Chapter 11
Thursday in Waterford began with the usual symphony of mooing cows, a squirrel attempting to file a complaint against the mayor for "excessive nut hoarding," and the BK Lounge's "BJ's: Finally Found!" banner now looking a little worse for wear after last night's condiment-themed karaoke party.
Colonel Mustard and Lieutenant Pickle arrived at the BK Lounge to find a new sign posted on the bulletin board: "Town Hall Now Requires Three Forms to Request One Form." The crowd groaned collectively, as if the very air had thickened with paperwork.
Pickle sighed, "Sir, it seems bureaucracy has reached a new level of absurdity. I just tried to get a permit to host a picnic, and they handed me a 47-page application… in triplicate."
Mustard shook his head. "Bureaucracy is a beast that eats its own tail, Lieutenant. The more rules they make, the more tangled the mess becomes. And the only thing growing faster than the paperwork is the town's collection of unpaid parking tickets."
Pelosi with the Clues appeared, holding a rubber stamp that read "DENIED" in bold letters. "The system is designed to protect itself, not the people. Sometimes you have to fight fire with fire… or at least with a well-placed stamp."
Just then, the mayor burst in, waving a stack of forms. "Good news! We're introducing a new form to request extensions on existing forms. It's called Form X-47B!"
The room fell silent. Then erupted into laughter so loud it rattled the ketchup bottles.
Mustard stood, raising his voice over the din. "Waterford! When bureaucracy becomes a monster, it's up to us to tame it. We need common sense, not common forms. We need action, not more paperwork."
Pickle grabbed a marker and started drawing a flowchart on the wall, which quickly devolved into a doodle of a cat chasing its tail.
Mustard smiled. "Sometimes, the best way to fight bureaucracy is to confuse it with nonsense. If they want forms, let's give them forms they can't understand."
The townsfolk cheered, and the BK Lounge turned into a hub of creative resistance—complete with parody songs, sarcastic petitions, and enough paperwork to build a fort.
Parody Song:
"Paperwork Blues"
(To the tune of "Blue Suede Shoes")
Well, you can't get a permit,
Without filling out forms,
And the forms need more forms,
It's a bureaucratic storm!
Don't step on the paperwork,
Don't mess up the queue,
'Cause the beast of bureaucracy
Is coming for you!
Paperwork blues, paperwork blues,
Got me stuck in a queue with the paperwork blues!
As the song ended, even the mayor's squirrel seemed to nod in approval, though it was probably just eyeing the leftover fries.
Colonel Mustard raised his glass. "To common sense, creativity, and fighting the beast—one ridiculous form at a time."
Pickle grinned. "And to never letting paperwork win."
Because in Waterford, bureaucracy may be a beast, but with a little humor and a lot of mustard, it's a beast that can be tamed.
Colonel Mustard's Clue:
If the paperwork starts chasing its own tail, it's time to draw a new map.