Authors: Daniel Unedo
Grand Bishop II
There are disgruntled whispers I see spreading on the Internet like a plague, poor misguided dogs grumbling incessantly about the sphere of influence our Orninican corporations possess, and the well-deserved stash of riches enjoyed by their hardworking shareholders and managers. This is an easy mistake to make, my pups.
We must remember the fact that under his divine cowl, Bahman, the holiest of holy men, the upholder of all justice, was a man of immense wealth and influence. His great corporate empire led the world in wondrous technological advances and business acumen that logically and reasonably enabled Bahman to accumulate great profits for himself and his shareholders and managers.
Bahman was indeed born a very rich and pure-bred man, and it was most assuredly due to his superior breeding that he was so adept in his true calling as a proud crusader for righteousness. He lived in a grand towering mansion on a hill overlooking the city, with only his loyal man-servant for fellowship. He drove an assortment of innovative motor vehicles that would make even the most luxurious Braniso pale in comparison.
His still impressive arsenal of justice, his majestically woven costumes and the trophies of his many heroic conquests lined every wall of the great cave of justice. Yes, Bahman surrounded himself with riches like any blessed hard-working Orninican today.
So you see, my pups, wealth and power are nothing to pooh-pooh, they are advantages rightfully granted to great leaders and visionaries. It is only natural that those born with superior genetics and gifted with an immaculate upbringing would be better than the average dog, that they would know how to best spread justice and freedom among the masses.
Bahman didn't see the need to wait for the slow-to-act government or the inept police force to right the wrongs he saw in his great city; he took matters into his own hands, as only a superior aristocratic pedigree of a man could do. He was above the law.
So is it really so unreasonable to expect that our great dogs of industry and finance today, born in mansions that can equal Bahman's, not need to kowtow to mere public servants? I think not. Our great business dogs, born to lives of privilege, surely know what is right for our society better than any sneaky troublemakers slithering their way through the tubes of the Internet like venomous serpents.
These same dissidents complain about the expansive surveillance our country depends on for its very survival. They must be reminded of the magnificent computer that sits in Bahman's cave. With this device, our savior kept a close eye on the populace, watching for criminal activity, for terrorist plotting, for anything out of place or suspicious seeming. He embraced surveillance as fully as our own culture has, and to deny this would be simply sacrilegious.
If Bahman were a proponent of the ever watchful eye, then what right do these misguided young disbelievers have to question the wisdom of continuing in our Master's footsteps? It is simply obscene, that these disaffected voices would dare to make themselves heard in a public forum. The government's censorship of the Internet must go further if we are to succeed in stamping out such blatant hate-speech that attacks the values of all the dogs in this society. These anonymous cowards should be tracked down and incarcerated at once for their dangerous and reckless talk.
It is clear and undeniable that Bahman wants for us to throw open our arms and fully embrace materialism. It is only through the amassing of many disparate goods all through our lives that we can reach a state of mind that will allow us to commit the ultimate selfless act.
The more physical possessions we have lining the walls of our homes, the greater the sacrifice will be when we leave everything we own behind to join the masters in the great cave in the sky. It is only logical that the more money and valuables we agree to leave to the church when we die, the greater meaning our death will have.
So fear not believers, shop to your heart's content. Buy everything you can fit onto your credit cards, feeling safe in the knowledge that our wonderful materialism is an integral part of our journey to nirvana. Orninica's unmatched wealth is a wonderful gift from man that should never be recklessly squandered by leaving our credit cards at home. Think of your credit cards as your personal key cards to the great cave in the sky. Never again doubt Bahman's supreme capitalism.
In a way, the great corporation Bahman ran more than two-thousand years ago is still standing today, in the form of the The Holy Temple of Bahman. So when you donate to the church, you're symbolically buying shares in the oldest corporation of them all. Shares that you can cash in the afterlife.
When you pass away and meet Bahman, he will know exactly how much you donated to his temples throughout your life. It would be highly embarrassing for you if he looked upon you and saw you had only donated a pittance. Don't forget, Bahman was very charitable in his lifetime, donating untold millions to the less fortunate. A general guideline to adhere to, a minimum of 15% of your gross salary should be donated to the church every month. That is just enough for us to perform our basic duties spreading the good word and preparing our faithful for eventual entry into the great cave. Of course, if dogs would donate more than that, we would be able to perform even more good.
There are some dogs that have been lead astray by the hucksters calling themselves vicars of Soupman. It seems that these lost souls have been convinced by the vicars that, by donating to both The Holy Temple of Bahman and the Modern Church of Soupman, they can 'cover all their bases'. This is a terrible fallacy. Donating to that flying alien's cockamamie cult is exactly the same as worshiping Soupman; as accepting him as your messiah.
This is not up for debate, you simply cannot worship two messiahs. By donating to both churches, you deny yourself the possibility of ever entering the great cave in the sky. Bahman will tolerate no division of loyalties. Give your full donation to The Holy Temple of Bahman from now on, and perhaps you will be forgiven for your misstep when you are judged by the butler at the entrance to the cave. Perhaps there is still a slight chance he will let you pass if you repent immediately and never stray again.
Any clergy-dog that tries to tell you that his religion is somehow easier, simpler, more fun and less work is obviously not to be trusted. There is nothing easy, simple or fun about worship. It's meant to be arduous. You can't just show up whenever you feel like getting out of bed, light a candle, say a prayer and call it a day.
You have to be there at the break of dawn every Sunday and on every holy holiday, and listen to the entire sermon. You have to confess your sins and you have to put in the work to better yourself in the eyes of the Master. The Soups think that by singing joyful songs and dancing around the church like elated mental deficients, spouting gibberish, they are somehow 'modern' or 'progressive' or 'fun'. If you want fun and games, go sit in a circus tent, not in a church.
Religion is about abstaining from the things that make you gleeful, about denying yourself the carnal pleasures, about fasting and purifying, about confessing and repenting, about sacramental manduction, about doing everything you possibly can to avoid eternal damnation in the clown prince's unspeakable hellfire. This is not a game, and perhaps anyone that allows himself to believe a buffoon vicar's easy lies deserves the dreadful fate that awaits him in the afterlife. Perhaps the Soups secretly worship the clown prince. It would explain their jovial behavior, their constant celebration and all their barely-disguised evil tendencies.
Perhaps all Soups are here on earth to test our faith, to take every possible opportunity to corrupt Bahmanite souls and condemn them forever. I wouldn't be at all surprised if it turned out that the Soups drank blood and sacrificed newborns to their true master, who sits and watches us from his throne in his fiery lair hidden in the earth's core and cackles incessantly every time one of our faithful is corrupted by his deviant servants.
Ask yourselves, my pups. Is it really worth the risk to play with fire? If something is too good to be true, isn't it usually the case that you are being swindled? What sense does it make really, that Soupman could be so compassionate and accepting? So undemanding? How does he never show anger? Isn't it odd that he would allow such loud, expressive, uncontrolled joyousness in his place of worship? It's just not logical that an all-powerful alien entity would act in this disorderly manner.
Police Officer
Man, rookie, you wouldn't believe the emails some of these wackos send each other, it's total madness. You would have heard of a lot of these dogs I've been watching too, real big shots. Real kinky too, almost without exception.
There's this one guy, married for twenty years, really well respected in his line of work, always emailing these way-out photos to this little college hottie he met at a sci-fi convention. Guy takes all his clothes off, climbs into these over sized hamster cages he keeps in his basement, ties a ribbon around his junk, and sets the camera to snap away. There's no space in there, so he's all curled up with his head against his knees, drooling all over himself, red in the face, looking like he's about to suffocate.
And that's not even the interesting part. A few days later, she sends him photos she took of him in a cage, only now she's poking him with needles through the cage, and the guy's covered in blood, and loving every minute of it. She's wearing all her clothes, and has this completely normal ho-hum expression on her face, like she's washing the dishes or something. Pushes a crap-load of needles right into this fat little pervert like it's nothing.
He responds to that email telling her he jacked off to the photos, and it was the best night of his life and when can they do it again. And oh yeah, not to worry about the wife, he can just drug her again like last time. Girl responds saying she'll only come back if she can have some alone time with the out-cold wife. Guy says no problem, come on over, she'll be drugged and waiting.
Man, I can't wait to see the photos they take of that session, that's gonna be some freaked out shit. One to take home with me. I hope the girl keeps her iYglass on her head this time, though. Last time she took it off and the angle was too low to see anything, but I got some really awesome audio.
It's pretty cool man, I can choose who I want to follow, I have a quota of three-hundred saps a month to meet. Gotta read all their emails, chats, look at all their photos and videos, watch them in their sitting rooms and offices, plod through their weird ass unconscious thoughts. And I get to choose whoever I want. Well, most of the good celebrities are already taken by other cops, especially the ladies. But I've got a few D-listers. Some of them have surprisingly decent jugs.
They make us spend equal time monitoring males and females, otherwise all the guys on the force would just watch the ladies 24/7. But actually, you get bored of watching girls all day anyway, after a while I mean. Guys are a lot weirder, way more interesting subjects.
Thanks to iYglass, now we can patch into a live video feed pretty much 24/7, so it's gotten much easier to see some skin. In the morning when they're getting dressed in front of their mirrors, I've got like a hundred feeds going at once. It's fucking crazy, man. Like a burst of naked hotness all at once. I just wish my eyes could take it all in at once, there's so much I miss. Have to keep rewinding.
A lot of times, when you find someone really hot to tag, the other cops all cram into your office to get a look at her, and they'll offer to trade you like three of their ones for your find. I only agree to trade if there's a cash incentive added, too. One of the guys was so into this one girl I found that he gave me ten of his girls, plus two thousand oonos. I think he must have known her from high school or something, he would have done anything to get her.
It's been much easier being a cop since they filled the streets with drones. Now that we don't have to ride around looking for jaywalkers all day, we can get some real police work done. It's really revolutionized policing and made the job a hell of a lot more fun for everyone.
Sure, we barely ever leave our desks now, but why would we? We've got the whole fucking world at our fingertips here. You see a hot little mess waiting tables at a truck stop? Get her name, log in to the database, add her to your file, and away you go. In a few days, you'll know her better than anyone in her life. Your neighbor's daughter just hit puberty? Leave no stone unturned, man, gotta keep the public safe from themselves.
Damn, I love being a cop.
You'll get to be a data analyst too soon enough, you've just gotta keep at it. Keep on running through the perps the drones bring in, and eventually they'll promote you out of processing and to one of the data mining departments, and maybe you can sit in the office right next to mine. I'll even give you some of my girls to get you started. The ones I'm done with, I mean. Not the ones that are actually worth something. Just hang in there, man, it'll get better.
In the mean time, if you've got an ex-girlfriend you want me to keep an eye on, let me know. I've helped a lot of guys out with that. I can know every move she makes, practically before she makes it, as long as I watch her long enough. She'd have to be really hot though, to be worth my time. And there would be a small fee, of course. I bill by the hour.
There was this little whore I used to spend some quality time with every so often, but she went and got hitched and cut me off. She was the first one I added to my file, been watching her everyday, ever since. Her husband sure likes pounding her ass, practically never goes near her other holes, just wants non stop ass every time.
I've got a bunch of footage from his iYglass of him sitting at gay bars trying to get up the nerve to finally give in to his unnatural urges. I'm just waiting for him to go through with it so I can send her the evidence. Anonymously, of course. Then she should let me bang her again. I'll stay well away from her ass, though, after seeing the way he uses it up.