I Served the King of England Page #3

and I no doubt have renal gravel.

I've got a good heart

and lungs, good legs...

The doctor says he's never

seen such a 60-year-old.

I could live to be ninety.

Isn't that a shame? Who did

I offend? Why must I live so...

Sorry, but we don't have a mirror.

Is it true that mankind is

a progeny evil, stupid and criminals?

Worse than that.

All philosophers and prophets

exclude Jesus Christ.

They're nothing more

than a pack of scoundrels,

villains, bastards, and murders.

Mankind would be

better off without them.

- We in the 20th century...

- What was it like with the emperor?

It's true:
I have a medal

from the Emperor of Ethiopia.

We in the 20th century

are inclined

to see the glory in ourselves

and the shame in others.

That's how the mess got started.

And in that unimaginable chaos...

It really is a medal

from the Emperor of Ethiopia.

I was lucky enough that

the most illustrious of honors

took place at Hotel Paris.

That distinguished African

guest chose our hotel

to host a gala banquet for the

government and diplomatic corps.

His cooks brought

a live camel to the hotel.

It was unambiguously bleating,

"No, no!" - -to not slit its throat

But its throat was slit kosher style

and blood, filled the hotel yard.

Then those Ethiopian cooks

boned the whole camel,

made a huge fire,

and roasted it.

They had to antelopes

quickly skinned and roasted.

Then they put stuffed, half roasted

turkeys into the antelopes.

The filled the empty spaces

with hundreds of hardboiled eggs,

and put the turkey-stuffed

antelopes into the camel.

The turkeys were stuffed with fish,

and everything was packed with eggs.

Hey kept sprinkling everything with

special spices while drinking beer.

When the table was laid, the

Emperor and various Ethiopian potentates

arrived with our prime minister

and other officials.

And then that African specialty

was sumptuously served,

a small token from

the emperor of Ethiopia.

The emperor was satisfied.

It had been arranged that

the oldest and most respected

of the wait staff, Mr. Skrivanek,

would be decorated

for the excellent banquet.

Once again

I knew I couldn't stay long.

No one would forgive the fact that

I alone had receive that medal.

Good evening.

Get a move on, dammit!

I'm going to take

my belt to your behind!

I knew that the girl

from the chocolate factory,

who was being punished because

she liked to sleep around,

would not be happy.

Instead, her life

would be sadly beautiful.

Life with her would be anguish

and fulfillment in one.

And it came to me that she didn't

care who used to live here

that it was indifferent to her

history of those who'd had to leave.

They'd lived here for centuries,

but I knew nothing about them,

people I now clean up after.

This is the final territorial

claim that I must raise here,

but it is a claim that I will

bring to a satisfactory end.

The history of the problem:

In 1918,

under the heading of the right

to national self-determination,

several insane so-called statesmen

reshaped Central Europe.

It is to them that

Czechoslovakia owes its existence.

That state is founded on the lie

that a Czechoslovak nation exists.

The father of that lie is Benes.

I began to pay more

attention to myself.

I dressed nicely in my free time

and started wearing lifts

so I'd be a bit taller.

Soon after Hitler's speech,

the Sudetenland was occupied.

Victorious German students

walked down Prague's streets.

In revenge, Czechs stole the

white socks right off their feet.

And I saw how all Czechs

were unfair to the Germans,

and I was ashamed I'd been

a member of the Sokol gym club.

Czech hooligans roughly tore

the knee socks off a young woman.

In Czech I shouted, "Czechs, yuck!

What are you doing, you rabble?"

I shouted until they let us go.

They carried off her sock like

a white scalp, a white trophy.

The girl wheezed out:

"Take it you Bolshevik scum. "

"To disgrace a German teacher

from Cheb like this!"

Prague is a beautiful Reich city.

And it is every German's inalienable

right to walk the streets.

I was so incensed that I wanted

to rip my Sokol membership card.

But I couldn't find it.

A day will come when

the Fuhrer will liberate

every German from the bohemian

Forest to the Carpathians.

Why is it so deserted here?

This was a German village.

Germans and Czechs

lived side by side for centuries.

Hitler came

and the Czechs had to leave.

Then the Germans lost the war

and had to leave.

They were resettled.

I understood why the political

leaders were resettled:

They were brutal, full of a pride

that was their ultimate undoing.

What I didn't understand

was why the workers had to leave,

hands that have yet

to be replaced.

- Were you in the war?

- No. We Czechs don't fight wars.

The Munich Pact, which decreed

that all territory inhabited by

a German majority goes to

the Reich, has led to accelerating

the German army's occupation

of the Czech border regions.

The government, deliberating on

the hard international situation

and forced by circumstances

coming out of the Munich diktat,

could do nothing other than bow

its hitherto proud Czechoslovak head

to unprecedented pressure.

The Czech inhabitants have been

enabled to move to the interior

where they are seeking new homes.

It is up to us and our

solidarity if they find them

and if they are able to find work

under these new circumstances.

N territory now occupied

by German inhabitants,

German Chancellor Adolf Hitler

receives an enthusiastic welcome.

In his Berlin address,

the Reichschancellor

assured world powers that he has

no further territorial claims.

Master max Svabinsky

works on designing a new stamp.

It's issue was made necessary

by changes in the state apparatus.

Engraver Bedrich Heinz

executes Svabinsky's original,

and other specialists

ready the stamp for printing.

Soon the stamp will delight

postal customers everywhere,

as well as collectors and admirers

of Master Svabinskv as well.

Here's your handkerchief back.

My name is Lise.

- And I'm Dite.

- Dite? That means 'child. '

My name is Dite. Jan Dite.

Mv birthplace is so small that I saw

coal for the first time last year.

I'm from Cheb.

I teach physical education

and I'm a regional swimming champ.

I'm maitre d' at Prague's

most beautiful hotel: Hotel Paris.

Maitre d'?

Not quite yet, but soon.

Except for the lungs, you'd

like every main course we have!

Just mineral water, please.

Know anyone who sells stamps?

- Das Menu, bitte

- Excuse me?

- Das Menu.

- Sorry, I don't understand.

- Die Speisekarte.

- Sorry, I don't understand.

War is coming everything

will drop in value except stamps.

They are easy to hide

and transport.

I sold everything

and I'm buying stamps!

Stamps! Stamps! Not gold or jewels.

Currency or securities? Impossible!

War is coming, everything

will drop in value except stamps.

These damn Czechs

are vermin, scum, slaves, pigs...

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