| Southern Onion: AnOnion |
AnOnion prefers to stay anonymous, writes for the Southern Onion, and likes to take heavy satirical jabs at government officials and other members of our region. ![[Image: XXPV74Y.png?1]](https://i.imgur.com/XXPV74Y.png?1)
MoRA: Into the Chaos of Burger Wrappers (AnOnion; Vol 1, Issue 1)
by AnOnion In this in depth issue of Government Island, this Onion reporter went undercover as a janitor to bring you the inside scoop in a first person perspective of the offices of The South Pacific’s heads and minds, and what kind of mess they throw away. As I walked up to the large front doors denoting the Regional Affairs head offices, the hairs on my arm stood up. There seemed to be a small buzz in the air at the offices. I peered through the glass doors, but saw no action. I adjusted the cap on my head, took a deep breath, and pushed past the doors. The offices were eerily quiet. The receptionist desk was empty. I took this time to adjust the wire under my janitorial uniform. I called out to see if anyone was around, but no answer came my way. I decided to delve deeper. I came up to door locked by a keycard reader. I tried the door, to find it unlocked. I walked into the offices to see rows and rows of empty cubicles. After a quick look around, I see the office floor is separated into sections. Some of the sections of the offices seem dilapidated and forgotten, looking like there has not been a staff member in that department for many terms. And yet, curiously, I saw a what seemed to be newly built cubicles; a section trying to keep the offices afloat. There was even paper and garbage in the proper receptacles. Still however, there did not seem to be a soul around. My journalistic instinct was tingling, so I decided to try and find the executive offices of the building, with hopes to bump into the minister himself. I have never met the minister personally, and as far as I was able to investigate previously neither have many people living in the South Pacific. I heard he was an excitable fellow, but nobody has actually seen any of his work. I venture through another lackluster security door into the executive branch. I heard the buzzing of conversation. Excited to finally find something, I walked towards the noise. I found myself in a common room of sorts, a television was blaring a soap opera in the top corner. I sat and stared, watching the Drama for a bit, before I heard footsteps behind me. “It’s all reruns, you know. The people that work here aren’t known to like that kind of show, but we keep it on anyway.” I was surprised to see someone, making a coffee. I politely introduced myself to this person. Not missing a single opportunity, I take the chance to interview what may be the only person I will find in the offices. I asked him a question about the offices. “Oh, this old thing? The foundations are still good, but we’ve been trying to clean up the cobwebs now and then. The turnaround in this place is pretty bad, but we’re keeping our chin up with new projects and brighter ideas for the future.” I asked him about the older projects, and why the turnaround was bad. “Older projects? I don’t know what you’re talking about. The plans for them have been keep in the back storage for so long, I’m not sure I know where exactly they are or what they are.” He took a quick sip of his coffee “And we have a team working on recruitment, that’s all I know” I walked towards the bin in the corner to see if there was any garbage, trying my best not to blow my cover. As I peered into the bin, I ask them about the Minister. “Oh, he’s around. We don’t see him much; he’s usually locked up in his office, I think, and nobody really hears much about what he’s up to. We just get internal memos now and then about stuff happening, but nothing too grand.” I thanked the person, and told him I had to go on my union regulated break. He smiled, and I had a feeling he was happy just being able to talk to someone from the outside. I made my way back out the doors and outside to the courtyard of the building. As I exited the building and stood in the surprisingly well kept grounds, I looked up. I saw a man, important looking and in a suit, suspended above the roof holding four ropes; trying to keep the roof from caving in.
Anonionmous would be a good name as well.
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
ProfessorHenn
Legislator
Very well done! Great piece of comical writing yet still being true to being investigative. I look forward to seeing what's next for this publication!
Above all else, I hope to be a decent person.
Has Been What's Next? CoA: August 2016-January 2017
Minister of Foreign Affairs: October 2019-June 2020, October 2020- February 2021
MoFA: Dude, Where’s My Office? (AnOnion; Vol 1, Issue 2)
by AnOnion In this in depth issue of Government Island, this Onion reporter went undercover as a janitor to bring you the inside scoop in a first person perspective of the offices of The South Pacific’s heads and minds, and what kind of mess they throw away. Honestly, readers, I had a hard time finding the Foreign Affairs offices. I used the GPS on my cellphone for hours, and kept getting turned around and put through many looping streets to find the offices. It was quite a ways drive away from the heart of the hustle and bustle of the central government hub. After a couple of hours of disorienting directions, and many curse words thrown, I finally came up to a long dirt road. A sign was posted next to the entrance of the road, hanging off one hinge: “Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Caution: Road Unfinished. Enter at Own Risk”
I continued down the long, bumpy road, and came up to a locked gate. I exited my car and continued on foot. The trip continued for another hour walk. Eventually, I came up to a high fence with a small door, slightly ajar. More signs greeted me at the entrance. Some new, some old and some with lines of paint through them: Foreign Affairs
Please Leave all Complaints at the Door
Ambassadors Welcome Please leave all Embassy Requests at the Door
Jobs available! Apply within! No Trespassing Unless on Official Business
I took a deep breath and pushed past the small door. I was greeted by a field of unkempt grass and an abundance of wild flora. I looked around to find no building, so I decided to keep walking forward, the wild thorns creating small tears on my janitorial uniform. As I continued to curse my way through the underbrush for what seemed like forever, I finally found myself before a small, wooden cottage. Behind it was a large array of communication satellites, each satellite labelled with a foreign region name in big letters. I decided to take a closer look, to find the wild flora was slowly creeping up the satellites, vines trying to reclaim their lost territory. The only satellite to look relatively clean was labeled ‘NSGP’. I decided to try and knock on the cabin door. I took a few tries, but finally the door opened a sliver, kept that way by what appeared to be many chains and locking mechanisms. Before I could get a word in, the person on the other side of the door cried out. “Who are you? What do you want?” I explained to the person that I was part of the janitorial services, but they quickly cut me off before I can finish. “I don’t want what you’re selling. Get off my property.” They quickly slammed the door and I was left standing there, more questions than ever. I decided I would not give up there, and tried to peer through the small window. I caught a glimpse of colour: flickering red and orange, before the curtain closed abruptly. I told myself that there was going to be no way I will have the inside scoop of this ministry, and started my way back to my car. When I arrived to the fence gate, I turned to close the fence door… And that is when, dear readers, I noticed the billow of smoke coming from the direction of the cabin.
MoMA: A Barracks of Dreams (AnOnion; Vol 1, Issue 3)
by AnOnion In this in depth issue of Government Island, this Onion reporter went undercover as a janitor to bring you the inside scoop in a first person perspective of the offices of The South Pacific’s heads and minds, and what kind of mess they throw away. I sat in my car, parked in the visitor lot of the Ministry of Military Affairs, just watching a small crew of uniformed people re-painting what appears to be the headquarter building. I took a final sip of my now cold coffee, exited my car, and made my way to the entrance. I entered the building to the smell of fresh paint. More workers in uniform replacing the old logos for new ones. I made my way to the front desk and explained I was part of the janitorial services. They led me through to the janitorial closet and left me to my devices. I knew my time in this place would be short, so I immediately left to see the barracks. On my way to find the door leading to the barracks outside, I took a mental note of how clean everything already was, yet the only staff I saw were the workers on the building and the friendly receptionist. I finally made my way outside where I was greeted by a smell of fresh turf being laid down by a single person in uniform. I tried to speak to the uniformed person, but they simply smiled and kept on. I thought nothing of it, and moved towards the barracks. I was quickly stopped by another uniformed person. “Sorry, no admittance to civilians.” I told them I was part of the janitorial services, but they shook their head and repeated. “Sorry, no admittance to civilians.” I thanked them anyway and turned back to the headquarter building. However, I was not going to pass up a chance to find my story. I entered the building and went to find the executive offices. On my way, I found a hallway taped off with what appeared to be danger tape. My curiosity took hold, and ignoring the posted warnings I delved into the hallway. It appeared to be an old wing of the building. The letters M-o-A painted everywhere. I passed through a set of broken double doors, to a room full of dusty desks. It was like something out of a fallout story, with papers strewn everywhere and chairs knocked over. I went to pick up one of the papers when a voice startled me. “You’re not supposed to be here.” I turned to see a man dressed in the same uniform I was, a janitor I assumed. I explained to the gentlemen where I work and I was here to help. He looked at me and chuckled to himself. “You look more suited to writing at a desk than cleaning a military mess.” I chuckled nervously and asked the man what happened in this room. “There was a large fight in here, a long time ago. People didn’t like how the military was I guess. Phooey, those white collars don’t even know how the military works. They’ve tried to regulate this place, and look how it turned out.” He spat on the ground in disgust. “You’ve seen the lack of personnel. It’s a tragedy, really. There was so much fighting about how the army should act that people just stopped showing up to work. Now it’s left to nothing.” I took a quick glance at the paper in my hand, to see an old recruitment message printed on it. The man must have seen me because he started to chuckle. “Haven’t seen one of those in ages.” I decided I should probably leave before my cover was blown, but I could not help but ask one more question about the future of the establishment. “Ha! There’s no faith left in the military. Folks don’t think anyone can lift this place to where it should be. It might as well be a cardboard box with holes and the word ‘Military’ stamped on the top.” I thanked the man and told him I needed to re-caffeinate. I felt his gaze on the back of my neck as I quickly left the wing. I made my way past the entrance and to my car. As soon as I started the ignition, I noticed the barracks I tried to enter earlier, and something seemed odd about it. A large gust of wind suddenly blew, and the face of the barracks fell forward like the backdrop to a movie: a large piece of wood painted to look like a barrack, the wood held up by other wooden two-by-fours planted in the ground, now uprooted. Hidden behind it, the faint outline of a woman trying alone to build a foundation; and a small crowd of suits watching, yelling, and shaking their heads.
Assembly: A Walk Through the Park (AnOnion; Vol 1, Issue 4)
by AnOnion In this in depth issue of Government Island, this Onion reporter went undercover as a janitor to bring you the inside scoop in a first person perspective of the offices of The South Pacific’s heads and minds, and what kind of mess they throw away. I decided to take a break from investigating the Cabinet, and take a stroll through Constitution Park; the new walking park built next to the Assembly Hall. I heard that it had received a makeover since I last stopped by; apparently more enjoyable and a nicer view from the Hall itself. I arrived to a parking lot filled with potholes. My car’s suspension creaking with each bump in the road. I had to park at the bottom of a steep hill; it appeared that the entrance gates were at the top, and one had to walk to get there. I apologized in advance to my legs, and started climbing up the side. I could not help but notice picket signs left forgotten in the bushes leading up. There must have been something important happening here before, but I left the signs behind me and decided to move forward. Exhausted, I finally made it to the gate. It was ornate and, admittedly, looked very pleasing for anyone looking outside in. The gates themselves still had the sheen of fresh paint, and the faint aroma of a flower field wafted through the bars. Readers, you haven’t smelled such a fresh scent like that. With high hopes I entered the park. The pathways were well laid down, and there were benches all around for people to sit and enjoy the scenery. Garbage bins were abundant, and the park looked clean and well kept. I instantly relaxed and slowly walked towards the center of the park. As I was walking, I started noticing holes in the ground, and becoming more frequent the closer I got to the center; holes where flowers were supposed to be. The freshly paved walkway turned into an unfinished rocky path, and the wonderful smell I noticed outside the gate suddenly vanished. I stopped and noticed people, legislators I assumed, becoming more and more frequent as I ventured deeper into the park. I tried to strike up a conversation with one. I greeted them, and they turned to look at me. “Hello. Wonderful day isn’t it?” I agreed, but before I could ask any other questions they walked away. I decided to try and greet someone else. They turned to me and said: “Hello. Wonderful day isn’t it?” I agreed, but before I could ask any other questions they also walked away. I decided to try one last person. “Hello. Wonderful day isn’t it?” I stood in disbelief for a moment, before grabbing the legislator’s arm and asking them about the state of the park. “Wonderful, isn’t it?” I let the fellow go. A cry came from my left. I turned to see a legislator had fallen into one of the holes of the park. They started cursing loudly as they tried to exit the hole, making a scene and getting the attention of the other park goers. The legislators swarmed the hole, and started arguing how to pull the fallen fellow out and fix the hole. I stood back and watched: some yelled loudly and blocked their ears cutting off anybody else trying to speak, some tried to work with others but were too short to get any other legislator’s attention, and others just looked at the hole without saying a word. I stayed for a few hours watching the event, until I decided I must continue my investigations into the Cabinet affairs. The shouting could still be faintly heard when I arrived to the gate. A man, with an armband labelled ‘COA’ rushed past me, shaking their head as they headed to the commotion. As I passed the gate signaling the entrance to the park, I noticed some people outside, eager to see the park themselves. I briefly overheard their conversation: “I can’t wait to see the park, I heard it’s been in the works for a while. I bet it’s as lavish as they said it would be, at the last Garden Council meeting.” “Yeah, I bet it looks as nice on the inside as it does on the outside!”
Get him/her to do one on the LC
Minister of Media, Subversion and Sandwich Making
Associate Justice of the High Court and Senior Moderator ![[Image: B9ytUsy.png]](https://i.imgur.com/B9ytUsy.png)
I want to say that the being DCoA I have many times in the last few days looked at what is happening and just shaken my head before starting to work on it. This is kind of perfect.
Above all else, I hope to be a decent person.
Has Been What's Next? CoA: August 2016-January 2017
Minister of Foreign Affairs: October 2019-June 2020, October 2020- February 2021 |
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