Today is a big day, my brothers and sisters. A truly big day. Today marks the voting process for a new, or revised, president. You have the three big candidates: Harkness, the war president; Winton, the money president; and Endagger, the people's president. All three are laying out their arguements in Liberty City to a crowd of citizens. Today, I tell you, vote Endagger; if not for you, than for me. If either Harkness or Winton are elected, than Galaxy News goes bust. I tell you this now. There are armed guards standing outside my tower, not on behalf of my safety, but there so when something against Harkness's wishes occurs, they'll be able to rush in here and slap me in irons. So, please, keep me out of jail, please? Thank you.
The Warlord has been busy. He's been rallying troops over in the Capitalist State, as well as using his right-hand-man, the sleuth, to gather intell on the Talon Company and their cities and territory. The Warlord has also been appointing "Vassals" to power; the Capitalist State has been split up into different sections, each governed by a Vassal, all of whom answer to the Warlord. The Warlord placed himself unto the title of "King," then declared the state a monarchy. On one hand, this means he will rule with an even more powerful iron-fist. On the other, it means we learn the name of the Warlord. Rickar Swan, now his majesty, King Swan of the great Capitalist State.
In addition to this, my droogs, Swan's taking a bride. We have yet to learn her name, but we know the reason for all these actions: Swan's terrified. For once, he has several true enemies staring him down. The Talon Company could alone tear him apart and his armies, but if chance allows, and Swan reigns victorious, the Rivet State still stands overhead, waiting and watching for the right time to pounce. Swan will be bowing before long, my brothers and sisters, to the flag of the Rivet and her grand President, be it Harkness, Endagger, or, god forbid, Winton.
You all must be asking, "What's so wrong with Winton?" Well, Winton is a weasel. Nothing more, nothing less. His entire plot is bent on power. He spared the Warriors, a former raider gang, in order to have some muscle backing him. He stole the seat of Mayor of Starlight from John Trap by luring him out to the range of battle and allowing him to fall by the hands of the Outcasts. Winton controls Starlight with an iron-fist; he's even going so far to introduce other drug-sources to quell the Red Eyes' presence in his city. The Coppers answer to him and only him. They run wild, killing and beating, while he sits atop his mountain of caps and laughs. Harkness and Endagger have earned their spots on the ballet; Winton bribed and blackmailed his way onto it. So, fuck him, my friends! Harkness for president! Endagger for president! Anyone but motherfucking Winton, mainly because he'll kill me legally if he is elected.
Speaking of corrupt bastards, the slavers of Paradise Falls have been esspecially busy these days. Big Town is being constantly attacked by these monsters, and have lost several lives in the past few months. Smaller towns, such as Arefu, are being closed off. They reached out to larger factions, but none heard their call. None, that is, except the Regulators. These guys will not give up! After the war they fought against the slavers, they still will not give in to the hell that is the wastes. While nations have militaries, the wastes have the Regulators, and that is where one ought to be. Protectors of the peaceful, upholders of true values, bearers of the flag of perfection, the Regulators move forth with their holy mission and fight against the filth that is the slavers!
However, there is much uproar in where the sales of slaves have been moving. I shit you not, slaves have been sold to citizens of the Rivet State. In our contitution, my fellow men and women, is the guaranteed right of freedom! Naturally, you think "well they're being bought to give freedom, right?" Wrong. They're being bought to work, as slaves and otherwise, in the industry lines and plantations, towing away at mills and builds, forging our bullets and our guns and making our food and cleaning our water. How hypicritical can we get before we hit the earth, my friends? Must we begin to slaughter our citizens before we realize we are no better than the Capitalists and the slavers? The Talon Company has as much justification as we do! Damn, I do miss the old days, before the states formed, when men had equality, when disbutes were solved through speech and weaponry, when preaching to the wastes wasn't a crime!
I apologize, America. I truly do. I have one more broadcast before they shut me down. Maybe I'll go away to the Regulators, fight the good fight like Three Dog wanted. Fuck this shit.
Today's motherfucking broadcast was brought to you by the Underworld Hellfire Club. Jazz it up next to your favorite demon.