Fransiis was eighteen. Having just gotten out of school, he pondered, alone, in his room, what he would do with his life. He hardly had the money or reputation it took to be anything worthwhile. He’d probably be an apprentice to a tailor, like his father, for a very long period of time. The name Saab, many years ago, was meant for an agile, skilled, silent warrior. Fransiis had never even touched a weapon, let alone used it. This is why what happened next was so ironic.
“Fransiis, go get the mail!” his mother shouted up the stairs, somehow lovingly.
“Alright, mother!” he called back, starting down the steep, cramped flight of steps in their small home.
Fransiis, after kissing his mother, walked out onto the street. It was cold, damp, and wet. There was garbage littered everywhere, and Fransiis passed many homeless families. One in particular caught his eye, they had a sign that read like so: “HELP THE ONIDOR FAMILY BUY SOME BREAD!”
Fransiis nodded toward them, gave them a coin (which was all he had), and continued on his way. Just as he was about to leave, he noticed a baby, one or two years old by the look of him, tinkering with litter. Then Fransiis noticed he was standing outside an open market. Silently stealing one of the larger loaves of bread, he handed it to the boy.
“Thank you, thank you for helping my young Jaak!” the woman, obviously this Jaak’s mother, began to cry.
Fransiis watched the boy hand his mother some bread. “No problem, miss.”
He continued down the street, passing several Maggots on the way to dank, squished post office. The Empire had forced ther to be a post office instead of aq postal service as it was cheaper. This caused many Brichstopians to open privately owned, and very expensive services. Fransiis walked into the little building, grabbed a ladder and climbed it to reach his family’s high post box. It was the smallest size, and it usually had some sort of vermin living inside it. Today was cockroaches. Fransiis hated cockroaches. After snatching his mail, he hurried down the ladder. There were two items: one note saying that there was a box at the front desk, and a letter from “The Greate Brichstopian Empire”. Fransiis figured it was another one of their propaganda send-outs.
After walking hurriedly to the front desk, Fransiis gave the half-asleep woman behind the counter the card and told her his box number. The woman got up, went through a vey old looking door, and came out several minutes later wielding a large paper package that was soft. Again, it was from the Empire. Fransiis wondered what was happening there.
After hurrying to the end of the block, Fransiis had to wait as carriages and cars alike passed on down the cobbled road. The traffic finally cleared, but not before it began raining. Fransiis sprinted all the way home through the rain, holding his paper bundle over his head.
After entering his apartment, Fransiis, with fumbling fingers, opend the letter he now noticed was addressed to him. It read:
Hello, FRANSIIS SAAB!
It has come to the Greate Brichstopian Empire’s attention that you have newly completed your studies at MONOPOLIS SCHOOL FOR STRUGGLING BOYS. Fantastic work! The Greate Brichstopian Empire informs you that you have been most formally invited to join the MARINE CORPS of the Greate Brichstopian Empire! In TWENTY days, you will attend MONOPOLIS TRAINING CAMP for six weeks, and then you will be sent to join a squad of Imperial Soldiers, keeping Brichstopia safe! In the package, you will find your uniform and gear for your service in the MARINE CORPS. Remember, training starts in TWENTY days, so be ready for the truck that will pick you up then! Godspeed, FRANSIIS SAAB!
The Greate Brichstopian Empire