Good morning. It is I, King Radama II. This is my story. As a small boy, my mother sent me to live abroad. To England, in fact. As she hated all Westerners, all things Western and anything related to boats, I have always questioned this decision. My Aunt Freida insists mother loved me. I have my doubts.
But I digress. I was sent to England and educated in the finest institutions of Higher Learning, from Public School 54 on West Manchester Avenue, for my early learning, to my days at the College, or Uni, as us highly educated chaps refer to it.
West Birmingham Valley Community College, where King Radama earned a double Associates Degree in Philosophy and Women’s Studies
In that time, I have grown to love the magnificence, the culture, the learning, and – yes, even the Cricket! Oh Merry England, Island of Magic. How I love you!
Only then, my glorious youth was snatched from me, even as I earned a spot as Assistant Equipment Manager on the College Rugby team, fate was laughing at me. Back home, you see, mother had perished. Slipped on a Yaro root while kicking some street urchins. She died. They stole her watch.
I was summoned home immediately to assume the Throne. I went from my life of Academia and my Chums and Sport and instead had the difficulties of ruling laid upon my youthful shoulders. But, if I learned anything from my time in England, it was the stiff upper lip. I returned without too much weeping. There, I was crowned King in a touching ceremony and escorted to the Imperial Palace.
The Royal Palace. That’s Aunt Freida in the doorway. As a Widow and Member of the Royal Family, she is allowed to live in the Palace with her 9 children. She’s only pretending to sweep. Posing for the camera. That work is usually done by the Butler or the 2 live in maids.
It was then that I forgot my stiff upper lip for a bit.
When the Ministers found me and dragged me off the Tramp Clipper Bedouin
I realized that there would be no escape. I was stuck here and would have to make the best of it.
I decided then and there, someday I would live in a Palace as glorious as the West Birmingham Valley Community College Student Dormitories. Of course, this would require Westernization. A process the People, a suspicious lot, might not go for.
They do seem a bit skeptical of the process.
But I shall bring the British Public School ‘Can Do’ Spirit to this project. Someday, we shall be the Britain of Africa! Stake It UK!
Now then, what have we to work with?
What we have to work with are a bunch of Lemur-Worshiping, Conservative Artisans and Miners. Oh, and Slaves. Kind of the Anti-Britain if you really think about it.
We also have a tidy budget surplus and a well-fed populous. Really quite a lot to work with here!
And here is the politics of my Kingdom. I am an Absolute Monarch, which should make bending the nation to my new vision very easy. We do have quite a lot to do before we can Westernize, so I’ve directed the Faculty and Teachers Assistants of Eastern Middleview Valley Regional Technical College, our Finest Institution of Higher Learning, to start unlocking the Secrets of Post-Napoleonic Thought as our first step.
The EMVRTC Fighting Lemurs Glee Club “Lemurs 4Ever!”
And so, my rule begins!
One Month Later
What! A 45 Pound Daily Deficit? What the Hell people!