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The biggest guns

August 11, 2016   ·   0 Comments

Once there was a very spoilt little boy named D****, whose wealthy father owned lots of guns – big, small, really dangerous and radically dangerous. D**** loved the guns and his father loved him and let him handle and play with the guns as much as he wanted to, except for the radically dangerous guns.

“They’re too heavy for you,” he told the boy.

So, D**** worked hard to grow up strong and fierce so that his father would let him handle those biggest guns. By the time he was 15, the neighbours all around for miles and kilometres lived in constant fear. They sold their houses and then, the new owners would sell again and no one eve admitted the reason for selling was D****, for he was finally strong enough to handle the radically dangerous guns and he was nagging at this father to let him.

Now, at long last, his father had to tell D**** the truth about the those guns, because he had not explained before the risk of using them, how they could blow a house apart with just one shot, how they left noxious fumes behind that poisoned the whole area of the blown-up house for a long way around and for many months. None of the explanations mattered to D**** – he didn’t believe it anyway; he didn’t care; he just wanted to try one – just once – just to see.

“What’s the point of having them, if we can’t use them?” he demanded.

His father told him, with real regret in his voice, “We wish we had never invented them. They’re ridiculously dangerous and as unsafe for us as for the people we’re attacking.”

When his father died, D**** was 22 years old. He was elated over his father’s death because he was about to inherit all the guns, all of them, do you hear – and he was very excited.

They were securely stored in a locked safe in the basement of the mansion. The radically dangerous guns were kept out of sight. D**** always thought he knew right where they were, as they were the main focus of his interest for many years.

In that moment, he realized he had no idea where they were nor how to get at them. Worst of all, he could not find the keys or the combination to the safe, so that all the guns were locked up out of his reach.

He went berserk. He screamed at their servants. He threatened his father’s valet; he took every kind of tool to destroy the entire safe and find those guns. He managed to break down the outer gate.

Victorious, D**** pressed on, manically determined to find, to shoot, every gun his father had stored there. He was using a huge torch, with a flame like a dragon’s to burn through the heavy steel casing of the safe itself when, suddenly, there was a mighty explosion inside the safe and the whole room, the safe and everything in it, every gun, shelf, everything began to melt. The hot metal was flowing, burning his shoes, destroying all within and without.

The radically dangerous guns were taken from him without his ever having shot even one.

The cruel frustration of that moment never left him. He left the mansion he had lived in all his life and went out into the world to find other opportunities. D**** went into business like his father but did not have the same smarts and so, did badly, lost some money but there was lots of money so no one noticed how badly he did in business. He tried one thing after another until he happened  upon – national leadership.

He was watching one of his own television shows – it was about guns. They were talking about weapons people had and those the government had.

In a flash, D**** saw his wildest dream come true: the government had really radically dangerous weapons that could blow away a whole city in one shot, never mind that those noxious fumes would ruin the whole part of the world – maybe for centuries! He didn’t care about that – no, D**** only cared that he could pursue a chance at the ultimately dangerous weapon there ever was.

What a bang that would be.

So, he chased, like a crazy man, for national leadership and it seemed that he was very good at the chasing, for people liked his craziness. He said every terrible thing he could think of and they liked him all the better. No matter how outrageous he was, his chances at those weapons grew closer all the time.

And through all the speeches and campaigning, D****’s ultimate question was: “If we have those nuclear weapons, why can’t we use them?”

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