|This tale has been told! It's done!|
Capitalists Only is a strange tale where TurtleShroom (penguin) tries to get into a festival being thrown by Das Kapibbles, the most Laissez-faire, hardcore, working-class hating capitalist in Antarctica. While TSP is wealthy and ruthless at times (and he hates minimum wage), he still supports things like pension and basic insurance for geezers, governmental charity to the poor, and workers' safety. This puts him at odds with the hard-core capitalists that think seniors or the poor don't deserve free money or Medicare, but should have worked on it on their own. While has has a lot in common with them, he differs when it comes to old people. TurtleShroom just loves old people.
Chapter One: Invitation
The alarm clock rang as TurtleShroom (penguin) stirred out of his sleeping chambers. Groggy and with darkened feathers under his eyes, he yawned and waddled out to turn off the clock. He went into the bathroom to examine himself, looking at the powerful figure that reflected back at him. He was wearing his usual and embarrassing black pajamas with feet, adorned with little red crosses and elephants, and his nightcap.
"Uhh... I hate mornings."
The dictator removed his pajamas and preened himself. Satisfied he placed his usual outfit on. He first put the vests and undershirts used for his musty brown jacket, which he skillfully buttoned and straightened, following by putting the usual green holly in the lapel. Pleased with what he saw, he tied his white bow tie on and draped his purple sash over him. He smiled.
TurtleShroom then went into his office, connected to his bedroom, and into the closet attached there. He closed the door of the walk-in room and pushed aside some suits, robes, and shirts until he found what he was searching for. It was his crown; this was the symbol of his (rescinded) power and his pride and joy. He examined the triple-tiered headgear for any smudges or specks, before deftly placing it on his bald head. At last, he finished his morning rituals.
He had plenty of time and not much to do. Holyberden closes on Sundays, the Un-CP was eerily quiet, the MMK was off season, and no one really needed him. TurtleShroom was free all day long.
"I might as well head outside." he thought.
Travelling down the hallways and passing the many doors and corridors to the grand entrance at the foyer, TurtleShroom happened to notice that someone had scribbled on his Talk Page. The flashing light next to the door indicated this.
TS exited his palace and shut the door behind him as he looked across his expansive Usapaje with a smile. He waddled down the steps and took a quick left, beginning to go behind his palace. Unlike many, TurtleShroom's talk page wasn't a Leenk or its own thing. It was simply the blank walls on the back of his expansive residence. Creatures would spray-paint messages on it, and he'd read them. A CPW employee usually maintained and removed vandalism for him.
Today, though, he was intrigued by a message that was new to him.
To Antarctica's Elite Few:
I have contacted you with an invitation to my mansion for a gathering of capitalists and oppressors of the proletariat. The privileged penguins and other creatures who maintain a concentration of power and money, so to speak. I hope that you will take time fromI hope to see you there.
exploitingreaping the fruits of your penguin resourcesemployees and from making money to visit me.
I guarantee that it will be a party to remember. We will indulge in the finest of foods, luxuries, and other things that only the upper crust can partake in. We will celebrate capitalism and the individual success of the captains of industry that attend and then have a magnificent snowball fight to end the day. I might even have a silent auction for some of my expensive goods.
Signed with an engraved, platinum-coated pen using the blood, sweat, and tears of the workers as ink,
"A capitalist party?" TurtleShroom asked to himself. "Hey, I know what I'm going to do today!"
TS smiled widely as he went back to the front of his palace to lock it up. He did so, and then teleported to the gates of the Weekee.
Chapter Two: How Capitalist Are 'Ya
TurtleShroom climbed into a limousine that had been parked for him. He still couldn't drive, so a chauffeur was a must.
"Good day, sire." the chauffeur said with a lisp. "Where can I take you today?"
"Do you know where a creature named 'Das Kapibbles' is, friend?"
"Yes, your majesty."
"Would you please take me there?"
"Yes, your majesty."
They sped off.
TurtleShroom was escorted to the entrance of Das Kapibbles' property. Just when he thought a four-story palace was the biggest thing there was, he saw this! As he got out of the limousine, his beak would have dropped to the floor if it was able.
It was a mansion of the finest brick and marble. It was at least six stories tall and must have had over forty bathrooms!
"Merciful Huckabee..." TS muttered to himself, in awe and a hint of jealousy.
The iron gates fencing off the property opened for the limousine and they pulled in, only to be checked by guards for any weapons. The Rod of Jesse was approved beforehand, so there were no problems with it. One of Kapibbles' butlers opened the door for TurtleShroom. Two butlers then jumped out of nowhere and knelt down to serve as stairs for the dictator.
The door butler whispered to him.
"Master Kapibbles pays them to serve as steps. You step on them to get out of your car."
TurtleShroom made a weird face that looked like a combination of pity, disgust, and humor.
"No thank you... I won't step on someone's butler."
The stair butlers got back up and thanked TurtleShroom. TS handed all three a hearty tip as he let himself out.
TurtleShroom waddled up the cobblestone driveway as the butlers looked on.
"A tip!" the taller stair butler stated.
"Indeed!" the door butler chimed in, looking at his sack of golden coins.
"Heh. With compassion like that, he won't last a day before Master Kapibbles."
"Indeed." the other two concurred.
Approaching the door, he was surprised to see a line of other obviously wealthy penguins in front of him. A bouncer was at the entrance, standing with a velvet rope over one of the double doors that served as an entrance to the manor. TS, leaning in closely, could hear them talk.
"Welcome to Kapibbles Manor. How capitalist are 'ya?" the bouncer began.
"I just fired ten meritable factory workers for being too slow."
"Without giving them a gift basket before they left."
"OH. Go right in."
"Welcome to Kapibbles Manor. How capitalist are 'ya?"
"I annihilated a worker's union with detectives."
"Go on in."
It was TurtleShroom's turn.
"Welcome to Kapibbles Manor. How capitalist are 'ya?"
"How capitalist am I? Well, I own a successful and multi-million dollar company!"
"So does my grandma. Anything else?"
"I hate minimum wage."
"Stop wasting my time. I can just look at you and tell that you have sympathy for the workers."
"I'll have you know, I didn't give this hobo some of my money and I only felt guilty for the rest of the day."
"Heh. Listen, kid, you'd feel guilty stepping in here. Why not check out that social establishment?"
TurtleShroom looked behind him to see the building.
TurtleShroom furrowed his brow.
"Well, I'm not going. I'd never be caught dead in-"
Chapter Three: a Bushel of Weenies
"I can't believe I'm in Compassionate Conservatives' Weenie Barn."
TurtleShroom pulled up a bar stool and sat down. Patriotic colors and items adorned the building, but there were several brochures for private-sector charities scattered across the table. Applications for Medicare and what-not were on the distant tables, and the manager nearby was carrying a gun. Various other weenies were discussing politics and how welfare needed to be reformed so that the poor get what they deserve and those who should help themselves stop mooching. Signs on the walls announced the no-swearing policy of the building, and various pro-USA propaganda (and also military recruiting posters) were plastered near the entrance. Yep; it was clear that TS was amongst his own ideology.
The waiter came up to him, scrubbing a large glass with a towel. He had a button on that said "I HEART MEDICARE".
"Hello. Would you like a hot dog, weenie?"
"I am NOT a weenie."
The waiter looked TurtleShroom over.
"Sorry, but I am pretty sure you are a weenie."
"I AM NOT!"
The waiter pointed to a hot dog.
TurtleShroom crossed his flippers and frowned. Two balding and greying penguins in suits, each wearing cowboy hats and belts with large buckles, noticed him.
"Hey George, look. Is that TurtleShroo Jones?" the first said, obviously much older than the other. He was elderly and had a cane, but he bore a striking resemblance to the second penguin, probably a family one.
"Golly Dad, I think it is!" the other replied, this one with much more vigor of youth in him and less of an accent. He also seemed to use simple words.
"Well come on then, we'd better go and greet 'im before he gets a-goin'!"
George and Herbert went up to TurtleShroom and tapped him on the back.
"Oh. Hello." he said.
"Are you TURTLESHROOM?" George asked.
"I am he."
"BY THE GREAT OIL DERRICK I KNEW IT." George shouted. "Herbert, we found 'im!"
Herbert, the older one, smiled.
"TurtleShroom, I'm so glad I finally get ta meet ya in da flesh. I'm olduh than ya'll, but I must say in person that ya really know yer ideologies, a-yup. Reminds me of mah-self back when I was appointed Prefect o'er that part of the Snowman Em-par I can never actually remember da name of. Yep, ruled just like ya. Georgy here's yer fan."
"Howdy TurtleShroom. I'm such a Turtlenator, ya know... it's... it's good to meet a hero."
TurtleShroom smiled. He loved when his minions praised him. He nodded and shook flippers with the two.
"My name's George; this is my dad, Herbert. Herbert's been in country runnin' a long time, and is usually not into today's commander guys... -but he likes you. Me? I just drill for black stuff. Nothing like the Golds, but I drill. Plannin' on going into country runnin' soon, though. We come here a lot. Matches what we think."
TurtleShroom's smile vanished.
"Well, I am humbled to be praised by you two, but I'm trying to get into Das Kapibbles' party."
"They said no fer good reason." George said flatly.
"Yup. Yer too nice. You gots an affection fer things like free money to yer elders, aidin' tha poor with some gov'ment, 'n Medicare. Costs a lotta money, and them laizzes-fares don't like it." Herbert stated.
"I know, I know... -but I'd be the laughing stock of the free market if I don't get in there."
"Well, I think there's a way in that'll work." George said, winking.
"What is it?"
"It's all about clothes. Dress rich, and yer in. More than just the shiny hat. Pull up in a bigger car. Wear gold on ya. The works. ...-and if that fails, you can always get your hired guys to waterboard 'im."
"You know about the Inquisition?!" TurtleShroom whispered in shock.
"A-yup. If it involves listenin' to phones or doing bad things to the bad guys, I always know it. I've been givin' coins to those guys for a while. I like it."
"Well, I appreciate your help, Mister George. Mister Herbert. Is there anything I can do for you in return?"
"There is one thing..." George said with a ridiculously dumb grin on his face.
"Oh son, not here. Ya'll embarass yerself a-gain!"
"No worries, Herbert. I'll aid anything he seeks."
"Can I have a sock?"
"I want a sock."
TS was confused, but he pulled a pair of socks from his player card and handed them to George.
"AH HEH-HEH-HEH! SOCKS!" George said, with that dumb grin again. He began twirling around the socks like a small child. Herbert shook his head.
"Now ya done it. George may be good with oil and have folk wisdom, but by golly, Turtle, don't try usin' real big words er complex ideas on 'im. I had ta expalin how the country works twice 'dis week."
TurtleShroom frowned in confusion.
TurtleShroom exited the Weenie Barn, determined to get in Das Kapibbles' party.
Chapter Four: He's a Real Maverick
A white limo rolled up to the Kapibbles mansion. Two armed soldiers ran out and opened the door. A penguin baring a striking resemblance to TurtleShroom came out. He looked aged, but not much older than TurtleShroom. He was a darker blue and sported messy black hair and a shaggy beard, with a pair of grey spectacles on his beak. He was wearing some military-like garb and a red sash, which complemented the backpack he held and the hockey stick he held like a weapon.
The stair butlers ran out and were stepped on by the TurtleShroom look-alike, who had the look of a ticked off diplomat, a retired general, and a dirty Pengolian commie combined. Even so, he seemed to exhibit the lack of compassion so known in hardcore capitalists, and he was here for the party. TurtleShroom had obviously made a costume change and staged a fake attitude adjustment with hired Turtlenators dressed as soldiers.
The penguin waddled up to the bouncer.
"Welcome to Kapibbles' Manor. How capitalist are- wait, do I know you?"
"Maybe, maybe not. I quite famous in the tropics for, how you say, 'questionable' acts. My brother is a goody-goody and thinks he's incorruptible. Ha! I wonder how he make money without oppress-"
The bouncer grabbed onto the TurtleShroom.
"Aye carumba!" he shouted. "Gaurds! Gaurds!" Immediately, the soldiers pointed their guns at the bouncer, who laughed heartily.
"Oh, knock it off. You're just that turtle kid in a Hispanic costume. Although, I have to give you credit for the gasoline smell. You really do smell like petroleum."
"What are you talking about? No no no, I Tortugadesetas, Maverick PRESIDENTE! TurtleShroom, that's my brother!"
"Yeah yeah, I-"
A penguin that looked similar to "Tortuga" ran up beside him. This penguin was wearing a long white robe with a treiple-tiered crown (on backwards), as well as a mitre and other garments that made him look a lot like the P.O.P.E. .
"Okay, I know I'm rich enough to get i- TORTUGA?"
"TURTLESHROOM?" Tortuga shouted, and then smiled. "Hola, I have not seen you in how long?"
"About a year, brother, about a year!
The two gave each other a hug. The bouncer looked confused and let go of Tortuga.
"Oh, I'm so sorry about that, uh, President. Go right ahead."
"PRESIDENTE." Tortugadesetas said coldly, ordering the soldiers to lower their guns. "...-and I would be sleeping with one or two eye open if I was to be you. I know how to make disappearances, as they say."
The bouncer gulped, but then straightened up as he turned to TurtleShroom.
"Turtle, we all know it's you."
"Please let me in there, sir. I'll be laughed at by any wealthy penguin in South Pole City if I don't attend!"
"I know. They said the same thing."
The bouncer outstretched a flipper to some assorted and obviously wealthy penguins on the lawn.
"PLEASE LET US IN!" they shouted simulteaneously.
"You're too soft."
"I am not!"
"Okay. I'll let you in," he said as TS perked up, "if you can compensate my error."
"I will NOT bribe you."
"You're too soft. Now, go back to where you belong."
He pointed his flipper once more.
"COMPASSIONATE CONSERVATIVES' WEENIE BARN?! AGAIN?"
"No, I meant that place."
"Well, aren't old geezers moochers when they draw social security?"
Chapter Five: Tied Up
TurtleShroom was back in Compassionate Conservative's Weenie Barn, again pouting.
"Cheer up," said George, back for more hot dogs. "You're among your friends."
"He who sides with me does not attend Compassionate Conservative's Weenie Barn. Only I do."
"YOU TELL 'EM, YOUR MAJESTY!"
TurtleShroom looked to the barstool to the left with widened eyes.
"BOW TIE TOM?! What are you doing here?!"
"Oh, I come every Censors Eat Free Sunday."
"Nope, they moved Censors Eat Free ta Tuesday."
"Yes, but they brought Soldiers Eat Free Tuesday to Friday to swap it out, placing Weaksauce Rightists' Discount Day on Sunday."
The waiter interrupted.
"Bow tie kid, that was Mega Social Democrat's that made a move on Sunday. Remember? Their Solidarity Saturday was swapped out with Patch Up Capitalism Day for the free hot dog. Weaksauce Rightists is was sent to Wednesday, not Sunday."
"Oh yeah. Then what's the celebration here?"
"Oh, nothin' right now." George stated.
"Aww." Bow Tie Tom stated as he munched into his hot dog.
"Well, I'm not going to take it. I'm going to get in there, even if it takes me a fortnight!"
"A what?" George asked.
"Two weeks." Bow Tie Tom stated.
"Huh?" George said again.
"George, thats seven plus seven days." Herbert stated, sighing.
"OH! Heh-heh, I forgot. Two weeks."
"Are you sure you should run for office?" TurtleShroom asked.
"Oh gosh yes!" George stated, flashing that stupid grin once more.
Chapter Six: Fake It 'Till You Make It
TurtleShroom exited the building when Bow Tie Tom ran up to him.
"Your majesty," the Turtlenator began, "Why not pretend to show selfishness or oppression in order to get in? I could be the hobo so you wouldn't feel bad."
"Do you think that would work?"
"It's worth a shot."
TurtleShroom walked back up to the mansion.
"Welcome to Ka- Turtle kid? Listen, I don't care what you do, you're just too nice to be a hard-core, laizzes faire capitalist. No wonder they call you stubborn. You're NOT getting in!"
"Is that statement correct?" TurtleShroom stated, faking a cunning tone. "Well... that makes me mad. It makes me feel like I need to make more money, at the cost of the proletariet."
The bouncer rolled his eyes several times.
"Well, what about that working-class penguin?"
The bouncer pointed to a low-paid Trans-Antarctican coal miner. He was as ripped as a penguin can get and boasted a sledgehammer in one muscular flipper of iron. His other flipper of steel was gripping a pickaxe. If the right one didn't hit whoever crossed him, the left one would.
"OH MERCY! NO! ...he is blameless! Not at all like... THAT PENGUIN THERE!"
TurtleShroom ran over to Bow Tie Tom, who was dressed in an assembly plant worker's uniform that was three times too big for him.
"Who? Me? A lonely, and poor, assembly line worker who, uhh, who does not make any more than, than a few coins?"
"Yes you. I don't like you because you're of a lower class." TurtleShroom stated, winking to Bow Tie Tom.
"Well I never."
"I th- AAH!" Tom shouted, faking a back pain. He fell over into the snow and began crawling like an inchworm in an extremely dramatic fashion, moaning loudly.
"OOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHH! MY BACK! I, I'M DYING! PLEASE SIR! GIVE ME MONEY SO THAT I CAN GO TO THE HOSPITAL AND RECEIVE CARE!"
TurtleShroom feigned apathy and crossed his flippers, turning away.
"No. You should take initiative and help yourself. It's not my fault that you didn't save enough of your measely two-coin or so salary to afford an extremely expensive surgery."
"NNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!" Tom shouted, again being a attention-starved drama king. He stood back up and gripped his chest, spinning around, flailing the other flipper around.
"World... going... black... life... flashing before eyes... oh, if only you would have helped pay my medical bills! You heartless... robber... baron!!"
TurtleShroom turned to the bouncer and smiled. The bouncer did not.
"Wow. That was REALLY stupid. Kid, if I knew that you were going to do all of that horrible show to get in, I'd have accepted. Capitalism is based on determination and oppurtunity. You didn't give up and you used your talents, and his lack thereof, to ascend the ladder of success until you made it to the top. I never thought I'd say this, but by all means, GO IN!"
He unhooked the velvet rope for TurtleShroom, who gave Bow Tie Tom a high ten (two?) before rushing in.
"GLORY BE! I CAN FINALLY MINGLE WITH FELLOW CAPTAINS OF INDUS-"
Chapter Seven: Weenie Hut Derrick
TurtleShroom woke up in an ambulance. The private doctor that the Weekee provides for him was at his side.
"........where am I? Doctor Regain? Is that you?"
"Oh, your Excellency, I thought you'd never wake up! You ran into the Kapibbles' mansion and slipped on a golden paperweight that was knocked off a desk. You slammed your skull, but fortunately, it didn't break, for some reason. You'll be checked and released by tomorrow morning."
"How are George and Tom doing?"
"Excellent, but that reminds me. George was inspired and wanted to drill for more oil. He decided to name it after you. Look sire, we're passing it now!"
A tall oil well was looming over the frozen landscape, not far from the highway that the ambulance was heading down. TS smiled at that thought, and could have sworn he saw George waving to him. There was... a sock on his flipper.
Then, TurtleShroom saw the name of the sign, and he shouted. The oil well was named...
"WEENIE HUT DERRICK?!"
- This is a parody of No Weenies Allowed, a classic SpongeBob SquarePants episode.