RIGHT WHERE WE LEFT OFF

 THE HANOVER WORLD REPORT

"All the news that nobody reads but you"

THE HANOVER WORLD REPORT RETURNS

The Hanover World Report was the Kingdom of Hanover’s first media outlet, and it’s back after many, many, many years. Dedicated to current events in the Kingdom of Hanover and in other miniature polities, The Hanover World Report delighted/annoyed the 11 people who sometimes read it, with its signature tongue-in-cheek wit, stellar reporting (by which we mean dumb yuk-yuks and dirty lies), and its distinct smell of onions.

After so long an absence from the Hanoverian media scene, the Report is pleased to restore, at last, this unsatisfying yellow journalism experience to our readers, who by now are mostly either dead or in prison.

Thanks for waiting these past 17 years or so for the next issue of the Report to come your way. Oh, stop your griping. No, we aren’t going to refund your subscription; get bent. Better late than never.

MEET THE NEW BOSS, SAME AS THE OLD BOSS

Bergen, Hanover  The joyous, celebratory, and carefree atmosphere of the opening day of Oktoberfest here in the City of Bergen, Hanover’s bustling capital, was ruined as usual when our morning beer drinking was rudely interrupted by a proclamation read aloud in Ellicott Square by a team of glum palace officials in morning suits. 

It was announced from St. George’s that we haven’t actually had a king for the past five years, as it happens, and that the glorious Hanoverian Monarchy (hic genuflecitur) would remedy this minor oversight by recycling one of our used rulers to fill the vacancy. James the Again, as he is known, will, beginning today, replace himself as the kingdom’s point person for waving from balconies.

To find out what the average Hanoverian on the streets thinks about this latest development, our roving reporters hit the bricks in the Square to further annoy Oktoberfest revelers with pestering interviews. Here’s what you told us:

Dave Mason, 51, Oktoberfest bouncer

“I don’t know who you’re talking about, but he’s going to have to wait in line and get ID’d like everybody else.”

Lady Fiona Twist, 62, foreign diplomat

“It wouldn’t be so strange if your government hadn’t mandated that we replace his portrait in the embassy lobby with a new print of the very same portrait.”

Mary Scholastica Georger, CSJ, 38, nun

“It’s as if every weird dream that I've never had suddenly came true today.” 

Jeff Heck, 46, hedge fund manager

“Why does he look so uptight on all the money? It’s like Gandhi once said, ‘A smile won’t cost you nothin', honey’.”

Todd Backus, 25, bartender

“Drinking is the only king I’ve seen around here today, man. What’s your poison?”

Hanover’s pre-owned monarch is expected to reopen Parliament next month for the first time since the dinosaurs went extinct. How we’ve survived this long without a government is a question few citizens are asking themselves right now. Most of them are feeling no pain and it isn’t even noon yet.

WESTARCTICAN GRAND DUKE’S CLAIMS CHALLENGED BY QUEEN OF NORTHARCTICA

South Pole, Antarctica  Frigidia, Ice Queen Deluxe of Northarctica, emerged from her ice cave palace at the South Pole earlier this week to issue a thundering condemnation of the claims by the Grand Duke of Westarctica upon what she insisted was actually her territory. “It’s ALL my territory,” insisted the ancient, blue-skinned, white-haired, spectre-like Northarctican monarchsicle.

Seated upon her ice throne positioned directly atop the South Pole, where she vociferously claims to have “called dibs” on all of northern Antarctica back in the year eleventy-twelve, Queen Frigidia pointed in every direction, shouting, as she pointed, “North! North! North! North! It’s all north! There is no west! There is no east! It’s all north, and it’s all mine! I've called dibs!”

“Settle down and return to your cave at once, Frigidia!” exclaimed an unidentified Caucasian male wearing a red fur suit who, at that moment, arrived on the scene in a magical sleigh pulled by eight flying reindeer. “Travis has been a good boy, this year, and I am giving Westarctica to him for Christmas,” declared the Arctic visitor.

Quite beside herself at the unexpected appearance of her North Pole nemesis, Frigidia confronted the jolly old elf to upbraid him for what she described as his apparent ignorance concerning the way a sphere works. “There is no WEST, you idiot!” the Ice Queen insisted. “I dare you to point your chubby gloved finger to the west! Go ahead; this should be a hoot!”  In response, the former Orthodox prelate of Myra put his finger to his nose and laughed, his abdomen shaking like a bowl full of jelly. “You, Frigidia,” Nicholas scolded “are incapable of looking at the world from any perspective apart from your own because you don’t get out much, but at least try looking at a map for once in your badly-spent life.”

Diplomatic relations between Kringle and Her Frigidity have been frosty ever since the former brought a Holly Hobby easy-bake oven for her sister, Icewina, on Christmas morning, 1981, but failed to bring one for Frigidia, as well.

”What can I say,” Mr. Claus replied, “She was a bad little girl that year. You make the wrong list, you get a lump of coal. That’s the deal. That’s always been the deal.”

When asked about Frigidia’s challenge to the Westarctican claim, the pontifical elf opined that the Ice Queen’s protest was “A day late and a dollar short,” stating, “That sleigh has flown, baby.” Claus further explained that Frigidia’s own claims had long ago been cancelled-out by those of Icewina, who lives in northern Antarctica, and is claimant to the territory of “Southarctica”.

“It’s all South from where I stand,” Icewina declared while purring like an overfed bodega cat.

THE KINGDOM OF HANOVER  .   2021