Back when the Great Leader was just an unnamed immigrant working in the United States for a large corporation small service, things were hard, there were so hard on him that after five years he had to quit and find a better job.
During the dark days of the End of the Second Millennium, when the World was preparing for a catastrophic joke set by some mid century computer technician, the One To Be the Great Leader was scanning the classifieds everyday, until his old friend from Western Massachusetts, General Henery sent him a very important message which propelled our unemployed hero in the heart of Corporate World, Midtown Manhattan, on the 41st floor of the white slim tower, the General Motor Building, to start his adventure in the America’s Cosmetic Industry.
Little did he know, back then, for how long he would have being pushed that elevator button. There are days, more recent ones, when our Great Leader still amazes himself.
Three days after he set foot on that floor, finishing his training, a journey was planned to reach the banks of the Mississippi River in the Louisiana’ town of New Orleans, to celebrate the Great Delivery Number 30.
Optimism found its way through the loose colored beads rolling into the old streets of the French Quarter, and the warm season breezed over the large river.
A year later that river that was filled with tears, and it reflected the image of the end of an era. The Great Delivery Number 31, celebrated again in the mouth of the Mississippi River, was intoxicated with a ghost chasing experience. The optimism was over.
The Third Millennium came untouched, but nine months and 11 days later it fell apart.
The rest is recent history, the return of the Great Leader and the Freedomization of Leaderonia have certainly been the major events of our Land, however there was some business to do for the Cosmetic Industry and The Great Leader embraced the fight against Acne, and started the Skin Treatment Campaign. In a brisk morning of this February 2005 on the seat 1A of the Flight to New Orleans the Great Leader was looking ahead to face that river again.
Twenty minutes before landing at sunset from the window He saw the coastal line, where a golden snaky mirror was fighting the gulf which was shooting heavy tankers right up the river like full metal jacket bullets pointing northbound, right at the heart of Corn Land.
The bloody foam trailed the tankers, hundreds of them, lined up neatly in a military fashion. The scene was gruesome.
Was just a product of the purest irony the selection of the site where the Dermatology business would had take place. Right under the massive pillars of the giant bridge that crossed the wounded river, the Great Leader took care of business and after handing over the happy dermatologists the best and most sleek environment they had in years, he walked out the convention center. The sun was strong and He walked on the riverbanks for a while, looking at the water, continuously traced by the heaviest vessels He has ever seen.
He looked at the water for a while, enjoying the mist from a nearby fountain. And then he said those words, those pearl of intellect that we cherish so much. He looked at the water and talking directly to the Mississippi River, He said:
“You look like diarrhea”.