Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there was an editor. The editor had a beautiful life, and her staff worked quickly and efficiently, reporting, revising, and reviewing in perfect harmony all throughout the days of their lives. The editor was prone to infectious giggling, loved to read the things her reporters came up with, and was, in general, a very happy a carefree young woman.
One day, one of the reporters went off to work, whistling merrily, and came back with a dark cloud hovering over his head.
The editor was very upset. She did not like to see her reporters unhappy, for if they were unhappy, she too must be sad. She asked him what was wrong, and he said he wasn’t sure, but there was something wrong with the parliament.
The editor decided that whatever was wrong with the neighboring kingdom, it was really not her problem, so she went about her merry work with cherry face, and soon the whole thing was forgotten.
Alas, as with apples lying in storage deep in the cellar, there were worms in the parliament, and the worms were eating away silently. The editor had forgotten about the parliamentary problems, but one of her reporters, an ambassador to the parliament, had not.
The ambassador came back with a warning: a city that ignores its darkest elements is destined to be devoured by them.
The editor was frightened. She called a meeting with her advisors and asked them what to do. Together, they came up with a solution. After all, they were reporters, with a basic covenant of knowledge and truth, and although their little world had been happy in all the days past, they needed to address the growing unrest in the parliament.
The editor and the ambassador went to the parliament and asked them what was wrong, but the parliament wanted to keep its worms in its apple, so to speak, and would not say. The editor was upset, and asked the ambassador to find someone willing to tell her what was going on.
The ambassador, a kindly and diplomatic soul, arranged negotiations with another ambassador to the parliament, as well as the Prime Minister, who told the editor all about the problems in parliament.
The problem was that the worms in the parliamentary apple had teeth. If the parliament spoke out, and if the editor ran a story, the worms might bite back. The editor was frightened, and decided that she would just print the basic facts, because she needed to talk to the dragon to see if it were really a dragon, or just looked like one to the Prime Minister.
Once, long ago, there were always happy endings. The editor, though, had never believed in the perpetuity of happy endings, and was not at all convinced she was going to get one….
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