Europa

Ever since Amerika has disappeared, the Supreme Chancellor of Europa and his military apparatus have been on high alert. Caustic with fear and paranoia that they could be next, the Supreme Chancellor’s Purple Guard and the D.S.V. now rule the walled- in jigsaw of nation states with an iron fist- and the occasional motivational slogan. Dogs and baboons in military uniforms routinely march on the streets, rockets are tested fired into the Atlantic in the direction of the disappeared continent, huge air balloons release hourly precipitations of info confetti upon the hoi-polloi as special treats, service announcements and surveillance alerts blare out of static filled speakers on every street corner, sprawling Mar-a-Lago detention centers are strained by the large influx of newly arrived American refugees. But the fires of revolution are starting to stir in the ancient forges of Europa. Now rumors are circulating that the steady stream of American refugees have been infiltrated by infernal forces. All six thousand paintings of the Supreme at the National Portrait Gallery have vanished overnight. Postal services are in flux. Carousels are all turning in the wrong direction. The Roshlon mannequin of the Great Dictator Himself at the Albion Waxworks seems to have been reassigned to the Fifth Dimension. Chimneys over London release huge clouds of blackened smoke in fearful symmetries. Suddenly Travel Writers, Epic Poets and the occasional Pamphleteer are subject to increased scrutiny and suspicion… Meanwhile the Eternal Detective, long dormant in a strange, fugue-like space, has begun to stir…