I see my last decision caused some sour faces among the liberal pinkies in the audience. Indeed some of you may have so far thought me a dictator. You may say I'm not genuinely supported by my subjects and all that silly Yanqui talk about libraryty. That couldn't be further from the truth! To celebrate my beginning last year in the office, I will prove you wrong and play the election game!
Now come, I will take you personally to talk with the people and you can see for yourself how much they love me.
See? I'm supported in the city...
In the countryside...
By the seņoritas...
By the po...
WHAT??!! What do you mean you vote for Ada Castro? Who is Ada Castro anyway? That's not my name at all!
This man is clearly a danger to the national security. He needs to join the traffic statistics.
Oh my Me! Closer inspection reveals that the problem is rooted deeper than I imagined! There are traitors and spies everywhere! My adult schools are getting full!
There is only one solution for this! The safety of the country demands it!
We must eliminate the traitors as a class!
Bandits and saboteurs! That one had a Yanqui watch!
And these ones spelled my name wrong. "But we can't even write"?! What kind of excuse is that?! Decadent and counterrevolutionary monkey talk, I say! Words used by enemies of the people!
Remember, children, not voting El Presidente is very, very wrong.
Ha! The class war has ended and we have emerged victorious! Take that, Lenin!
OK, time for games and fun are over. My term is at the end. Therefore my last act as El Presidente: sell the whole island, its people and production facilities to the Yanquis and become filthy rich in process.
Hee hee hehehee! You bought it, didn't you! You thought I'd really give all the fruits of my hard labor to those idiot Tropicans? Imagine the look on their faces! And to think they too believed I would hand it all over to them! Them! Bwahahahaa, don't make me laugh! Money talks, poor man walks, I drive my SUV in the future too.
Huh? What's that noise? Why am I always interrupted in the middle of a monologue?
Where did those guys come from?! And more importantly, where did they get guns from?!
Stop them, you fools! Do something! Where is my army?!
With them, apparently...
Well, I don't need them anyway! I know my military tactics! This one is what the Yanquis named "strategic retreat" in Vietnam!
Sigh. Poor Tropicans. Doomed to live without me. Oh well. That island was getting depleted anyway. With any luck, this balloon will take me to another one, hopefully with a little bit smarter people. And if it won't at least there is loads of rum in here.
Cheers!
THE END (UNTIL PEPE RUNS OUT OF BOOZE, THAT IS)