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Story / Fantasy
Species German Shepherd
Size 120 x 80
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Soapbox
© 2023 by Walter Reimer
Temporal Corps courtesy of
marmelmm. Thanks!
Thumbnail art by Stock Footage
It was a beautiful early May day for a walk, the German Shepherd thought to himself.
It was, really: Sunny, mild, and a lovely breeze coming from the west, and the black and brown-furred canine was obviously enjoying walking aimlessly around the park. The pleasant weather had attracted other furs to the park, and for a while the canine simply watched and smiled as children ran about and played.
A few people smiled and one or two actually laughed at his shirt, which was a plain white t-shirt bearing a widely smiling generic canine face and the words
superimposed over the face in stark black.
His ears perked at the sound of a mel’s raised voice, and he altered his path to one of the fishing piers to go see what was going on. He’d been planning on feeding the ducks, but the ducks could stand to wait a while.
“ – Existing order’s rotten to its very core, my friends, and when the Revolution comes, as it inevitably will, there will be a reckoning with all the rich people who are intent on keeping people like you down!”
The speaker, the canine discovered, was a pika. The rodent was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt for the mild weather, but there was a strange gleam in his eyes. The canine recognized that look.
The eyes of a fanatic.
He’d even brought a stout wooden box to stand on. Seriously, who does that?
A small crowd had gathered to listen to him, and the dog joined the group. Slowly, so slowly that nobody really noticed, the Shepherd gradually moved through the growing number of people to end up standing in the front row, ears canted forward attentively as his tail wagged gently.
“The proletariat of this great nation,” the pika was warming to his subject, “the workers, the toilers, people like you who earn your living, need leadership to make the Revolution happen, and I and my fellow Party members – “
“Excuse me,” the canine said suddenly, “but how do you propose to lead the workers?”
The pika favored the dog with an almost condescending smile. "I tell you, friend, that the vanguard of the proletariat - "
"And who's that, then? The vanguard, I mean."
"Why, the revolutionary party is the vanguard - "
"And do the proletariat have a say in this?"
"Of course not! The proletariat must be led - "
"So they're sheep, are they?" the canine asked.
“Careful how you answer that,” a muscular ram wearing a wifebeater adorned with the logo of a local gym growled.
“No, I’m not going to get drawn into that,” the pika said to the ram, “but to answer your question,” he said to the German Shepherd, “history shows us that the proletariat are essentially conservative, willing to suffer under the paw of their oppressors or to find a compromise that fills their bellies but gives them nothing else.”
“So the workers alone can’t do this ‘revolution’ of yours by themselves?” Ears were swiveling as the crowd listened to the back-and-forth.
“As a class, the proletariat are incapable of being spontaneous – “
“Tell me about it,” a middle-aged bull said. “Last time I was ‘spontaneous’ with my wife, they made us leave the movie theater,” and he grinned as the crowd chuckled.
“But the masses need leadership!” the pika said in an effort to regain control of the situation, thumping his right fist into his left palm to emphasize his words. “Only the Party, with its theoretical – “
“Theory, eh?” the canine asked, followed by a “Hmmph!” of derision. “Look, you want to lead the people, right?”
“Yes, to overthrow the current oppressive order – “
“So, what do you do for a living?”
“What?”
“You want to lead the workers, so what do you do for a living?”
“I work for the Revolution – “
“Really?” one woman asked, the vixen holding her baby in her arms. “How much does that pay?” A few furs chuckled.
“The Revolution needs leaders!” the pika said, his voice rising to cut through the gabble. “When the breaking point comes, as it inevitably will – “
“’Inevitably?’” the German Shepherd asked in a clearly skeptical tone.
The pika said irritably, “YES, it is historically inevitable that the Revolution will come, when more and more paws must work so that fewer and fewer paws can enjoy the fruits of your labors, when it’s obvious to everyone that the system is rotten right down to its foundations, THAT’S when the Party will lead the people to overthrow the established order – “
“I ain’t liking that,” and heads turned to look at an elderly goat in a powered wheelchair. He wore a baseball cap that bore the word VETERAN and the likeness of a military decoration. “What’s the Army gonna be doin’ all this time, Sonny?”
“The Army is drawn from the masses,” the pika said, trying masterfully to contain his rising temper, “and they’ll throw off their shackles and join us – “
“And what do you mean by that?” the canine asked.
“What?”
“What do you mean by ‘throw off their shackles?’”
“They’ll rebel against their officers, and the oppressive government.”
“And you don’t do any work?” the vixen asked.
“I work for the Revolution!” the rodent snapped. “I have spent years doing that!”
“You mean you weren’t even a fry cook at Burger Mensch?” the canine asked. A few furs started laughing. “You want to know what I think?”
“No,” the pika said. “You – “
“I do,” the elderly veteran said. A few others called out encouragement.
“Okay,” the German shepherd said, and he looked up at the pika on his box. “I think you’re just a bum.”
The pika looked startled. “A – “
“Yeah, a bum. You propose to set yourself up as a leader of the people, but you’ve never done anything to help them identify with you as a member of their class.” The canine gave a dismissive wave of his paw. “You’re just a phony and a bum.”
The pika gaped at him as the rest of the crowd murmured agreement and began to disperse. Eventually the only two furs left were the rodent and the canine.
“You – “ the pika raised a shaking, accusatory finger and leveled it at the German Shepherd, who put his paws in his pockets and regarded him coolly. After a few moments, the rodent sighed, defeated, and stepped down from the box. Picking it up, he hurried away.
The German Shepherd took a breath and started walking in the opposite direction, headed back to the dock so he could feed the ducks. They were likely waiting impatiently.
“Fred?” A voice whispered in his mind.
“I’m here,” he murmured. To any outside observer, it was like he was possibly talking to himself.
“Is it done?”
“Yeah. He’s walking away to Mama’s basement.” He stopped at a machine and spent a couple coins to get a pawful of food for the ducks. The sound of the machine alerted the birds, and with a great tumult of quacking they started gathering at the base of the pier. “Effect?”
“Still running all the possible outcomes. Wait one.”
The ducks were happy to see him, and they squabbled among themselves and greedily lunged at the morsels he slowly tossed out to them. The canine smiled as they flapped and quacked and ate.
“Phew,” the voice said. “Four thousand two hundred-plus POs, but you did it.”
Fred slowly exhaled a breath he wasn’t aware he had been holding. Had the Temporal Corps not intervened, the pika would have gone on to lead a violent, successful revolution that would have led to a nuclear exchange resulting in the death of the entire planet’s biosphere.
For a moment, a matter of seconds, he wondered how many possible outcomes had involved him murdering the pika and the small social media group that he called ‘the revolutionary vanguard.’ Wondered, and just as quickly dismissed it; that wasn’t a healthy line of thought to pursue.
“Good,” he murmured. “All a matter of choosing the right fur at the right moment. We QX, then?”
“Everything on the green,” his control officer said, “and you’re go for exfil at your discretion.”
“Good.” Fred was happy that he didn’t have to leave quickly.
He still had to finish feeding the ducks.
end
© 2023 by Walter Reimer
Temporal Corps courtesy of
marmelmm. Thanks!Thumbnail art by Stock Footage
It was a beautiful early May day for a walk, the German Shepherd thought to himself.
It was, really: Sunny, mild, and a lovely breeze coming from the west, and the black and brown-furred canine was obviously enjoying walking aimlessly around the park. The pleasant weather had attracted other furs to the park, and for a while the canine simply watched and smiled as children ran about and played.
A few people smiled and one or two actually laughed at his shirt, which was a plain white t-shirt bearing a widely smiling generic canine face and the words
Hi! I’m
SCUM!superimposed over the face in stark black.
His ears perked at the sound of a mel’s raised voice, and he altered his path to one of the fishing piers to go see what was going on. He’d been planning on feeding the ducks, but the ducks could stand to wait a while.
“ – Existing order’s rotten to its very core, my friends, and when the Revolution comes, as it inevitably will, there will be a reckoning with all the rich people who are intent on keeping people like you down!”
The speaker, the canine discovered, was a pika. The rodent was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt for the mild weather, but there was a strange gleam in his eyes. The canine recognized that look.
The eyes of a fanatic.
He’d even brought a stout wooden box to stand on. Seriously, who does that?
A small crowd had gathered to listen to him, and the dog joined the group. Slowly, so slowly that nobody really noticed, the Shepherd gradually moved through the growing number of people to end up standing in the front row, ears canted forward attentively as his tail wagged gently.
“The proletariat of this great nation,” the pika was warming to his subject, “the workers, the toilers, people like you who earn your living, need leadership to make the Revolution happen, and I and my fellow Party members – “
“Excuse me,” the canine said suddenly, “but how do you propose to lead the workers?”
The pika favored the dog with an almost condescending smile. "I tell you, friend, that the vanguard of the proletariat - "
"And who's that, then? The vanguard, I mean."
"Why, the revolutionary party is the vanguard - "
"And do the proletariat have a say in this?"
"Of course not! The proletariat must be led - "
"So they're sheep, are they?" the canine asked.
“Careful how you answer that,” a muscular ram wearing a wifebeater adorned with the logo of a local gym growled.
“No, I’m not going to get drawn into that,” the pika said to the ram, “but to answer your question,” he said to the German Shepherd, “history shows us that the proletariat are essentially conservative, willing to suffer under the paw of their oppressors or to find a compromise that fills their bellies but gives them nothing else.”
“So the workers alone can’t do this ‘revolution’ of yours by themselves?” Ears were swiveling as the crowd listened to the back-and-forth.
“As a class, the proletariat are incapable of being spontaneous – “
“Tell me about it,” a middle-aged bull said. “Last time I was ‘spontaneous’ with my wife, they made us leave the movie theater,” and he grinned as the crowd chuckled.
“But the masses need leadership!” the pika said in an effort to regain control of the situation, thumping his right fist into his left palm to emphasize his words. “Only the Party, with its theoretical – “
“Theory, eh?” the canine asked, followed by a “Hmmph!” of derision. “Look, you want to lead the people, right?”
“Yes, to overthrow the current oppressive order – “
“So, what do you do for a living?”
“What?”
“You want to lead the workers, so what do you do for a living?”
“I work for the Revolution – “
“Really?” one woman asked, the vixen holding her baby in her arms. “How much does that pay?” A few furs chuckled.
“The Revolution needs leaders!” the pika said, his voice rising to cut through the gabble. “When the breaking point comes, as it inevitably will – “
“’Inevitably?’” the German Shepherd asked in a clearly skeptical tone.
The pika said irritably, “YES, it is historically inevitable that the Revolution will come, when more and more paws must work so that fewer and fewer paws can enjoy the fruits of your labors, when it’s obvious to everyone that the system is rotten right down to its foundations, THAT’S when the Party will lead the people to overthrow the established order – “
“I ain’t liking that,” and heads turned to look at an elderly goat in a powered wheelchair. He wore a baseball cap that bore the word VETERAN and the likeness of a military decoration. “What’s the Army gonna be doin’ all this time, Sonny?”
“The Army is drawn from the masses,” the pika said, trying masterfully to contain his rising temper, “and they’ll throw off their shackles and join us – “
“And what do you mean by that?” the canine asked.
“What?”
“What do you mean by ‘throw off their shackles?’”
“They’ll rebel against their officers, and the oppressive government.”
“And you don’t do any work?” the vixen asked.
“I work for the Revolution!” the rodent snapped. “I have spent years doing that!”
“You mean you weren’t even a fry cook at Burger Mensch?” the canine asked. A few furs started laughing. “You want to know what I think?”
“No,” the pika said. “You – “
“I do,” the elderly veteran said. A few others called out encouragement.
“Okay,” the German shepherd said, and he looked up at the pika on his box. “I think you’re just a bum.”
The pika looked startled. “A – “
“Yeah, a bum. You propose to set yourself up as a leader of the people, but you’ve never done anything to help them identify with you as a member of their class.” The canine gave a dismissive wave of his paw. “You’re just a phony and a bum.”
The pika gaped at him as the rest of the crowd murmured agreement and began to disperse. Eventually the only two furs left were the rodent and the canine.
“You – “ the pika raised a shaking, accusatory finger and leveled it at the German Shepherd, who put his paws in his pockets and regarded him coolly. After a few moments, the rodent sighed, defeated, and stepped down from the box. Picking it up, he hurried away.
The German Shepherd took a breath and started walking in the opposite direction, headed back to the dock so he could feed the ducks. They were likely waiting impatiently.
“Fred?” A voice whispered in his mind.
“I’m here,” he murmured. To any outside observer, it was like he was possibly talking to himself.
“Is it done?”
“Yeah. He’s walking away to Mama’s basement.” He stopped at a machine and spent a couple coins to get a pawful of food for the ducks. The sound of the machine alerted the birds, and with a great tumult of quacking they started gathering at the base of the pier. “Effect?”
“Still running all the possible outcomes. Wait one.”
The ducks were happy to see him, and they squabbled among themselves and greedily lunged at the morsels he slowly tossed out to them. The canine smiled as they flapped and quacked and ate.
“Phew,” the voice said. “Four thousand two hundred-plus POs, but you did it.”
Fred slowly exhaled a breath he wasn’t aware he had been holding. Had the Temporal Corps not intervened, the pika would have gone on to lead a violent, successful revolution that would have led to a nuclear exchange resulting in the death of the entire planet’s biosphere.
For a moment, a matter of seconds, he wondered how many possible outcomes had involved him murdering the pika and the small social media group that he called ‘the revolutionary vanguard.’ Wondered, and just as quickly dismissed it; that wasn’t a healthy line of thought to pursue.
“Good,” he murmured. “All a matter of choosing the right fur at the right moment. We QX, then?”
“Everything on the green,” his control officer said, “and you’re go for exfil at your discretion.”
“Good.” Fred was happy that he didn’t have to leave quickly.
He still had to finish feeding the ducks.
end
Category Story / Fantasy
Species German Shepherd
Size 120 x 80px
File Size 45.2 kB
I'd read this just before getting to work this morning and on the surface, it reminded me of this scene in chapter seven of A Busy Half Centur.
Then when Fred started thinking of possible alternative outcomes....
That got dark really quickly. Nice one. T'was in my thoughts all day today.
Then when Fred started thinking of possible alternative outcomes....
That got dark really quickly. Nice one. T'was in my thoughts all day today.
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