“Well, young brother, it’s quite simple,” said Civilai. “The government is celebrating five years because, despite all its mismanagement and false hopes and poor judgment, it’s still here. They never expected to make it this far.”

“Who’s going to kick them out?” said Daeng.

“Exactly,” said Civilai. “That’s the glory of totalitarianism. You can screw up for five years and admit you have no idea what you’re doing and you wake up the next morning and you’re still in power. You can experiment all over again.”

“If you weren’t suffering from dementia I’d arrest you for treasonous rhetoric,” said Phosy.

“Look around, young chief inspector,” said the old politburo man. “Point me out one minister or vice minister here who isn’t demented. All those grenades exploding too close to their brains.”

“Uncle Civilai, you seem particularly nasty tonight,” said Nurse Dtui. “Is it the snails?”

They charged their glasses and toasted to the snails.

“In a way, yes,” said Civilai. “I’ll tell you, sweet Dtui. Today, with no warning, no request, no discussion, I received a copy of the speech they expect me to give to all these pliable journalists at the end of the week.”

“You could always say ‘no,’” said Siri.

“And then what? They’d give the same script to some other doddery old fool to read the lies.”

“So what are you planning to do?” Daeng asked.

“Harness the power of redaction,” said Civilai.

“You’d get two minutes into the speech and they’d drag you from the podium,” said Phosy.

“But what a glorious two minutes they would be,” said Civilai.

“Except the simultaneous interpreters will be reading the original script,” said Daeng. “The old king tried to change his abdication speech, and the radio station brought in an actor to read the Party version.”

“An actor we could sorely use right now,” said Siri, anxious to change the subject.

“I still have the floor,” said Civilai.

“Oh, right,” said Nurse Dtui, ignoring him, “your movie. I was going to ask about that. Don’t you have a cast yet?”

“I feel nobody takes me seriously anymore,” Civilai grumbled.

“The Women’s Union has brought together a vast gaggle of would-be performers,” said Siri.

“All we’re missing is a functioning camera,” said Daeng.

“The camera is functioning,” said Siri, “and we are on the verge of acquiring a world-class cinematographer to operate it.”

“Here I am about to re-educate the planet,” said Civilai, “and you dismiss my plan out of hand.”

“Perhaps we aren’t yet drunk enough to take you seriously,” said Daeng. “Another bottle might persuade us.”

Civilai huffed and the hairs in his nostrils flapped. He walked off to the bar with a heavy smattering of umbrage and a noticeable stagger.

“He’s not really going to sabotage the speech, is he?” Nurse Dtui asked.

“He’s a politician,” said Siri.