THE BUREAU OF FACELESSNESS
It came to pass, after the shooting died down and the fires were put out, that the government hadn't completely dissolved after all. Remnants of federal agencies, with clerks and managers, crawled out of their hidey holes and began to reassemble the national infrastructure.
One of the first things they did was to patch together a new federal agency, and make me the head of it. It's called the Bureau of Facelessness, and I and my staff are tasked with the job of wiping out every face in the United States.
Eyebrows must be removed. And eyes, with their shifting and disturbing colors, are plucked out with a painless laser process -- free of charge, I might add. Noses, of course, are what caused most of the carnage during the last five years. The Big Noses against the Small Noses, and the Hairy Noses against the Clean Noses. It was all blood, sweat, and boogers. We use a very efficient nose acid that melts 'em down like wax in the sunlight. Mouths may remain, under certain circumstances, but there are no lips allowed; they were always extremely divisive. When the procedure is finished, the facial skin is tinted lime green. Only lime green. Babies look so darn cute with those lime green faceless faces!
Our bureau has processed almost the entire population now -- with only a few pockets of determined facists remaining, and we're getting to them PDQ.
Just the other day one of our crack teams cornered a dangerous specimen in the wilds of Maine, and I helo'd out to be in on the kill -- or rather, the unfacing.
It was apparent that the man would not give up without a fight, and we already had sixteen agents down, so I asked for a bullhorn and addressed the man in his shack as calmly as I could:
"You're outnumbered, friend. C'mon out and we'll forget the sixteen dead agents and the parking tickets" I said to him. "You can have a clean slate." He didn't care for my pun very much, and nearly winged me with his rifle.
"Okay" I said angrily. "If that's the way you want it, that's the way you'll get it!"
I ordered the remaining agents to open fire with their howitzers and bazookas. The shack was soon reduced to a smoldering pile of embers, and our facist came out with his hands up. In a case like this a little rough justice is appropriate, so I had the boys give him the economy face fix -- with a butter knife.
Outside of these minor contretemps the program is going swimmingly. And peace is returning to our once brutalized nation. When reporters ask, in that strange lipless lisp, when I'm having my own face removed I'm glad to tell them that it's already been done. In fact, I and all my staff have taken things to the next logical step; we've had everything removed from the neck up. It makes for smooth sailing in the bureau, believe you me!
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