The New Neopian Order, As Ordained By Sloth
Late Thursday evening, I received a thick envelope from an unknown address—4826
Grundox Street—delivered by the Express Messenger Weewoo service, which was
odd, seeing as Weewoos have no wings. I was dubiously eyeing the postage, which
consisted of seven Ring of Sloth stamps, when the envelope began to writhe and
peel away from my hands. The paper curled up and fell in strips to the ground,
leaving me staring dumbly at a sheaf of paper in a nauseating shade of green,
neatly folded into thirds. I knew who had sent the envelope as soon as I saw
the seal in bold black ink.
WHAT could that mad doctor possibly gain by writing to me? I thought.
The answer became clear as I unfolded the sheaf of paper—more like a novella-length
book, really—and perused the first few lines.
As a reporter for the Times, my journalist’s instincts told me I must spread
the news. This was top-notch stuff, fresh from the hands of everyone’s favourite
villain. This news would make Neopians scurry to hide under their beds, it would
make Neopets quiver in fear of getting zapped by the lab ray, it would destroy
the stock market, turn the clouds black and thunderous, make shopkeepers stay
home from work, melt Terror Mountain, topple Coltzan’s Shrine, close the banks,
ruin the economy, and send the world of Neopia into a swirling abyss of economic
depression and fear. At least, that is what I believe the writer intended to
imply. Dr. Sloth always did have a flair for the dramatic.
Anyhow—the contents of Doctor Frank Sloth’s letter, or more precisely, his
terms for conquering Neopia—are as follows.
You have been chosen to receive this very important message because… your
name was pulled from a hat. Anyhow, I am entrusting you with the duty of informing
the world of my plans and terms. You have twenty-four hours to do so, and after
the given twenty-four hour period, any Neopians failing to comply with or recognize
these terms will be zapped with my ray gun. I am sure you would not want any
harm to befall your fellow Neopians, so I trust you will make sure this information
reaches all eyes and ears.
The plan: I’m taking over Neopia. There’s nothing you can do about it.
Any other information regarding this plan is top-secret, so don’t try to pry
any hints loose.
I expect the following terms to be recognized within twenty-four hours,
unless specified otherwise.
The New Neopian Order
1. Starting next week, Dr. Frank Sloth may only be referred to as His Majesty,
Sir Sloth, Emperor Of All Neopia Excepting The Lost Desert Because The Heat
Is Intolerable While Wearing A Black Trench Coat. Failure to do so will result
in use of the ray gun.
2. Seventeen percent (17%) of all Neopoints spent in the marketplace, collected
from the bank, withdrawn from shop till, and earned from games will belong to
me. This tariff will be called the Sloth Tax. On Sloth Appreciation Day this
tax will increase to thirty-one percent (31%). Mutant Grundos will be unleashed
upon anybody found to be avoiding these taxes.
3. The blimps in that silly game, Skies Over Meridell, will henceforth be
used to transport ice from Terror Mountain to the Lost Desert. Those who volunteer
to slave away at the mountain will have a reduced Sloth Tax rate of thirteen
percent (13%). As soon as the Lost Desert has sufficiently cooled from the ice,
I will extend my reign over that land, completing my goal of world conquest.
5. The Sloth Tax will be used to fund the transportation of ice to the desert.
Any remaining revenue will be used to raise legions of clockwork Grundos, which
will obey my every whim.
7. All Neopians must, when I venture out in public, make the proper obeisance.
I will accept kneeling, bowing, or groveling.
11. When making the proper obeisance, I expect to see crowds flocking towards
me begging to be used as an ottoman. However, any disruptive mobs will be remedied
with a ray gun. If you turn out to be an uncomfortable ottoman, you too will
be zapped with a ray gun.
13. All Neopians must learn to count using only prime numbers (and the number
‘one’). All the other numbers have factors, which means they can be broken down.
If something can be broken down, it is weak—and I refuse to have weakness in
my dominion. So start studying. I expect all Neo-blocked-ousand fifty-seven
(7,057) as of one week from this document’s publishing.
17. All Neopians must set “I *heart* Sloth” as their active avatar on Tuesdays
and Thursdays. The random “Sloth!” avatar will work as well. Neopians who have
neither avatar will have a twenty-three percent (23%) Sloth Tax, as opposed
to seventeen percent (17%).
19. Neopians sporting the Space Faerie avatar will be promptly blasted with
an extra-strength ray gun.
23. You know that Splat-A-Sloth game you play? Don’t.
29. Lately, I have noticed several pieces of artwork featuring yours truly
in only his undergarments—namely, white underpants with red hearts. I am shocked
that my loving fans would publicize such scandalous media. Such frivolous undergarments
are beneath my dignity. As future ruler of Neopia, I demand that such libelous
documents be deleted, and never contemplated again. Besides, the hearts are
pink, not red.
31. Neopia must recognize that I am not the Happiness Faerie. I had been hoping
to keep it a secret, but the Happiness Faerie is actually a relation of mine.
He… it… happens to be my very, very, confused cousin. Any mention of this relation,
unless used with my permission, will incur my wrath.
37. I want my own line of interior design products. This includes but is not
limited to chairs, desks, lamps, bean bags, chandeliers, rugs, paintings, and
various other household fixtures. One room in every Neohome is required to be
dedicated to my dashing image.
41. Those fat little Neopets, what’s their name…Chias! Yes, those—they come
in forty-four different colors. Why isn’t there a Sloth Chia yet? I demand that
they also be painted Sloth. Neopia hasn’t lived until it has seen a Chia that
looks like me!
43. There will be no more Sloth Invasion Tax, because I will already have
made Neopia my own. I can’t call it an invasion tax if there’s nothing left
47. Arbitrary taxes will be imposed on all Neopians to make up for the loss
of the Sloth Invasion Tax. These will include but are not limited to: Smelly
Sock Tax, Kielbasa Tax, and Tuesday Tax.
53. The Island Mystic will be appointed as my financial advisor. He will be
in charge of collecting all aforementioned taxes and assigning new ones. Such
a smart Kyrii, he is. He’s got a head full of good sense.
59. Taelia has her own Negg, so why can’t I? Every Negg collector needs a
Sloth Negg in his or her gallery. It’ll be green with red eyes and black trench
coat. It also needs that funny little hairdo…
61. Sometime in Year 7, I expect the Usukicon to be advertising an all-new
Sloth Usuki doll. The Sloth Usuki will be superior to all other Usukis, come
with a removable black trench coat, and have red eyes that shoot real lasers.
The Usuki industry (and Doctor Sloth, for that matter) is not responsible for
any injury, damage, loss of visual acuity, or global warming caused by the Sloth
71. Random events in which transmogrification potions are given out will be
increased by 17%. The more mutants, the better. Neopia doesn’t need pets in
silly faerie get-ups.
The list goes on—all the way to number 7,057. Many of the later terms get
quite technical… and boring to the extreme. (Who knew Doctor Sloth could be
such a bore? … I guess it isn’t my best interest to say that... oops.)
Who knows how long it will take for Sloth to achieve his dream of Neopian
domination? It could be years for all we know, since his plots do have a tendency
to run away… but, should Doctor Sloth’s evil scheme begin to unfold any time
in the near future, I believe it will be a long and difficult battle over truth,
justice, and the right to wield the space faerie avatar. It will culminate in
a horrific struggle between Doctor Sloth, his minions, and the citizens of Neopia—should
they choose either side.
Oh—give me a moment. Someone’s knocking on the door, and they claim they’ve
got a ray gun.