DIARY FROM THE IMPERIAL DAIRY
To celebrate the 200th Dynastic Cycle of the Imperial Draconis Eternal War on Error the Imperium declares a Supercluster Day of family celebration.
Those families officially registered as in internal dispute on that day will be terminated in the interests of a pure Imperial continuum.
The eternal error is to not acknowledge we the Draco as the Masters of Everything, but as we believe in freedom of speech and allowing everybody to do everything they can do or want to do – it is a simple statement of our law that we can do everything and anything we want.
And we do.
Our family is celebrating and great Uncle Fester looking somewhat like two big sticks of red liquorice with a lamp standard and big flappy red beach towel will be bringing his Great Aunt from the Serpens constellation in one of the twilight galaxies.
Speaking of Great Ants – the Zeta Imperium will be sending some of their hive personae – if that is the right term … as they don't seem to be the life and soul of any party .. not really having much left of one themselves. The only irony that computes for them is haemoglobin.
The Great and Eternal War on Error requires fresh Anunnaki blood and our surrogate and nursery projects on these farm worlds have managed to keep up with the Draco losses on the hundreds of separate regional galactic and interdimensional zones we are helping to correct.
The errors in these places are unspeakable and just need to be put right.
A good steady supply of slaves and livestock for our projects has the full Imperial attention as without fresh hosts and creative nannies for the nursery worlds our supply of educated and intelligent and socially functional Reptilian apprentices and executives would dry up.
Our ever increasing consumption creates an ever increasing need to feed huge numbers and thus we must keep expanding or die as a species or we will run out of resources.
When we went into the dark zone we took several dimensional nexus that gave us access to several dimensional pockets and zones and we acquired 10% of our monthly performance target in livestock alone on that first day.
We separated the captives out for their correctional duties – most as menial factorial and mining labor, but quite a few of the most creative and talented captives we handed over to the Zeta for screening for role playing positions in earth-type nursery farming and hosting.
The earth-type worlds are most amusing.
The captives believe they have freedom and self-determination and that they evolved from the primitive animus on those worlds, they also believe that their worlds and society and its technology is slowly evolving .. but they are mostly in a constant state of amnesia and stupidity and are often linked into several educational roles with the young Reptilian larvae.
The nymphs or phoenix burst out - hatch out eventually from the ashes of the self-destruction of their host.
Often the Draco/HU families will go there amongst the slow moving, slow thinking and slow acting men or HUmen beings and totally outperform them in every and any way – breaking their hearts in the process.
Indeed some of the lesser families never tire of sending their ne'er do well juniors or unfortunates there to play.
It is no accolade however to be able to say that they are kings amongst retards.
The slow HUmen do not know or suspect that role playing Draco shapeshifters and Greys with hologram projectors have these massive amounts of capacity and live amongst them.
Sometimes it amuses us to humiliate the competing Reptilian families by sending their relatives to these places, forcing them to surrender to the artificial attrition and the Imperial will.
For the most part, one would never visit these places to eat and drink the essence in those common essence-feeding zones driven by our chaos technicians.
When ones finest vehicle gets clogged up and grid-locked amongst the rusting HUmen junk and ones nose is amongst the oil and stench – supping the essence of some frenzied driver is no consolation.
Its one thing to stand around at a crowded football match in the semblance of human rags drinking in the essence of those allegedly exciting moments and quite another leaping about between slow moving bullets and other gas propelled projectiles in the middle of some alleged war zone whilst feasting on the last moments of the inmates.
Its so ….… primitive.
One prefers pre-processed essence – and making the best use of our essence management teams - its just a tad more civilised.
One also prefers to dine Not wearing the semblance of HUmen rags in either their textiles of their DNA. One can see where the term redneck first originated from. Red Draco amongst the HUmen stench.
I was somewhat irritated by a disobedient and slow witted vassal last season and one was not amused so one had him incarcerated and tasked so as to put him on an essence diet as it were … and it was amazing how shrivelled he ended up without the benefits of his daily essence.
His family paid a ransom for him and no doubt he is still chasing the raptors along the seashore trying to feed himself.
One has ones own collection of rebels stored in the soul jars of the Imperial museum.
They were the cream of the rebellious prisoners, elite warriors and leaders from the resisting republics.
Our war on error was able to correct their attitudes and their essence is imprisoned in ones Imperial collection.
One likes to let the geni escape from the bottle from time to time, on planets such as Earth and then if one is displeased by their efforts one can always recall them home.
in the Earth year of 1963 AD the President of the tribal state known to the inmates as the United States of America, which is a farming stockyard supervised by the 2nd Annunaki livestock franchise holders on that world. President Kennedy was one of the Imperiums prized prisoners from the era of our cluster wars in this sector and had been starting to show his rebellious, defiant and humanitarian nature to the governors of his stockyard – making speeches about dark elites.
One arranged for a public display of Imperial power by formally taking his soul back in front of those who had eyes to see, during the transit of a public promenade in an earth vehicle and then one pandered to the humans by having him shot with lead projectiles called bullets variously from several positions and directions one minute later.
One's collection of Soul Jars or Urns is a highly sought after exhibit and one suspects that that being would require to be quelled even further to curb his rebellious tongue – perhaps in a more underprivileged, abused and dependent outing in his next incarnation.
One doesn't disapprove of the Nursery planets that entrain the next generation of young Anunnaki as they also provide us with soul food and essence and other such mixtures of ideas that from time to time are unique – or intimate new flavours and combinations of technology and processes that one finds appealing.
One has to admit that if it were not for the farming efforts in such places made by the Imperial Zeta Hive there would be a lot more of the Anunnaki walking around these worlds looking like human muppets.
Fortunately the Anunnaki tradition has incorporated the canning and packaging industry supplied by the Zeta, although many of the Anunnaki lines still prefer organic farming and predation.
The Eternal War on Error is hungry work and needs the creation of more HUmen by the HU to supply us with the quality essence and new process descriptions one needs for food and entertainment.
Admittedly the one advantage the HUmen have though is that they can farm their sheep and pigs and milk their cattle without dressing up to look like them.