We Free Prophets - Volume Two

All Rights Reserved ©

Chapter Twenty Three

The Imperialist Club for Gentlemen – Zombie Uprising Chapter One.

Sir Martin saunters sadly out of The Imperialist Club for Gentlemen’s grand entrée, and wades through the just-above-the-knee height grasses of the club’s unkempt garden until he reaches the graveyard where his companion rests. Sir Martin’s sorrowful gaze roams forlornly from one grave to another, in search of Martin’s. He misses his companion more than ever, and often prays he were alive.

He misses Martin’s assistance too. Sir Martin doesn’t know whether the people’s revolution will succeed, since Sir Richard has impregnated the Mitochondrial Eve of Politicians once again and she is expecting more clones. Sir Martin hates the way he manipulates her. Sir Richard says he loves her, and has managed to woo her back into his life, yet Sir Martin knows he would jab her in the bum with a fork without a moment’s hesitation, and without an iota of regret. Sir Richard hates women. Yet, he needs one for his sickly genetic experiments, which have produced a giant politician-clone-producing-person – the Mitochondrial Eve of Politicians, or MEOP, for short. She is the mother of the clones, and without the clones there cannot be an Imperialist Club revolution.

Sir Martin strides through the long grasses, laden with spider-spit, reading one inscription after another upon an array of crooked gravestones.


Here lies a squirrel I chose to name Herbert

Who did not like my milk but may have liked sherbet.


Sir Martin frowns, and reads the inscription on another;


Woeful am I, this poor squirrel’s surrogate mother

The squirrel would not be here, if I would have squirrel udders.


Sir Martin is overcome with a feeling one cannot put one’s finger upon, and wouldn’t wish to, and hurries away. As he does so, he trips over a gnarled branch, protruding from the ground, with a wooden lollipop stick taped to it with ‘Martin’ written upon it in blue biro, in an elegant hand.

A lonesome tear of sorrow escapes the confines of a nasolacrimal duct and hurries down Sir Martin’s noble nose, until it reaches a nostril. Sir Martin sniffs a loud, melancholic sniff. The tear shoots up the nostril and abseils down the back of his throat – on a strand of snot – which encourages Sir Martin to erupt into a colossal coughing fit. He coughs and farts and hacks and farts and farts and coughs until he collapses among the grass, stretching towards the sky, as though each blade offers the heavens gifts of sparkling diamonds of morning dew.

Once Sir Martin has recovered enough to reach into a hip pocket of his crisply pressed safari suit, he reaches into a hip pocket of his crisply pressed safari suit and evicts a crisply pressed petit déjeuner from within, which he chomps sorrowfully upon.

Shreds of greaseproof paper drift peacefully upon a gentle breeze, in the cool, damp, morning air, before vanishing into a mist rising from the wild, overgrown graveyard, that seems as though spirits roused from eternal rest. Sir Martin removes the greaseproof paper from a moderate length of baguette and chomps upon it again, with an even greater sense of sorrow.

“Woe is me!” – Sir Martin sniffles.

“Sniffley-sniff” – he sniffs.

He sighs a cloud of crumbs and inhales another, deep into his lungs, and coughs and farts and hacks and farts and farts and coughs and shrieks with terror, when a hand emerges from Martin’s grave and pirouettes thoughtfully, before dramatically pointing at the baguette Sir Martin dropped during his farty coughing fit. The fingers of the hand spread, as though it is delighted, before snatching the baguette and disappearing back into the hole, from where a hideous gnawing emerges, as if a zombie were feasting upon a moderate length of baguette.

An expanding patch of wee appears on the crotch of Sir Martin’s crisply pressed safari suit, like a storm approaching a picnic, as the ground beneath his feet begins to tremble and churn. A hideous stench accompanies the sight of his friend, Martin, as he ascends dramatically from the ground, like a mole with ants nibbling its sphericals.

Once Martin has emerged fully from the grave, he stoops and briskly brushes dirt from his suit, before rising and staggering towards his back-stepping friend.

Martin stomps stiffly towards Sir Martin as though he has no knees. His arms bow out at his sides, and his hands droop lifelessly at his hips.

“O-O-o-o-O-O-o-o-o-o-O-O-o-o-O-h!” – Martin wails.

“O-o-o-o-O-o-o-O-O-o-o-o-h!” – he continues.

“O-O-o-o-O-o-o-o-O-O-h!” – he persists.

“O-o-o-O-o-o-o-h!” – he enthuses.

“I think I have soiled myself” – he concludes, finally.

“Oh! What a coincidence” – Sir Martin retorts. “Let us go to the club and clean up. I thought you were dead!”

“Ah, no. Probably just a concussion. Feel fine now; after eating. Bit of a headache, that’s all.”

Sir Martin and Martin stagger stiff-legged towards The Imperialist Club, with their arms bowed out at their sides, and their hands flapping as though flags in a barely perceptible breeze. Their curious gait does not pass unobserved, for Sir Richard regards their approach from The Imperialist Club’s dining room window, where he and his guests have gathered for breakfast.

Chapter Two of The Imperialist Club for Gentlemen Zombie Uprising

“W-O-o-o-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-o-o-O-W!” – shrieks Sir Richard.

“Martin has risen from the dead as a zombie, and he must have bitten Sir Martin because he’s a zombie too, and they are heading towards the club!”

A fanfare of farting punctuates Sir Richard’s observation, which is followed by footsteps thundering through the club, up a staircase, along a long corridor, and into the laboratory hosting the Mitochondrial Eve of Politicians, who is naked and bent over double, counting her knees, with her considerable bottom facing the entourage as they enter the room.

“Ugh!” – Sir Richard and his guests exclaim in unison.

“E-e-e-e-e-e-w!” – Sir Richard adds. “I mean; sorry to disturb you, my dear, but we seek a place of refuge, because the club is being invaded by zombies who wish to bite us, and you, so we will become zombies too.”

Sir Richard’s lover rises to her full height of some two, three or perhaps four or five metres, and turns to face those who have invaded her privacy.

“Ugh!” – Sir Richard and his guests exclaim in unison.

“E-e-e-e-e-e-w!” – Sir Richard adds, as his gaze is drawn towards his lover’s love triangle, which erupts from her midriff like a bucket of gnarled branches. An upside-down adult’s head, which looks remarkably like Bill Clinton, peers from the foliage before dropping onto the floor, together with its baby body. The clone struggles to his feet and runs in increasingly wide circles, with his giant head flopping around like a party balloon in a balloon pump, until it reaches the door and scuttles from the room.

“Well then!” – Sir Richard’s lover shrieks – “we must find a place to hide!” – before bending over in front of an orderly queue of Sir Richard’s guests, who have gathered in anticipation of the event.

“Um .... won’t it be a little cramped?“– Sir Richard asks, while expressions of concern sweep around his face, like crisp bags in a windy alley.

“You are quite right .... how silly of me!” – the Mitochondrial Eve of Politicians replies, before flopping onto her back and spreading her thunderous thighs, which reveals the gateway to a rather gamey Autumnal Narnia.

One by one, Sir Richard’s guests wipe their feet upon the bristly welcome-mat nature has provided, before pinching their noses and entering the chamber of love. They make their way along copulation corridor until they reach a cavernous womb, upon the walls of which foetuses with enormous heads hang from their umbillyidol chords. Each mutter political slogans, as they develop at an alarming rate towards fully-grown baby-politician-hood.

Once all are safely within, Sir Richard cups his hands around his mouth and shouts – “yoo-hoo! .... we are all here, my dear! But where will you hide?”

The Mitochondrial Eve of Politicians cups her hands behind her jug-handle like lugs, and strains to hear the message drifting from her pheromone flue.

“WHAT?” – she bellows – “didn’t catch that.”

At that very moment, all are rendered silent, and stand transfixed where they stand, for they hear the muffled approach of two sets of clomping, Frankenstienian footsteps.

CLOMP .... CLOMP .... CLOMP .... CLOMP!

“W-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-o-o-O-W!” – Sir Richard shrieks.

“Do hurry, my love! The zombies are in the club!”

Sir Martin and Martin ascend the club’s staircase, while playing rock, paper, scissors, in an effort to determine who will be the first to use the bathroom.

Chapter Three of The Imperialist Club for Gentlemen Zombie Uprising

Once Sir Martin and Martin are in their bedchamber, Sir Martin sits upon his bed while Martin enters the bathroom. Sir Martin, troubled by a troubling realisation, springs from his seated position and pirouettes neatly upon a heel, before regarding the duvet with a grimace of displeasure.

“Shit. A shit mark” – he remarks.

“Would you mind reading a chapter from The Last Revolution, while you wait for your democratically deciphered turn in the bathroom?” – Martin shouts, as he hoses his undercarriage with a powerful jet of luke-warm water.

“Yes! Of course! A splendid idea!” – Sir Martin replies enthusiastically, and begins to read;

“Chapter eleven; although I do not offer a manifesto, let’s continue by considering how life might be in a post-revolution world, as though reading a concise version of history books from the future.

Let’s imagine the first version of the CWO was developed in a country with a relatively small population, and the country’s citizens participated in re-designing their society in an experimental sense. The resulting model of their country’s societal infrastructure proved far superior to the actual society within which they lived, so the majority demanded that their government must be re-modelled to accommodate an interactive democracy.

Since members of the police and armed forces were considered citizens too, and able to voice their opinions, the country’s government had no choice in the matter, because they could not call on these forces to prevent an intellectual uprising of the people.

As a result of this blood-less revolution, the country’s government was modified to form a democracy in the true sense of the term – governance by the people, with their elected representatives fulfilling the wishes of the majority, regarding the society they wished to create.

This manner of governance proved so successful that citizens of other countries were inspired to do the same. As a result, the CWO spread from one country to the next, until a global version of the CWO was created, as a model of a global democracy. The global version of the CWO allowed concerns to be addressed that affected humankind, all species and the planet itself, such as world peace, the global economy and the planet’s health.

Once the members of the armed forces were allowed a voice, they gathered to discuss the concept of war, which seemed to resonate increasingly dissonant with the world as it changed to reflect the true nature of humankind.

The members of the armed forces wondered why warfare had escalated to the point where civilians formed the greatest number of casualties, and societal infrastructure was destroyed or damaged beyond repair. History informed them that battles were once fought on battlefields, and the casualties of war were mostly soldiers, who had been led into combat by their leader, such as their king.

They contemplated modern warfare, and the possibility of humankind’s final or almost certainly penultimate war – the Third World War – when the world’s leaders would hide away in safe havens while their troops died on a battlefield which had grown to encompass the entire planet.

They considered nuclear weaponry, and its ability to destroy entire cities and all who lived within, with the mere prod of a finger upon a button, and the planet’s entire nuclear arsonry, which had the power to destroy the planet and all its life. They saw this escalation of military might had occurred within decades, and wondered whether this so-called advance of humankind had a limit.

The world’s armed forces realised they had placed humankind within a reign of terror, orchestrated by the world’s cowardly leaders, and began to impose their own restrictions regarding the technology they would be willing to employ, should war be deemed a necessary solution to conflict.

Since civilians had become unwillingly embroiled within the political disputes between nations, and lived with the fear of being annihilated, should political conflict lead to war, the armed forces began to include their views in their debates, and their stance was clear; the world wished to live in peace, and considered war a vulgarity that had no place within their vision of the future. And since the armed forces’ loyalty rested first and foremost with the people they had been employed to protect, they worked together to create a world at peace, which they saw as the true purpose of a soldier’s quest.

Although wars of the past had seemed inevitable, due to the world’s political climate of the time, the majority of the world’s potential wars were considered avoidable. The nuclear standoff between the Communist Bloc and Capitalist Bloc seemed an increasingly absurd notion, since it became quite obvious – during discussions in the global version of the CWO, between the representatives of the people of these nations, and in discussions between the people themselves – that the people of the West did not hate Russians and their allies, nor vice versa, and those who did had been brainwashed by political propaganda.

Further discussions, which determined the true attitudes of the peoples of these nations since the end of the Second World War, revealed that only a fraction of the people of the Capitalist Bloc had regarded communism as a concept to be dismissed, and the same was true of the Communist Bloc’s people’s attitude towards capitalism. Many had believed a fusion of these political ideologies may have created a suitable manner of governance, and wondered why each nation had guarded their views so stubbornly, and for so long, rather than each contemplating the other’s viewpoint with intelligent neutrality and forming such a political doctrine.

It was agreed that differing opinions are vital, and conflict of opinion, necessary, since one viewpoint may be compared to another, with the hope opposing views will illuminate the ground resting between, where the best solution may be found. The hostile divides of the old world had prevented this search from beginning. The leaders of humankind were encumbered with political views they guarded with the lives of their people, instead of openly comparing one view with another, with the intention of developing a philosophy of living that would rest comfortably with all.

Humankind took a quantum leap forward when the elected representatives of the world’s nations gathered in the global version of the CWO to discuss the opinions of the people they represented, who agreed that resorting to violence, as a means to end a conflict of opinion, was absurd, profoundly stupid and bordering on Neanderthal.

As a Global Democracy reached the final stages of development, reflecting a singular philosophy governing the physicality of existence, the danger of one nation imposing its political doctrine on another nation, or venomously defending its own ceased, so the tension between nations arrived at an abrupt end. And debates between religious leaders in the central forum encouraged peace between faiths, so intense religious friction dwindled to a tolerable chaffing.

To cut a long story short; once the views of the majority replaced those of a governing minority, and members of the armed forces were able to voice their opinions, rather than being used as though they were as thoughtless and unfeeling as the machinery of war, nuclear disarmament occurred almost overnight, and the threat of a Third World War ceased to exist.

Although a limited amount of weaponry was maintained to protect the planet against an Alien invasion, should such an unlikely event arise, the world’s military might was reduced to a fraction of its former scale. Nuclear weapons were rendered useless and erected in public places, such as in parks and city squares, to remind the world of its grim, dark, violent past.

Although there were many books and movies, portraying Earth under attack by Alien forces, and of humankind’s gallant attempts to defend themselves, a deeper consideration of the concept revealed that if Aliens had the ability to travel through time and space, with the intent of attacking Earth, it was supposed they would have done so already, and their technology would be so advanced that they would have fried everyone to a crisp.

It seemed more likely to assume they were only observing the human race rather sadly, with their large, sensitive, almond eyes, since most agreed that intelligent beings, from unseen realms of the universe, probably were intelligent, and had long since understood that contemplating destroying the planet upon which one lives is not.

Many assumed they would like to come to Earth and help us, and hadn’t because they knew that giving the key to unlock secrets of science would be a grave mistake, since we would only use such knowledge in a negative, harmful way, as we did when we discovered how to split the atom and within a few decades made the Atom Bomb. It was supposed that aliens, having observed the barbaric, violent nature of humankind throughout our history, may assume humans would use such knowledge to build weapons to attack them.

As the world changed to reflect the peaceful, curious, friendly, compassionate nature of humankind, everyone began to hope they might be visited by Aliens, some day, and looked forward to taking them on a guided tour of our planet with pride, instead of hanging their heads in shame, or shooting them from the skies before they even arrived.”

Martin listens intently as Sir Martin reads, while scrubbing his posterior as he does so. Yet; although he scrubs with all his might, until his arms ache and his bottom becomes red-raw, he is far from satisfied with the result, since some days in the grave was time enough for the käk to establish a firm grip on his crack.

Chapter Four of The Imperialist Club for Gentlemen Zombie Uprising

“Wow!” – Martin exclaims, as he vigorously dries his bottom on a face towel.

“There is certainly a great deal of food for thought in that chapter. Imagine such a future! And we have accomplished the first step, by creating the cwo.uk. I wonder if it matters that the revolution will begin in Britain, rather than a country with a relatively small population?” – he ponders.

“Well, I don’t imagine it will make so much difference” – Sir Martin muses – “in fact; it may prove to be an error in favour of the revolution, since the ball may roll faster as a result.”

Sir Martin regards the six interlinked pc stacks resting upon the bedchamber’s floor – the epicentre of Britain’s CWO – and senses he should increase their security, so he lays each on its side and slides them under his bed. Feeling somewhat reassured, he takes his turn in the bathroom – commencing his ablutions by merely splashing some cool water upon his cheeks, before burying his visage in a face towel and inhaling deeply.

Sir Martin retches and coughs and farts and retches and hacks and farts and farts and hacks and coughs and farts and coughs and farts and retches; a cacophony of noise that is carried from the bathroom’s ventilation vent and delivered – once it has travelled through a labyrinth of pipework – to a vent in the corridor just outside the laboratory hosting the Mitochondrial Eve of Politicians, whose portly posterior flaps like a bouncy castle in a storm, when she emits a phenomenal fhoof of fear flatulence.

“OH NO! It sounds like they are almost upon us, and they sound ravenously hungry! I must find a safe place to hide, at once!” The Mitochondrial Eve of Politicians, or MEOP, for short, shrieks, as she edges her way behind a towering display cabinet, upon which sit a vast array of specimen jars containing body parts steeped in formaldehyde. MEOP trembles with fear, which encourages the jars to clatter and clink together and their contents to swim within, giving the display cabinet the overall appearance of an obscene mechanical organ.

“What is that terrible clanking?” – Martin wonders aloud, as the sound reaches them through the ventilation ducts.

“Oh dear!” – Sir Martin exclaims, as he emerges from the bathroom, with his skin glistening with a light, unscented moisturiser – “it rather sounds like specimen jars clinking together, which suggests Sir Richard and his guests are hard at work, producing more clones of politicians!”

“Perhaps you should read the next chapter of The Last Revolution, to see if it holds any clues as to what one should do in such a situation.” – Sir Martin replies.

Martin sits upon his bed and begins to read;

“Let us further our contemplation of this possible future by considering other events, which may occur at more or less the same time as those mentioned in the preceding chapter;

The monetary benefit the world enjoyed, as a result of world peace, was channelled into the construction of a global civilisation that grew with an unusual sense of permanence, since it would exist without the risk of being destroyed as a consequence of war.

The compulsory year’s enlistment to the armed forces, which many countries demanded of their youth, changed to become a year’s enlistment to the unarmed forces, for all the world’s youth, who assisted in the creation of society’s infrastructure, such as building roads, railways, schools, hospitals, and homes that would be presented to the world’s citizens as an element of their birth right; places of residence that could not be taken away, so homelessness became a meaningless term of the past.

Before this basic necessity of life became a human right, no creature on Earth feared homelessness in the way the human race had, or spent so much of their time working to keep their home, with the fear of losing it embedded in every monthly step of their life’s journey.

Although a home provided a sense of security and comfort, as it is for all home-dwelling creatures, the world’s workers realised their homes also created a sense of insecurity and discomfort, since they knew they would lose their homes if they failed to make their mortgage payments or pay their rent.

Once humankind realised this basic right of life had been withdrawn and returned in exchange for labour, they understood they were being driven to work through fear, rather than desire, since if a worker refused to work, or were not able to, for some reason, they may lose their homes. And since food had become a commodity one must buy; that they may not be able to feed themselves and their families.

The consideration of this phenomenon suggested that forcing an animal to work in this manner – taking away their homes and food if they did not – would be considered animal cruelty, and a strategy that would stress the animal. And, if the practice were to continue from one generation to the next; a means of control that would affect the species’ evolution,

Further consideration of humankind’s evolution revealed the members of other species teach their young all they know from the day they are born, whereas the human race had to hide a great deal of truth from their young until they were considered old enough to deal with the disturbing facts encompassing their existence.

Educating the young of the human race with the truth was seen as an essential element of humankind’s evolution, for it seemed only logical to assume a species’ evolution would be damaged if the truth were hidden from their young and suddenly revealed as a disturbing revelation.

Therefore; logic insisted the world must become a place the human race are able to describe to their children; a world to be proud of, rather than an embarrassment to hide from them. When this was accepted as fact, the scale of the task humankind was faced with became apparent.

As the world’s political climate adjusted to create such a world, the planet’s economy, which had once baffled the most gifted economists, changed to become comparatively simplistic. The new economy ensured all enjoyed a comfortable standard of living, with the opportunity to improve their circumstances beyond compare until it reached a limit.

The world’s eight richest men, who had as much wealth as the poorest half the world’s population, was an absurdity eradicated; once trading was governed by guidelines that ensured a fair price for produce and labour, and a global progressive taxation system introduced that restricted the amount of wealth one may accumulate. One could still become rich, once this system was implemented, but not to the extent where it damaged the global economy and caused human suffering.

In essence; it was agreed that global civilisation should be considered a single entity, rather than a fragmented phenomenon, and a solid foundation must be constructed to build global civilisation upon. Namely; each of the planet’s inhabitants should be housed, fed, educated, and cared for when they are sick.

Since the world’s workers were participating in the construction of a paradise on Earth, instead of a barely functional global civilisation resting within the realms of an untimely demise, a work ethic described by the English philosopher L.P. Jacks, or which may be attributed to Buddhist philosophy, or perhaps both, began to permeate the consciousness of the human race; there should be no border between work and play.

As the construction of the new world progressed, political ideologies fused to form a new political philosophy governing the planet. An element of capitalism remained intact, because it was considered an appropriate manner of measuring the value of labour, and a philosophy which encouraged innovation and a competitive spirit. But the forces driving capitalism were considered anew – the phenomena driving workers to work, and stirring the desire within the consumer to buy.”

Chapter Five of The Imperialist Club for Gentlemen Zombie Uprising

“W-e-e-e-l-l” – Martin sighs – “although chapter twelve was certainly inspiring, and has allowed an even greater sense of conviction, it doesn’t say anything about foiling a plan to populate the Earth with clones of politicians.”

“Quite” – Sir Martin begins – “I am also filled with an increased sense of determination. Yet; it is a pity that Martin Sharratt did not have sufficient foresight to envision such an occurrence.”

“Indeed” – Martin agrees – “I suppose we must trust our own sense of judgement, and determine what we must do to prevent Sir Richard and his guests from disrupting an intellectual uprising of the majority. Let us sneak to the laboratory, as cunningly and silently as cunning, silent foxes, and spy on these mischievous lambs, dressed in sheep’s clothing, and attempt to decipher their intent. And if we are right; that they are indeed planning to increase the rate at which the Mitochondrial Eve of Politicians ....”

“MEOP, for short” – Sir Martin interrupts.

“Yes .... the rate at which MEOP is producing her odious offspring, we must attempt to halt the process, so the people’s revolution may progress unhindered.”

The two friends leave their bedchamber and tiptoe silently through the club until they reach a flight of stairs leading up into the attic, which they climb with the kind of caution one employs when one is about to prod an angry lion’s bumhole. They freeze whenever a step creaks underfoot, and defrost and resume their ascent once they are certain they have not been heard.

Once they are amongst the eaves, Sir Martin and Martin locate the space they presume to be the ceiling of the laboratory, and search for a crack or hole. Martin finds both a crack and a hole – in the small mirror he holds between his outspread legs – for he has stopped to inspect his bottom, which has begun to smart and itch as a result of the käk still caked upon it.

Sir Martin frantically beckons his friend, for he has also found a crack and hole, through which they begin to observe the laboratory.

MEOP lies spread-eagled upon the lab’s floor; her waxen skin illuminated by the undulating light from a gathering of thoughtfully arranged candles. Sir Richard stands between her open legs, fumbling with the buttons on the crotch of his lederhosen while muttering – “is there any chance you might shave? You know; a heart or something? I mean; it’s not only for sex-appeal – it’s just that I don’t want to snag my favourite cardigan on your pubes.”

“Stop being silly, Sir Richard!” – MEOP croons – “take your cardy off so we are naked and free! Delight in nature’s design, my lover! Let us make love into the wee hours, and greet the day’s first light with joy, since we will know the world will be filled with the fruit of our loins, which will ensure humankind will remain forever servile to those born their masters!”

Sir Richard obliges and removes his cardigan, undershirt and bro-sseire. His grotesquely elongated nipples contract audibly in the room’s chill, until they protrude from his cavernous chest like rubber coat-pegs in a mental asylum. Sir Richard resumes his efforts to open his button-fly to no avail, since his fingers have grown as cold as a stone mason’s backside during a winter lunchbreak.

“OH! FOR FUCK’S SAKE! DO HURRY UP!” – MEOP screeches impatiently.

Sir Richard is overcome with a sense of panic, and accepts that working his gentleman’s sausage mid-way through a buttonhole is as near as he will get to a state of undress that will allow penetration. He steps into the opening of MEOP’s pube-tube, covers his face with both hands, conjures up images of past lovers and jumps up and down on the spot, with the hope the friction from the buttonhole will encourage him to produce seeds.

Sir Richard’s guests, who have assembled around the room’s perimeter upon chairs and cushions offer encouragement;

“P-H-W-w-o-o-o-O-O-o-o-o-o-a-A-A-R-R!”

“Are you in yet, darling?” – MEOP enquires.

Chapter Six of The Imperialist Club for Gentlemen Zombie Uprising

Sir Martin and Martin have witnessed more than enough. They tip-toe across the attic and down the stairs leading up to it, before making their way back through the club and to their bedchamber, where both flop onto their beds like actors who have been told they will never work again.

“W-h-u-u-u-u-r-r-r-r-r-g-h!” – Sir Martin exclaims.

Martin retches in response.

“Well” – Sir Martin manages, eventually – “I’m not sure whether we have committed an offence – an invasion of privacy – or merely observed an experiment in a laboratory.”

“It wasn’t an experiment” – Martin replies – “because it works.”

“Ee-ew!” – Sir Martin remarks – “then we are guilty of invading the privacy of lovers, which, according to the nature of that observed, renders us the most despicable perverts upon the face of the Earth.”

“How sorrowful” – Martin sighs, sorrowfully. “When considering the grotesque nature of the event we have just witnessed, I think I would feel slightly less disgusted with myself if I had encouraged Umpa Lumpas to push chocolate buttons up my bottom while I performed a wax strip Brazillian on a ferret.”

Sir Martin stares at his friend, with his jaw sagging like a bullock’s bollocks on the hottest day of summer, before lifting the copy of The Last Revolution from his bedside table and flicking through its pages until a sock springs from within – the only book-mark he could find.

“The degenerative nature of our conversation suggests it may be time to consider another chapter” – Sir Martin assumes, and begins to read chapter thirteen;

“As the world adjusted to a new philosophy of living, the strategies employed by governments of the past, to drive the world’s workers to work, became increasingly transparent.

Stalin used fear to keep citizens loyal to the communist party. He said;

‘I prefer my people to be loyal out of fear, rather than conviction. Convictions can change, but fear remains.’

Stalin used his stratagem openly, whereas capitalist governments used a harrowing, fear-inducing technique covertly and rather cleverly, by disguising their tactic as gifts, which ensured they would have faithful workers for life, since the gifts were everything the workers required or desired, including their homes and food.

To ensure the workers were driven to work through the fear of being unable to survive, almost every country housed a homeless population, since no one would have been afraid of being without a home if the phenomenon did not exist.

The unfair wealth divide was another necessary element of capitalism. Not only to keep the rich in their privileged position, but also to drive the gift industry. The grossly unequal division of wealth propelled the gift industry because many hoped to take more than their fair share of the little wealth the rich had left for the majority to divide among themselves. This led to an ever increasing number of companies producing gifts, of varying quality and worth; the owners of which hoped to reap a good profit, so they may become wealthy too, and eradicate the stresses encompassing their existence.

Apart from homes and food, there were countless gifts in the form of products and services. Gifts in the form of products were perhaps the most important of all, since an element of their purpose was to soothe the sense of insecurity workers had to endure, because their homes and food were under the constant threat of being withdrawn.

Many companies produced the same product as others, leading to a price-war competitiveness. Some companies used quality as a means to attract their customers, while the majority relied on the clever tactics of advertising agencies to do the same. This led to many gifts being manufactured to a bare minimum of standards, even though the company’s advertising and packaging was often of the highest quality.

As a result, many of the gifts only lasted a short space of time. These gifts were cheap to manufacture, affordable to buy, but expensive or almost impossible to repair, so they were thrown away when they were broken and replaced with new ones.

This scenario led to mountains of waste, from unnecessarily high-quality packaging to poor-quality, designed-to-be-disposable products, which placed an impossible demand on the planet’s limited resources, and choked the skies with needless pollution.

Many of the gifts, in the form of services, arose as a consequence of the collapse of community and family structure, which had occurred because the majority of workers were too busy working, to pay for their homes, food and gifts, to perform the tasks of a natural life.

The services ranged from fast food restaurants, which provided ready meals for those who had no time or energy to cook, to services offering to care for people, from babies to the mentally ill and elderly. Although it was impossible to replicate, people were paid to do the work of mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, grandparents, great grandparents and friends of the family.

In the global civilisation of the past, one may have been employed in an endless number of ways, which were as numerous as they often were absurd.

One may have become a soldier, attacking, defending or threatening humankind, in an effort to maintain peace in a turbulent political clime.

Or join the police force; rounding up the most unruly or disturbed humans and locking them up – out of sight; out of mind – which made the world appear a better place than it really was.

One may have become a debt collector, who forced those who were too poor to pay their bills to pay double or triple the original amount.

One may have chosen to be a teacher, who informed their students that to be bright and intelligent would be rewarded, whereas to be not so bright and intelligent was a punishable offence. Not only by the scorn received for getting low grades, but also by society itself, since low grades mostly led to poorly paid work, which meant the dream of a beautiful house with a garden, and a life of plenty, would probably only ever be a dream.

The world’s workers produced enormous amounts of food, many of whom did not realise a percentage would feed vermin and insects on dumps, while millions of people in the world were hungry or starving to death, since giving still-edible but unsold produce to hungry humans was deemed a solution that would damage the economy.

They built roads, upon which countless cars travelled, and often with only the driver in them, surrounded by vacant seats. The cars overtook half-empty busses, upon which ticket collectors travelled, with the cost of their employ covered by the fines they gave people for travelling without a ticket.

On the same roads as the cars and busses rumbled endless convoys of lorries, some of which delivered new, poor-quality gifts to shops, while others transported broken gifts to dumps, along with their useless, top-quality packaging; all of which the workers had produced, including the lorries, busses and cars. This scenario persisted, even though the world was dying because of the effects of pollution.

After a lifetime of labour, where so many worked to live, rather than lived to work, and when society had finished with them, elderly workers were placed in old people’s homes, since their families were too busy working to care for them. In these homes, and because they spent most of their day drugged, in bed, stranger’s hands tended to the old workers’ bedsores and poked their bottoms, to dig out faeces, since the old workers were severely constipated as a side effect of drugs and the result of inactivity – and dehydration, since the old people were not offered a drink when they were thirsty, because the homes were mostly understaffed, so the carers of the elderly didn’t have time to take the old workers to the toilet. After the workers had died, there were still expenses relating to their existence; of funerals and cremations, and rental of the land in which they were buried.

Although most wished there was no border between work and play, it was rarely so. Many workers were not happy in their employ. And the gifts did not bring the contentment advertisements promised and governments wished for, so the workers’ lives seemed unfulfilled.

Many took anti-depressants to lift them from the misery of living. Soldiers took them to make war bearable. Teachers, parents and grandparents took them. Even children took them, because they became depressed when their imaginary world collapsed to reveal the real, messed-up world they were living in.

Before the revolution, it seemed an ever-increasing amount of people sensed, at an ever-increasingly younger age, the pointless perils surrounding their destinies. Perhaps those who coped the best were the ones who had the ability to put the world’s horrors out of their minds, such as the notion of a Third World War, which would destroy the entire farce of humankind’s existence.”

Chapter Seven of The Imperialist Club for Gentlemen Zombie Uprising

Martin’s chest expands, and contracts when he heaves a – “well” – wrapped up in a sigh. “Such a heavy, sorrowful state of affairs, which leads one to wish for a more meaningful future. Again; I found the chapter deeply inspiring, and my will to revolt has surely doubled, but I am left feeling somewhat disappointed that Martin Sharratt failed to analyse a government’s response to an intellectual uprising of its people in greater depth. A rather unfortunate oversight, since he knew governments wouldn’t be too pleased with the notion.”

“Indeed; I feel the same. Deeply inspirational words of wisdom, which ring with an unfortunate truth” – agrees Sir Martin – “yet; we are none the wiser, in certain respects. It may be true the police and armed forces will side with the people, since they are an element of the majority, but I will never understand why he didn’t take into account every option governments would employ to remain in power, such as the cloning of politicians; it seems too obvious.”

“Well” – Martin expands, as he contracts – “I suppose he was limited to the brain-power of an individual, and could not foresee every obstacle humankind might stumble over upon the path to liberation. We must act as external brain power for this great revolutionary thinker, and think what he thought not.”

“I agree” – Sir Martin agrees. “So, what should we do? An enforced Coitus Interruptus? Or perhaps it is too late for that? We must be careful; we are greatly outnumbered. Perhaps we should wait until the clones are born and beat them to death with clubs?”

Martin draws a deep intake of breath together with a – “wop-op-op-op-op-op-op” – and exhales in a horrified manner with – “that would be murder!” – enveloped within.

“Not really” – retorts Sir Martin. “Those hideous beings are an abomination of nature. I don’t think we need regard them as human, and anyway, killing a politician is assassination, which, I do believe, is a lesser crime.”

Martin’s brow furrows with uncertainty. “I don’t know. I think we have waded into reasoning beyond our depth. I wouldn’t feel comfortable assassinating someone, or murdering them, and especially not committing infanticide, even if the babies do have adult heads.”

“By jove! I think I’ve got it!” – Sir Martin announces – “since they are so young, in some way, at least, they are impressionable, so it may be that all we need to do is tell them about the hippies and the punks. Play some of the people’s music and inspire them to become a part of the revolution! I remember reading that Martin Sharratt believed politicians may warm to the notion of a true democracy, so perhaps they will become the world’s first true representatives of the people, rather than politicians who foil the people’s revolution!”

“My goodness!” – chortles Martin – “what a splendid idea! And what perfect irony!”

“Yes!” – Sir Martin responds, with a tone of gleeful conspiracy. “We must find a way to attract them, once they have been born, and grasp their attention. I do believe some kind of music festival would do the trick, but we do not have the equipment to host such an event.”

“That’s a very good idea, Sir Martin, and we may find what we need in the club’s basement.”

“Do you mean the rumours may be true?” – Sir Martin asks – “that a relative of Sir Richard lives below the club, hidden away on account of them being a paradox of Sir Richard himself; Mister Hyde manifest?”

“Or Miss Hyde” – Martin supposes – “for no one knows whether they are a man, woman or otherwise, if they even exist, since neither I nor anyone else has seen the person in question.”

“Yes, I have heard that he, she or it has spent their entire life below the club, in total isolation, and Sir Richard pampers to their every whim, so they don’t leave and expose the terrible, shameful family secret” – Sir Martin expands; an action which displaces a squeak of gas.

“What secret would that be?” – Martin wonders.

“That there is a leftie socialist communist anarchist in the family, or something of the sort” – Sir Martin clarifies.

“Whenever the club is silent, in the morning’s wee hours, I have often heard a muted, steady, driving, bassonic beat, which I have never believed is the spirit of the club – its heartbeat – as Sir Richard claims it to be. After I had begun to listen to some of the people’s music, the rhythm reminded me of The Sex Pissholes and the like. Jolly Rotten. Pubic Image. That kind of thing. And the sheer force of the beat suggests the music is being played on a serious sound system; powerful enough to drive a festival, perhaps.” – Martin explains.

“Well then! let us neither dither, dally nor arse about! We must hasten to the basement and hope our ears guide us to the one we seek!“– Sir Martin cries.

“POWER TO THE PEOPLE!” – Martin roars, as he drives his fist aloft, with the drama of his stance enhanced considerably when his body becomes rigid in response to a stinging pain shooting from his smarting hole.

Chapter Eight of The Imperialist Club for Gentlemen Zombie Uprising

Sir Martin and Martin hurry from their bedchamber, along a long corridor, down a wide flight of stairs, and through the club’s grand entrée, where they meet a brisk evening air. Once they have fought their way through considerable undergrowth, at the rear of the mansion house, they locate the door leading to the basement, which they force open, forcefully, before tiptoeing down stone steps to the rhythm of an increasingly thunderous bassonic beat.

The pounding rhythm lures them through a labyrinth of stone corridors, lit by a waxing pulsating light, until they see a door standing ajar, with a rainbow of fluctuating colours spreading like a fan from the gap created by the door and its jamb.

Sir Martin and Martin creep along the corridor and peep gingerly into the room, where they see someone sitting at its far end, on a chair, with their feet upon a desk and their hands behind their head. They can just make out, in the throbbing, kaleidoscopic light, that the figure wears a bandana and an eye patch, and smokes an enormous cigarette.

Around the room’s perimeter, upon an array of shelves, rest a number of bottles and jars, within which body parts float in formaldehyde. There are stickers upon the bottles and jars, with words written in elegant copperplate, which Sir Martin and Martin read. ‘Spare Armpit’ and ‘Spare Elbow’ and ‘Spare Appendix’ and then a seemingly empty jar with a sticker reading ‘Spare Hole’. When they see a jar with what seems to be earthworms coiled within, and read the sticker upon it, which states ‘Spare Nipples’ the truth of the matter leaps into the light of reason.

“The person isn’t a relative; they’re a clone of Sir Richard!” – Martin hisses into Sir Martin’s ear.

Once the two friends have recoiled, and recovered, they gather enough courage to cautiously approach the seated person.

“A-HEM!” – Sir Martin coughs, dramatically, and as loudly as he is able, which encourages the clone to shriek like an Alzheimer sufferer who has mistaken a hotplate for a stool, and tumble to the floor, before rolling around the room several times and trundling to a halt, upside down upon his flattened crown, with the chair jammed onto his bottom.

“Oh! We are sorry. We didn’t mean to give you a start!” – Sir Martin yodels, at colossal volume, as they further their cautious approach.

As Sir Martin and Martin draw closer, they see the clone is even shorter than Sir Richard and bears a striking resemblance, which, together with a wispy beard, leads them to hope the clone is male.

The desk and chair are scale reproductions of period furniture, designed, without doubt, for the offspring of the elite. The bandana is a paisley-pattern sock, tied around his crown, and the eye-patch the sock’s heel, which has drooped over an eye.

“Erm .... we dig .... um .... your sounds. What are you listening to?” – Martin asks, kindly.

“Farmer Bells and The Farmyard Smells” – the clone replies, glumly – “the album is entitled Ding - a - Ling - a - Ling - along with Dung.”

“Really? Sounds quite .... ermm .... groovy! Do you mind if I turn it down a tad so we may speak? We are rather hoping you might like to help us. We are revolutionaries, you see? Plotting a revolution to empower the people.”

The clone’s eyes are as red as Beelzebub’s and as tired as the Grim Reaper’s, and regard Sir Martin and Martin with a steady disinterest.

“I don’t know. Probably not” – the clone replies – “what kind of revolution?”

“Well” – Sir Martin responds. “It’s all rather exciting! We found this book, which has not been taken seriously, but we thought it quite superb, and followed the author’s suggestion by creating an internet site called the CWO, where people may gather to design their society. A kind of direct democracy; governance by the people. It’s already doing rather well in Britain, and we hope we might be able to encourage it to spread to other countries, so the world will become a democratic entity. We are still reading it. We have just finished reading chapter thirteen. Perhaps you will listen while I read chapter fourteen? It may inspire you?”

Without waiting for a response, Sir Martin begins to read;

“As the world grew to become governed by true democracy, the nonsensical aspects of life in the past formed a stark contrast with the fantastic advances there had been throughout the ages, since it was undeniable that humankind’s innovation had resulted in some remarkable achievements.

Once collective intelligence replaced the fragmented reasoning of a minority, logic eradicated every absurdity and never a minute was spent creating more, so global civilisation began to develop in harmony with the beneficial advances of humankind.

The old world, where endless rows and stacks of boxes, housing people who worked to propel societies that created rivers of waste, brief pleasure, and great wealth for the chosen few, changed into a new world, where people left for work from their own un-threatened abode, to engage in tasks that brought pleasure and satisfaction.

Products were manufactured to the highest of standards, so they lasted longer, which reduced the amount of waste and pollution global civilisation produced, as well as slowing the rate at which the planet’s limited resources were being used.

Quality became the hook all companies used to catch their customers, so no one was disappointed by poorly manufactured products, or reminded of an observation by John Ruskin, who said:

‘Quality is never an accident; it is always the result of an intelligent effort. The bitterness of poor quality lingers long after the sweetness of a low price is forgotten.’

As time passed by in this manner, there were only a few companies producing ‘engines’ for toasters, to offer but one example, and other companies offering casings for the product in all shapes and colours. The toaster casings were recyclable, and could be changed an infinite amount of times, whereas the toaster engine was built to the highest standard and repaired by the manufacturer at a reasonable cost, should it cease to function. The same was true for kettles, vacuum cleaners, and countless other products. Consumers were even able to design the casings for such goods, through services the Internet and robotic technology offered. As a result of these changes, the rivers of waste slowed to a trickle.

At long last, the issue of global warming was taken seriously, and an increasing amount of measures were taken to ensure a massive reduction of carbon emissions, such as the introduction of a free, world-wide public transportation system, which greatly reduced the amount of traffic on roads. Busses, trams and trains were designed for the project, which were powered by energy gathered from solar panels on the roofs of the vehicles. A high tax on fuel was introduced to cover the cost, and dissuade the use of privately-owned vehicles.

As the world began to emanate the true nature of humankind, cars that once rolled along roads, empty of their potential occupants, were filled with passengers who had found people willing to offer a lift, via a satellite link transport system.

And there was only one global telecommunication network, connecting the entire planet together at a reasonable cost, instead of endless companies reaping enormous profits. The same was true for the Internet, so even space itself became devoid of humankind’s junk.

Every activity was questioned, and creative solutions found to replace the ludicrous. Rather than convoys of trucks transporting tons of dirty snow from town and city centres, in countries where winters are cold, these hubs of life became vehicle-free, and the clean snow of metropolis taken to parks and open spaces to be crafted into ice castles, slides and sculptures, for the pleasure of all.

Discussions within the environmental forums of the CWO began to explore the possibilities of providing a clean source of power for the planet, such as harnessing wind and sea power, and constructing gigantic solar panels upon non-arable parts of the Earth, such as deserts.

A scheme to grow stronger lungs for the Earth was introduced, which began by re-planting areas that had been clear-felled within rain forests, jungles and natural woodland, where young trees would have shelter and a quality of ground that would encourage their growth.

Since governments had become institutions reflecting the wishes of the majority they truly represented, rather than small groups of politicians imposing their will on a majority they hardly cared for, governments became responsible for the free education and health care of its people. It was considered of the utmost importance that every citizen should be educated and physically well, so schools and hospitals were built until this requirement was met, on a global scale, and sufficient workers trained to offer these vital services.

Although the first versions of the CWO hosted almost-flawless translation technology, which allowed the world’s populous to communicate, the conclusion of global debate regarding communication decreed that each of the world’s citizens should be taught English, since it had been the language chosen by politicians, which, in essence, almost everyone had become.

The question of food management was met with a logical approach. Measures were taken to ensure no food was wasted. Rather than being transported to dumps, to feed pests such as insects and vermin, surplus food was given to those who found themselves in a period of economic distress or the host of a large family, and anything that remained was dried or tinned and exported to countries where food shortage was an issue, until each country became self-supportive regarding their food needs.

The importance of clean drinking water, for all inhabitants of the planet, was another topic which received the attention it had always deserved. A worldwide initiative to purify existing water supplies and drill wells began, which started in areas where the lack of clean drinking water caused disease, and where the irrigation of farmland was essential to ensure successful crop yields. Together with a great many changes of this nature, compost developed from organic waste was used to re-earth the Earth, so farming began in the most hostile environments.

In effect; changes relating to the environment ensured the destruction of the planet was brought to a halt, and slowly reversed, until the Earth’s ill health became wellbeing, and every country had clean water and an abundance of food.”

Chapter Nine of The Imperialist Club for Gentlemen Zombie Uprising

The clone glowers impatiently at Sir Martin and Martin. “Well. Obviously; you are wasting your time” – he announces, with gruff sarcasm.

“What do you mean?” – Sir Martin enquires, with a tone suggesting an injury to his very soul.

“I mean; the revolution has already occurred. The passage you have read is past tense; it describes events that have already happened. Perhaps your powers of perception are so lacking that you have failed to notice that I am nothing like Sir Richard, despite the resemblance. I am his antithesis; his paradox – I have no interest in politics whatsoever. So, even if a revolution were required to create such a world, I would not be interested in participating in it. Now, if you will excuse me, I am tired and wish to rest. I can’t remember the last time I have had a good night’s sleep. I cannot drift off, no matter who I choose to listen to.”

The clone of Sir Richard proceeds to yawn; a reflex which reveals green, pointy teeth, which grip Sir Martin and Martin’s grim fascination for an increasing amount of time, since it seems the yawn wishes to continue indefinitely.

“No! You don’t understand!” – Martin protests, as his subconscious makes a note to visit a dentist. “Martin Sharratt is describing a possible future! He certainly did not intend to provoke an apathetic response to the revolution!”

Martin’s words enter dreaming ears, for the clone’s yawn has metamorphosed into a resonant snore.

“There is a great deal to be accomplished before such a world exists!” – Martin continues – “and politicians are plotting a revolution to further empower government, so there’s no time to ....”

“Let it go” – Sir Martin interrupts.

“I can’t!” – Martin protests. “We need all the help we can get, and you would think the clone would be the first to ....”

“You can” – Sir Martin persists, as beads of sweat gather on his brow. “Let go of my nipple. You are pulling it off.”

“Oh .... I’m Sorry” – Martin sighs, as he releases his vice-like grip on his companion’s shirt. “I’m just so angry! Martin Sharratt wrote of the apathy of the masses in chapter nine. He said evoking a change in mentality would be as great a challenge as inspiring revolt, and there cannot be one without the other!”

“Well then; we must get to work at once!” – Sir Martin cries, at a moderate volume, so as not to disturb the repose of the recumbent one. “Although he may protest, if he were awake, we should borrow his equipment regardless of his political standing, for he will not require his music system and light show for quite some time. Ironically, it seems Sir Richard’s clone has been unable to rest because the music he believes will lull him to sleep has, in fact, been keeping him awake, since it has been too loud. Now the volume has subsided, he sleeps like a baby who has had a generous dash of whisky added to their evening milk bottle.”

Martin pulls a handkerchief from his handkerchief pocket and stuffs it in his mouth, before shouting – “VIVE LA RÉVOLUTION!” – with all the passion his soul wishes to express.

“Let us hope the clones of politicians grow to be the ones who truly set events in motion, by inspiring the people with the power of conviction politicians are able to exude!” – Sir Martin adds, before stooping to pick up the enormous cigarette the clone had been smoking and inserting it carefully into the inner pocket of his crisply pressed safari suit. He intends to smoke it later, with Martin.

The two friends work until evening falls, dragging speaker stacks, amplifiers, lighting frames and boxes of vinyl down to the riverbank, which they consider the perfect spot to host the festival, since it is quite far from the club, and the place the clones seem to gravitate towards after they have been born.

Chapter Ten of The Imperialist Club for Gentlemen Zombie Uprising

Once the festival is rigged and ready to rock, Sir Martin selects a record from a box, places it upon the turntable and drops the needle.

“SKIPPY! .... SKIPPY! .... SKIPPY, THE BUSH KANGAROO!”

The speaker stacks bellow, as the light show responds by bathing the swaying grasses of the riverbank in ripples of multi-coloured, stroboscopic light. Sir Martin and Martin are gripped by the rhythm and begin to pogo in frantic, joyful ellipses, until Martin pogoes off course and lands in the river with a ‘plop!’

At that very moment, a thumping rhythm outwith the womb encourages Sir Richard to clamber from his lover’s pubic piping and run across the laboratory, towards the window, through which he squints.

“What on Earth is going on down there?” – Sir Richard mumbles, as he observes the illuminated grasses of the riverbank swaying to the beat.

“Whatever it may be, it is certainly contrary to the six o’clock evening peace we intend to enforce upon society” – Lord Grup-phart murmurs, once he and the other guests have joined Sir Richard.

“You are right, of course! So, let us arm ourselves, gentlemen, and make our way to its source, and give these beatniks a thrashing so sound they will never forget their encounter with The Imperialist Club for Gentlemen!”

As the vengeful ensemble make their way down to the riverbank, Martin heads up towards the club, where he intends to change into dry clothes. He is sodden from head to toe, and walks with his arms bowed out at his sides and his hands drooping lifelessly at his hips.

His moistened state has caused the dried käk to change consistency from a harmless biscuit-like substance to that of a biscuit that has been dunked in a nice hot cup of skin-irritant, which torments his sphincter and beyond – into every nook and cranny of his throbbing crevice.

Martin stomps stiffly towards the club, as though he has left his knees to party at the riverbank. The pains shooting from his posterior increase in intensity and frequency with every footstep.

“O-O-o-o-o-o-o-o-h!” – Martin wails.

“O-o-o–OW–o-o-o-O-O-H!” – he continues

“O-o-o-o-Ow-Wow-wow-ow-o-O-o-O-H!” – . he persists.

“Ow-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-OW-o-o-O-ow-wow-o-o-OW!” – he enthuses

Sir Richard and his guests freeze, as if frozen, and stare horrified with horror at what they presume to be Martin, the zombie, approaching through rising mist in the day’s dying light. The entourage emit a lengthy screech of flatulence, as though a faulty foghorn announcing retreat, and retreat, shrieking with panic.

Martin pauses for a moment, before resuming his journey, to consider the noise, and thinks it a young Spring hare snagging its bollocks on a gnarled branch.

Sir Richard and his guests thunder through the club’s entrée, up a staircase, along a long corridor and into the laboratory, where they vanish into the safety of the womb without greeting or explanation. Sir Richard is so overcome with fear that he doesn’t notice when his favourite cardigan becomes snagged on his lover’s pubes, and wool unravels from it until it looks like a Shetland Bra.

MEOP trembles with fear, which resonates with the fearful trembling of the guests in her womb, resulting in a dissonance that causes MEOP to oscillate like a well-spaced dancer at a rave. The jars clatter and clunk in an almighty cacophony of noise, and their contents swim frantically within, like Frankenstein’s genitalia in a jacuzzi.

Martin stands in the bathroom of the bedchamber with a hand cupped behind each ear, wearing nothing but a deeply concerned frown.

“Sounds like they are really stepping it up” – Martin mutters to himself. “Well, they may be producing young revolutionaries, rather than batches of politicians, so it may not matter.”

Meanwhile, down at the riverbank, a small crowd of clones have gathered to dance and sway to the music, with their enormous heads lolloping and flolloping like drunks in a speedboat. The music thunders through the PA system;

“ROW, ROW, ROW YOUR BOAT, GENTLY DOWN THE STREAM ...!”

Until the volume decreases, which allows the enthralled clones to listen to Sir Martin’s recital of chapter fifteen of The Last Revolution;

“Once each of the world’s countries had become more or less as prosperous as any other, and when humankind began to live together in peaceful harmony, border restrictions ceased to exist. Those who wished to travel did so through curiosity – to explore the world – rather than fleeing their country in search of peace or a better standard of living, since there was no need to do so.

Humankind’s effort led to a sense of harmony and equality with all other species; all were housed and fed, without living with the fear of their homes and food being withdrawn, and free to travel wherever they pleased, as all creatures on Earth. And, since the world had become a place one wished to describe to one’s children; educated with the truth, which were factors that allowed the healthy evolution of humankind to begin.

Some believed humankind’s evolution was superior to that of all other species because of advanced healthcare, whereas others argued it was inferior, since there were still issues to be addressed before humankind would be able to live in perfect harmony with the planet and all its life.

One such concern was the manner in which humankind disposed of its waste. The excrement of all land-dwelling creatures fertilised the Earth’s soil, whereas a great deal of human excrement was pumped into seas and oceans, where it polluted the sea-creatures’ environment – a percentage of which was harvested to feed humankind.

Once this absurdity rose to the attention of the masses, a solution was sought to eradicate the problem, which seemed as though an extreme challenge. Firstly; human excrement was polluted with toxins, such as the residue of medications people took to relieve anxiety and depression. Although this found a natural solution, since increasingly less people felt anxious or depressed and abandoned their medications as a result, human waste was mixed with all manner of chemicals, such as those used to clean clothes and homes. Organic alternatives proved a suitable solution, so human waste was converted into fertiliser, and just in time, since chemical fertilisers had began to pollute the Earth’s soil.

Another factor, which separated Homo sapiens from the rest of life on Earth, was that no other species have jails or a police force. However; crime diminished considerably as the world’s political climate began to exude an air of honesty, fairness and equality, rather than corruption, greed and exploitation.

Stealing from one another had become deeply frowned upon, because humankind were proud of the world’s sense of honesty, equality and fairness. People trafficking had become a phenomenon of the past, as all were able to travel wherever they please, and the legalisation of drugs had ensured all crimes relating to their sale on the Black Market came to an end.

Incredibly, this measure did not result in a planet full of stoners, as many feared it would, since few took drugs to escape life. Life had found a new meaning and purpose, so the desire to take drugs was to enable an alternative state of mind, from which most were happy to return, after their brief respite from a distinctly pleasurable reality.

As the troubled psyche of humankind adjusted to a relative sense of happiness and spiritual wellbeing, institutions that cared for the mentally unwell slowly emptied of their occupants.

Although it was thought jails and mental asylums would become yet another horror of the past, these institutions seemed destined to remain, for some time, to deal with the last dysfunctional and disturbed members of humankind.

As a consequence of these changes, the police force’s mentality changed considerably. Their discussions within the forums relating to their profession in the CWO revealed they had a new found sense of pride. They had grown tired of being feared and hated because they were employed by corrupt governments to maintain the absurd order of troubled societies. They wished to be seen as heroes – the beloved peace keepers and servants of the people.

Discussions within the forums relating to law and order arrived at the conclusion that the old system of locking people up – out of sight; out of mind – had been like dealing with the symptoms of a disease. The disease had been the effect a troubled world had on the human psyche, and dysfunctional humans were symptoms of the disease, which was the reason locking offenders away, with the assumption their incarceration would stop them re-offending and deter others from committing crimes, had proved so unsuccessful.

Once the opportunities to commit crimes had decreased, and the will to do so almost eradicated, crime became a lot easier to categorise and understand. Although it was thought criminality would change as rapidly as the world itself, from one generation to the next, the first step towards the reconsideration of crime and punishment was to divide offences into two distinct categories; of violent and non-violent crime.

The category of violent crime was punishable by a system of imprisonment similar to what existed in societies before they changed, although it was agreed conditions should be comfortable, since the loss of liberty and extraction from society was considered punishment enough. Imprisonment was deemed necessary for those who committed violent crimes, because they were a danger to others.

The perpetrators of violent crimes were regarded as mentally unwell, and they had become so as a result of the effect defective societies had on them. Therapy led them to understand the disturbed patterns of thought that had encouraged them to commit their crimes, and their self-awareness often led to a full recovery.

The second category, of non-violent crime, mostly dealt with fraud and theft, and so on. This category was divided into two separate components, as a proportion of these crimes were committed out of desperation, to resolve a financial crisis, for example, whereas others were committed because of greed. Non-violent crime was punishable, but not by imprisonment, since these criminals posed no physical threat to members of society.

Non-violent crimes, committed through desperation, were punishable by unpaid time spent serving the community, such as helping with the care of the disabled and elderly, or the maintenance of parkland.

Those who were guilty of committing non-violent crimes, carried out through greed, were also punished by working in unpaid service to the community, with a further penalty; that a percentage of their assets were taken away, rather like paying a fine in Monopoly.”

Chapter Eleven of The Imperialist Club for Gentlemen Zombie Uprising

Martin arrives at the riverbank dressed in a blue-grey velveteen suit, an old fashioned pair of brown brogues, a crisply pressed white shirt and a wide, midnight-blue silk tie.

“What?!” – Sir Martin shouts, as he leans towards his friend, so he might hear what Martin has to say.

“I said; they are really stepping it up! The noise coming from the laboratory has reached a crescendo! Soon, there may be thousands of clones! We must find a way to attract them all if the people’s revolution is to succeed!”

Sir Martin lowers his eyes, smiles, nods, and wags his finger to the venue’s beat, to let Martin know he has understood, and begins to search through the categories of vinyl. Sir Martin tugs his friend’s sleeve and points to a heading which reads ‘Desert Island Discs for Politicians’ before randomly selecting a record and placing it on the turntable. The crowd of clones roar when the needle bites the groove, and one of their all-time favourites blares out across the landscape.

“TWO LITTLE BOYS HAD TWO LITTLE TOYS – EACH HAD A WOODEN LEG!”

The riverside rocks, and the landscape is soon peppered with approaching figures. Every clone MEOP has produced heads towards the venue, with their heads flollolopping like the Michelin Man’s testes in a hurricane. Martin strolls among the clones, telling them about the hippies and the punks – of their ideals; their dream of a peaceful, fair, just world.

Although Sir Martin and Martin know they can do no more, since the CWO has started to roll, and it is the people who must keep it rolling, all over the world, they are still busy; training the politicians who will become the first true representatives of the Earth’s people, reflecting the true nature of humankind, rather than the nature of an almost imperceptible self-serving minority and the political parties they represent – the world’s so-called elite.

A tear of joy escapes the confines of a nasolacrimal duct and hurries down Sir Martin’s noble nose, until it reaches a nostril. Sir Martin sniffs a loud, happy sniff. The tear shoots up the nostril and abseils down the back of his throat – on a strand of snot – which encourages Sir Martin to erupt into a colossal coughing fit. He coughs and farts and hacks and farts and farts and coughs until he collapses among the grass, stretching towards the heavens, and laughs as he listens to his very best friend in the world, Sir Martin, reciting The last chapter of The Last Revolution – the words of which drift among the lyrics of some song, from some time, that speaks, as so many songs had, throughout history, of humankind’s desire to live in a peaceful, fair, harmonious world – the world the world has always dreamed of living in.

“Since so many wished to participate in the design of their society and global civilisation, restrictions were imposed to determine who could and who could not become a world-builder. Athenian Democracy – the root of democracy, developed in Ancient Greece some two thousand years before – had imposed restrictions too, which were continuously revised, so an increasing number of people could participate in society’s design.

A certain standard of education was deemed an appropriate measure to impose, for those wishing to become involved in modern-day democracy, which had the immediate effect of encouraging the world’s students to excel in their studies. The intelligence of the human race increased dramatically. Few were late for school, and even less played truant. Being a ‘swot’ was not considered uncool, rather; it was a level of commitment most aspired to attain.

Those who worked within the field of education, such as schoolteachers, mature students and professors, re-designed the education system. The result of their debate decreed the school day should commence at ten in the morning, so students arrived refreshed and rested for their classes, and conclude at three, so their minds did not become overburdened.

Although a restriction was imposed, regarding the amount of homework a teacher may demand of their students – no more than a half hour each day – many students chose to exceed this limit, and it was not unusual for a teacher’s pupils to advance to the next year’s classes before they were required to do so. Methods to improve the manner in which students learned were sought continuously, such as those which relied on a student’s curiosity and natural desire to learn, like the Steiner School’s technique.

History was a subject that enjoyed the most dramatic overhaul. Every event throughout history was analysed anew. The actions of ancestors, students of the past were taught to admire, fell under a scrutinous gaze. Christopher Columbus fell from grace, and the sweetness of sugar turned sour. The study of history in this sense propelled the advance of the modern world, since efforts were made to rectify the errors of the past.

The sorrowful reservations, where the Native American Indians were forced to live, were replaced with vast expanses of prime prairie and farmland. A day of thanksgiving allowed the American people to express their gratitude to the Native American Indians, for allowing the peoples of other lands to populate theirs, and old Westerns, romanticising the ‘Cowboy and Indian’ feuds of the distant past, grew brittle and discoloured through neglect.

The pride of many nations became tainted with humility, yet a new-found sense of dignity rose from their shame, since those they had once treated with disrespect responded to their sorrow with forgiveness and a wish for a new beginning. The Out of Africa theory was taught in schools, which informed students that Africa was the motherland of all.

The border lines upon the map of Africa were erased and drawn anew, by Africans, who divided the continent in a manner that reflected the diversity of culture, rather than its colonial past, when the continent had been treated as though it were a cake shared among those who had stolen it. The contemplation of the slave trade ensured racism, in any shape or form, towards any of the Earth’s peoples, became a hate crime, rather than an attitude one may express through the freedom of speech act.

Religious studies helped to heal feuds between the peoples of all faiths, since students were taught the various religions were, more than likely, the result of considering the phenomenon of God, or the Gods, in a world divided by borders, language and culture, and there must therefore only be the one God, or Gods, watching over the whole of humankind.

As a result of considering this concept, representatives of the world’s mainstream religions created a world bible – a fusion of religion and spiritual philosophy – within which common themes emerged. For instance; in the bible, Luke 6:31, it states;

‘Do to others as you would have them do to you.’

And in the Buddhist scriptures, Dhammapada 10:1;

‘Consider others as yourself.’

As time passed by in this manner, forgiveness and understanding began to displace resentment and ignorance. The world marched towards a bright, new future at an almost alarming rate. Once every child was educated to the highest of standards, human innovation reached the pinnacle of its potential. Rather than sorrowful scenarios caused by human incompetence and ignorance, headlines announcing humankind’s splendid advance adorned the front pages of every day’s newspapers.

When global civilisation began to function like a well-designed machine, and few changes were deemed necessary to improve its efficiency, humankind settled into a new, meaningful way of life. They had designed a world they wished to live in; a world they could describe to their children and pass on to future generations without experiencing a sense of shame. Their willing effort contributed to the growth of an Earthly paradise, within which humankind lived together in peaceful, joyful harmony, rather than existing fearfully in a hell they had been forced to create.

However, this world of contemplation will end now, for it is nothing but a dream. Yet, that is how humankind’s inventions begin – as a thought, a concept, an idea; a dream. If it is deemed worthy of the effort required to enable its manifestation in reality, it is seen as a challenge.

Humankind’s dreams have created many challenges throughout the passage of time. To fly. To explore space. To probe the deepest depths of the seas and oceans.

So, perhaps it is time to take the first step and begin to dream of the world we wish to live in; a world we would enjoy creating and describing to our children. A world we would hand to future generations as a precious gift, rather than a sorrowful catastrophe.

The second step is to believe dreams have the power to manifest in reality, and regard the dream as a challenge. So, dream is all one should do for the time being. That’s how the Last Revolution will begin; with a dream of paradise on Earth.”



Continue Reading Next Chapter

About Us

Inkitt is the world’s first reader-powered publisher, providing a platform to discover hidden talents and turn them into globally successful authors. Write captivating stories, read enchanting novels, and we’ll publish the books our readers love most on our sister app, GALATEA and other formats.