The Democratic Ones
[SCENE START]
"Get the fuck out of here, you broke-ass, miserable Mandorian piece of shit!" the wealthy DI'an resident sneered, aggressively adjusting the cuffs of his ridiculously expensive suit. "Get the fuck out of our country, you bottom-feeding peasants!"
The man in the poorly dressed uniform stood his ground, glaring right back with pure defiance. "I am not poor, and I am not going anywhere! I'm a legal resident of this shithole just like you, so take your elite corporate entitlement and shove it straight up your tight fucking ass!"
"Oh? You wanna play hardball?" the DI'an resident laughed, a dark, cartoonishly evil grin spreading across his face. "Let me show you what a real corporate beatdown looks like, you pathetic broke fuck!"
"And... CUT! Cut!" a director yelled from the background. "Beautiful! That was absolutely perfect. Exactly the scene I wanted!"
[SCENE END]
I instantly dropped my evil smirk, let out a heavy sigh of exhaustion, and looked right at the screen.
Yeah, aren't you? I am talking to you. Mr. Reader, or Mrs., or... whatever it is. Just—look, Reader. Listen up. Let me properly introduce myself. I am the actual Narrator of the story you are about to read. Yeah, I just took a minor acting role in this cheap propaganda ad because I needed to scrape together some extra revenue on the side. The economy is absolute shit right now.
Now, you are probably staring at your screen, looking at our tags, and thinking, 'Oh boy, they placed this story into the Fantasy category! Is it a standard fantasy story?'
Let me stop you right fucking there. No. There won't be any majestic dragons, no pointy-eared elves, no generic magic systems, and definitely no standard-issue Demon Lord waiting at the end to get punched in the face.
So why the hell did we choose the 'Fantasy' tag then? Well, let me explain the logic. The events in this story are entirely disconnected from real life, taking place in a completely different world with its own strange rules, massive scale, and alternate dimensions. We couldn't exactly throw this into 'Realistic Fiction' or 'Urban.' But honestly? The platform simply didn't have a better box for us to check. If I had the power to accurately name the actual genre of this novel, it would be a Pseudo-Corporate, Geopolitical Comedy.
I know. It sounds ridiculously long, incredibly stupid, and a bit ridiculous. But it is whatever the fuck it is. We didn't have any other options.
So, look. This story might not be exactly what you were expecting when you clicked that tag. You have a choice right now: you can either jump into Chapter 1, or you can get the hell out based entirely on what I am telling you right now.
And yeah, yeah, I know it has literally been six months since we launched and we are just now updating our old, horribly vague synopsis. I have been busting my ass writing the main chapters, okay?
I know this story is vastly different from the usual fantasy novels you see in this category. Some people might not click with it, and that is completely fine. But it's up to you. You can give it a try, or don't—
AHEM.
A loud, highly pointed, aggressively fake cough echoed from off-stage.
I rolled my eyes, glaring at the Author.
Alright, alright, I get it! The synopsis ends here. I am going to write the new chapter now before this guy fires me. Byeeeeee.