I am currently re-reading Douglas Adam’s The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, a humoristic classic of the sci-fi genre. When I came to the passage where the Imperial Trans-galactic Council was imperial in name only, because the Emperor was in stasis and had been for quite some time, my fantasy started to run amok and I embroidered the following sequence to go with it:
The Imperial Trans-galactic Council, after having concocted whichever hair-brained scheme that turned their fancy, would come to His Imperial Majesty (in stasis) to ask for his approval, on the understanding that silence meant agreement. They could therefore effectively issue any Imperial Edict they chose, except for that one instance 33,741 light years ago, when the council had asked the Emperor for his approval for discontinuing the universal practice of intergalactic citizens of having cream with their coffee and this for the excellent reason that cows had by then become extinct. But His Highness had mysteriously, but distinctly broken wind.
They were forced to admit that on the face of it, or rather the ass of it, this could be construed as disapproval. Furthermore, the Imperial Fart had been the opposite from silent and thus approval had been withheld. An alternative was adopted in the form of sheep’s milk to go with galactic coffee everywhere. This fateful occurrence had led to the creation of a brand new branch of science, namely that of fartology, which endeavoured to fathom the true meaning of the Imperial Fart. Whole libraries have by now been filled with thick tomes on the subject.
The council have wisely kept the debate of whether or not to keep taking sugar with ones coffee far from the Emperor’s discerning presence, for fear of more rectal disapproval.
End of embroidery. There you have it, dear readers, just when you were practically sure that yours truly had put his anal phase behind him, he manages to surprise you yet again!