Meet Me At Walla Walla: A Diary of a Tale of a Mutiny Upon the Trail of Oregon, Part 1

May 1st, 1766

Independence, Missouri. Beautiful town, situated right between Harsh Dictatorship, MO and Dependence, MO (I wonder if one ever were to ever say something in the realm of "I will meet you in Dependence," would it lead to utter confusion? Ha! Thoughts such as these tickle my funny bone and will no doubt get me through the harsh fordings and river rafting adventures that lie ahead!). This is where myself and my party of fellow manifest destiny-believing compatriots will begin our epic journey across the treacherous Oregon territory. There are several other parties making the trip as well, including a wealthy banker and a proud doctor. I have been recruited by a schoolteacher with little in the way of funds, but rich in spirit and point multipliers. We have purchased three oxen, 300 lbs. of food, some axles, some spare wheels, quite a few boxes of bullets, and yet only a single pair of clothes. Franklin, our leader, claims that this will save money and "doesn't really affect anything anyhow."

May 2nd, 1766

We have begun our trek across this harsh terrain! Moving at a steady pace has kept our health from taking a turn for the worse. Things are looking up already. We are eating hearty rations and just the other day Franklin shot over 1200 lbs. of food! However, we could only lug back 200 lbs. The strange thing? It was all squirrel meat.

May 3rd, 1766

We found some wild berries! What luck!

May 5th, 1766

Our wagon reached the Kansas River Crossing. The water stood at 6 ft. deep and -8 degrees Farenheit. While Cholerita and Syphiliston insisted on caulking the wagon, Franklin giggled too much even at the thought of the word "caulking," so he decided to ford the river. We lost our three oxen, 475 lbs. of food, our single pair of clothing, all but one of our boxes of bullets, and Marvin. We are now left completely naked, Cholerita is pulling the wagon, our wild berries are our only source of sustenance, and Franklin has moved us from a steady pace to a grueling pace (which has taken quite a toll on Cholerita). Bizarrely, Franklin refuses to move us from Hearty Rations to Meager Rations, meaning he's somehow providing us with steak and mashed potato meals three times a day with our 5 lbs. of berries. The food situation is dire, as is the nakedness situation, and the fact that Franklin has taken the bullets for himself and is taking potshots primarily at Cholerita and screaming "DANCE!" Hopefully, conditions will improve.

May 6th, 1766

Conditions have gotten drastically worse. Franklin has decided to rest to ease our spirits, but unfortunately decided to do so for 99 days, which will delay our trip until early Fall, meaning a large portion of the trip will not take place until we are deep into winter. Syphiliston and I have tried to wake Franklin, but he is deep into his hibernation. Also, he shot Cholerita in the leg right before the rest began, so our Grueling Pace will be diminished to Stopped Pace when the rest ends.

August 15th, 1766

Our rest has ended! We were able to stave off starvation by trading all of our wheels to a kindly old Native American for foodstuffs and bullets. Onward to Oregon!

August 16th, 1766

Franklin has decided to rest for another 99 days. He also shot Cholerita in her other leg. My faith in our noble leader is starting to vacillate.

Enter D.Y.S.T.O.P.I.A.

The year was 2089.

Murkenstorken quietly sat in his TransPod as it transported him across the vast, gray wasteland to work in the Uranium Mine Observation Deck, when he took out his bottle of government-prescribed Mood-Lite pills. He removed two and held them in his hands for but a moment, taking that moment to observe them. Murkenstorken had never really looked at the Mood-Lite pills before. They were so round and robin's egg blue. At least, he had to assume so. Robin and all birds had been extinct ever since the Great Nuclear Wars of the 2020s. Without thinking, he swallowed the two pills when he arrived at his destination.

He got off the smooth, white, futuristic TransPod and walked through a number of automatically-sliding doors to the Observation Deck. His co-workers, Brown and Brown, were sitting at their stations.

"Murkenstorken, you are one minute late for duty," observed Brown.

"Yeah, sorry, guys. I was watching GovernmentVision and got distracted."

"The Government is our friend and ally in the fight against thought and creativity and individualism and hope and change and not-taking-pills," observed Brown.

"Yeah," retorted Murkenstorken. "I know the network's slogan. I was watching Mood-Manipulation Program."

"That program teaches us to be stoic and robotic in our thoughts and motivations and attitudes and not to have any radical thoughts or feelings towards social change or non-conformity."

"Uh-huh," said Murkenstorken. "I literally just said I was watching that. I don't need you to recap it for me."

Murkenstorken took his seat at his station, Station 4A, and began observing the Uranium Mine data and video-feeds.

"Did you see Generalized Propoganda Program last night?" asked Brown.

"Of course I did. We're required by law to watch it and then take our Mood-Lite pills during all of the Mood-Lite commercials."

"Yes. I found the program to be equally acceptable as every other program that The Government provides on the GovernmentVision."

"It's kinda stupid that they advertise Mood-Lite pills when we're forced to take them and we as a society have become so dependent on them that we can't function without them though."

Neither Brown nor Brown said a word.

"DID YOU JUST QUESTION A FACET OF OUR DYSTOPIC SOCIETY?!" inquired Brown.

"I BELIEVE HE JUST QUESTIONED A FACET OF OUR DYSTOPIC SOCIETY!" responded Brown.

"Seriously? I'm not really trying to knock it or anything. I mean, I spend 90% of my Government-regulated paycheck a week on Mood-Lite pills. And I have really no reason to stop that."

"I apologize, Murkenstorken, but I must alert Faceless Dysoptic Security of your breach of conformity," sighed Brown as he hit the Faceless Dysoptic Security Alert button.

Alarms and lights began flashing, as four men in black uniforms with black helmets on rushed into the room and shot their mysterious darts into Murkenstorken, who immediately went unconscious.

Murkenstorken awoke a few hours later, feeling drowsy and confused. He was in a plain, gray room. But then again, in the dystopic society he lived in, every room was plain and gray, so this wasn't very disconcerting.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Murkenstorken," came a voice from the speaker in the ceiling.

"Who is this?"

"My name is Agent Brown."

"Hello, Agent Brown."

"So...you are questioning a facet of our dystopic society wherein the government has taken total control of every aspect of life and has turned humanity into a race of virtual robots through drugs, propoganda, and over-conforming?"

"Uh, I just kinda thought it was weird that they'd bother advertising a pill that everyone already is forced to buy and take by law and are already all overly dependent on. I mean, I am too. I'm out actually. Do you guys have a Government Pill Distribution Center around here?"

"Murkenstorken...that name is oddly familiar."

"Is that what this is about? I tried to have my name legally changed to 'Brown,' but it costs over 1,000 units to file the paperwork and I wouldn't be able to afford Mood-Lite Pills for two weeks then, and that would be breaking the law, so I couldn't-"

"YOUR FATHER WAS A NON-CONFORMIST AS WELL!"

"We don't have fathers in our dystopic future. Not real fathers at least. We're conceived in tubes and we're grown in them as well. Then we have names assigned to us at birth. And wouldn't you know that I was the only one who didn't get the name Brown? Heh, this name's been nothin' but trouble for me."

"Oh...right. Well, The Government cannot afford non-conformity-lovers like yourself to spread your message and create chaos and anarchy. You have been sentenced to death, by pill. Would you like a last meal pill before your death pill?"

"I actually need a bathroom pill right now. I've needed one for like five hours, but I was already late for work, so I didn't have any time to get any from the Pill Distribution Center."

"Did you forget to take your wake-up pill after you took your sleep pill?"

"Ya know, I think we may be a bit too dependent on pills nowadays."

The voice said nothing else. It was clear that Murkenstorken was not going to escape Dystopia, and that The Government had grown too powerful via bureaucracy and conformity and drugs and stuff and future dystopia and stuff.

TeleValentines