The kingdom was in a state of idle anticipation when Auntie Milly Tally was enlisted to oversee the recruitment of men and women in Winnie form. A semi-literate beautician-turned-media mogul—thanks to her Milly TV Station. Her bias was an open secret: stunning women in short skirts and brawny, mulwandisome men with long beards. It was the dawn of a new “transparent” pilot era, where once a year, an ordinary citizen was randomly selected to assist in governance.
By the time recruitment hit its peak, Jane Roll realized the catastrophe Milly had created. Over half a million applications had flooded in, transforming the process into a colossal mess. Sorting out heartfelt love letters from actual applications became an administrative nightmare. Officers struggled—valiantly but unsuccessfully—to separate the wheat from the chaff. What was meant to be a month-long exercise stretched into half a year—long after Milly had been shown the exit. Even Napoleon himself couldn’t have untangled this debacle! In the aftermath, several pregnancies were reported, and babies soon followed.
“Bwana,” one officer suggested, “why don’t we transfer this application mess to the actual officers’ mess?” And so it was done. Now, all the letters received undivided attention—under the watchful eyes of tax-free brown bottles. As for email applications? Those remained undownloaded, courtesy of chronic internet blues. The officers, deeply invested in their new sorting strategy, argued that shifting the documents to the More Languish Conference Center would only prolong the already endless process.
The Millytally recruitment syndrome quickly infected other service wings.
- Zam National Ham lost track of names.
- Zam National Save struggled with an outdated computer—nothing was moving.
- Zam Air Surf misplaced the recruitment list while literally surfing.
- Zam National Poll was still conducting polls.
The silver lining? Nepotistic recruitment was now officially “over.”
Of course, the few regions that had benefited remained silent, while those left out were appeased with vague promises of inclusion in the next recruitment cycle. By the time the pass-out parade finally took place, Milly had long been dismissed, and the authorities reassured the public that a “proper” general recruitment would be conducted—right before the next elections.
Typical Millytally recruitment. And, as expected, no one complained.
