Cincinnatus

"The purpose of this meeting is to evaluate the candidates for Dictator of the Republic. I will be chairing this proceeding. For formality's sake, I am Punditus, but of course, you all know me, ha, ha."

"Point of curiosity, sir!"

"Yes, Publius?" scowled Punditus patiently.

"Exactly what is your authority for arrogating this role to yourself?"

"My immense experience and expertise, of course," smiled Punditus, with frowning eyes.

"But ..." began Publius.

"You can shut up now," said Punditus affably. "No one wants to hear anything you have to say. We have all agreed that we must find a replacement for Dictator Midlandus, as he has mucked everything up beyond all recognition."

"This is the same Midlandus whom you supported as the gods' gift to the Republic until ... oh, last week," interjected Publius.

"Apparently, there is some part of 'shut up' that isn't clear to you," replied Punditus. "We have guards who can explain it to you, and since tasers haven't been invented yet, spears will have to do. Capiche? Ok, we have with us tonight the ... important candidates for Dictator: Newyorkus, Chicagus, and Detroitus."

"Excuse me!" It was the slow-learning Publius again. "Where's Cincinnatus?"

"He's just a farmer!" snapped Punditus. "Give that guy a poke, will you?"

"Youch!" shrieked Publius. "Those things are sharp!"

"Right!" continued Punditus. "Newyorkus, why should we select you as Dictator?"

"I'm very sober and experienced," said Newyorkus. "and I'm religious, and I support the troops. And I really, really want to be Dictator."

"Chicagus, how about you?"

"I have a new vision for the Republic!" cried Chicagus. "And I'm more religious, and I support the troops more. And I really, really, really want to be Dictator."

"And you, Detroitus?" continued Punditus.

"I will be all things to all people," said Detroitus. "You name it, I am it. I am the most religious, and I support the troops most. And I need to be Dictator."

"Um, I'm still bleeding from the last spear jab," Publius interrupted, "but I just have to bring this up. The Volscians and their allies are about to attack, and harvest time is upon us. We need someone who can kick their butts quickly and get us back home in time to bring in the crops. I think Cincinnatus is our guy. None of these big-city guys you've got there cares about doing the right thing for the Republic. They just want the power and prestige."

The rest of the document is blotted out by some reddish substance. This document was discovered following the end of the Bellum Volsciana in the archives of documents from obscure principalities pulped by the Volscian war machine. The name of "the Republic" mentioned in this document is, unfortunately, lost forever.