tall, bald, and generally Russian-looking bodyguard, strode over to the nearest local.

"Hello, sir, may I take direction to your place of government?" Fedko asked in what was likely the best English in North Yamalia.

Behind him, the two pilots were frantically scrambling about the now thoroughly defeated helicopter. More swearing ensued.


The freaks and other head-type people were suffering from pains in the neck. Partially because of the very loud noises from the jet on one side of the meadow and the copter on the other. "What the fuck..." was on the faces of most of them.

Baby Diane was staring at what appeared to be a Russki. Sounded like Boris Badenov, so he HAD to be Russki. "Hey, you guys Commies?"

She was distracted by what sounded like swearing in Russian, and the guy again asked about her government. "Oh, you want the head dudes. That'd be Prez Neil Cassady and VP Owlsley. Last I saw 'em they were skinny dippin' in the pond with the new Folks from up north." She noticed he was looking at her without much understanding. "OK, look, Boris, theyr'e over there. See/ By the pond."

As she pointed the way, he began walking rapidly towards a bunch of muddy freaks, his body guard in tow.............

Soon after John had landed, a F-105G, with a J75 engine, landed, and parked next to the F-4D, and it was Jenny Macked his wife, she was in a flight suit and helmet, and walked up to him and the hippies and she said "Where's your Prez?" She had looked up hippie terms beforehand, so they wouldn't make a embarrasment of themselves.

Soon after John had landed, a F-105G, with a J75 engine, landed, and parked next to the F-4D, and it was Jenny Macked his wife, she was in a flight suit and helmet, and walked up to him and the hippies and she said "Where's your Prez?" She had looked up hippie terms beforehand, so they wouldn't make a embarrasment of themselves.


At the approach of the chick pilot, the heads laughed out loud. "Hey! Dig it! First G.I. Joe, then his main squeeze, G.I. Jane! This is far friggin' out, man!"

One freak wasn't laughing, though. In all truth, he wasn't one of the Folk. He looked like a freak, talked like a freak, even smelled like a freak, but he was from the small far northern tribe called The Citizens. The Folk called them The Suits. They were not as happy-go-lucky as the Folk were. They were far more serious about government, law and order, and decency. Though they numbered only a few hundred, far less than the eight million Folk, they had plans.........

His name was Gerard Smythe back in Tribe Citizen. Here he was called Simple John, because he didn't say much. He hadn't gotten to the previous visitors before they were rendered catatonic by the LSD sprinklers, but here was his opportunity to establish contact with outsiders. He furtively waved his hands at the newcomers, hoping one of them would see him............

John and Jenny went over the man waving his hand's and John and Jenny introduced themselves to him, and John said "Pretty crazy place, eh?"

John and Jenny went over the man waving his hand's and John and Jenny introduced themselves to him, and John said "Pretty crazy place, eh?"

Gerard gazed at the outsiders without blinking, scrutinizing them with a look that could be considered contentious. "Crazy? This is nothing. You should see them when theyr'e at one of their three-day Tripps Festivals. Lawlessness and debauchery at it's finest. There are those of us who are sick of it, but we are few and history doesn't support our coming to power in this or the next century. What I need from you two is simple information. What it's like in other nations. You see, we have no outside communication here, aside from the device that the 'Prez' has locked in his office." He glanced sideways at the crowd, now slipping and sliding through the muck at th edge of the pond. A lone freak was watching the trio.

"We can't talk here. These people may seem innocuous to you, but I know better. Later, by the big rock in the woods across from the Prez's Rainbow House. Just after sundown." He hurried away with the freak still watching the two outsiders. He turned to follow the Suit, casually taking his time, keeping him in sight......

Reggie Merduque, nick-name "El Duque" followed the Guy from Citizen for about a half-mile, then turned back when it was obvious where he was headed. The Chevy Rock, in the small but heavily wooded area just a hundred yards or so from the Rainbow House. Legend held that it was a genuine piece of a monument from the old USA. South Dakota, if he recalled correctly.

"Merde...I do not like zis," he mumbled to himself. There was absolutely no reason for him to have a french accent......he just dug it. Reggie was from one of the sub-tribes of The Folk called the Sneaks. Not because they were furtive, secretive or anything, but because they all wore either red or black high-top Keds sneakers. Their claim to fame was that two of the Merry Pranksters were from Sneaks.

The Merry Pranksters. If any of the heads and freaks had any aspirations at all, it was to be recognized as a Merry Prankster. Their entire civilization was based on them and their leader, Ken Kesey. Today, the great-great grand-daughter of Kesey was still leading them in things prankish. She ran most of the larger Tripps festivals, and was rumoured to have a thing for Prez Neil Cassady XIV, whose great-grandfather was main bud to Kesey.

Kazandra Kesey was a beauty by anybody's standards. A thick, auburn head of hair flowing down to her knees, 5'7" tall, and a figure that would haunt you day and night. Piercing blue/violet eyes that saw into your very soul. Some called her a witch. Truth be told, she had definate Wiccan leanings. Hell, her great-great grand mother was Mountain Girl of the Pranksters.


Reggie pulled himself back from his reverie. "Zoot! I must get to the Prez and zen back 'ere. Troble is afoot!" He had a touch of the dramatic in him as well............

Secretary of State Pepper Haynes arrived from Overbecland with a sweet-smelling crate and a message from Chancellor Olbracht:

"Representing a nation with an extensive hippie population and one of the largest Burning Man festivals in the NS world, I welcome you! As a token of our goodwill please accept this gift from us: 420 pounds of our finest marijuana, cultivated from the choicest crops around the Nowell metropolitan area."