It was a sad day down here in Paperville. Dictator Doodle was assassinated right after “The Movement of the Sticks,” as they called it. I was the only one who knew it would happen. And now I, Smiley Bob, must set things right.

It was April 20, 3008, one thousand years after John Paper set the rights for all people, except the Stick Figures, about who never were cared, and were only thought of as the lazy man’s drawing.

About 500 years ago, the citizens of Paperville decided that they were too good to work; and they needed slaves. The government thought this, too; but they could not designate a group of people as slaves, everyone had rights. But not the Stick figures. The answer was so simple; a sketch could have figured it out. A new law was passed, and it read:
All people who have felt they are too good for work, have been listened to, and therefore answered. After much discussion, the heads of Paperville decided that all people have rights. John Paper made sure of that. We were about to say that no slaves could be used in Paperville when it was brought up that the Stick Figures had no rights. It was soon decided on that all citizens can do whatever they please with these creatures, but standards must be set. When buying and selling the Sticks, a full life report of him/her must be filled out; and a minimum price is $1.50.
News of this new law spread faster than a poodle doodle’s mouth in cheesy rain. Only I, Smiley Bob, knew that this was not the way the great drawer of Paperville wanted it. He created this place for peace, not laziness and forced labor.
Everyone in Paperville knew that it was forbidden to communicate with artists. I knew this as well, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I picked up a drawing of a pencil, and wrote as fast as I could. The artist was coming. I had to make him notice it! Think, Smiley, think!
“That’s it,” I exclaimed!
“What the h***?! Why is there a drawing of Pamela Anderson on my paper? And what’s written here? Paperville in jeopardy? Stick figures being used as slaves? Mom? Did you write this?” the artist asked.
“Yes,” I exclaimed. “The artist will know what to do! My work here is done. I just hope he gets there in time.”
The next day was disastrous. The artist thought of it as a joke and redrew dictator doodle dead. The Sticks’ rebellion was crushed, but they refused to do work. I guess in the long run it will work out, though, because the Sticks are nowhere to be found; they probably fled to Pencilvannia. I’m sure they’re living a happy life there. The Quackers (Kwa-kers) believe even foreigners have rights, and the Stick Figures will establish a life there. I just hope the artist punishes the citizens of Paperville. I guess I will have to flee somewhere else because the Sticks think I am one of them, and I am wanted here for communicating with the artist. I just hope I find a place just like Paperville used to be. (Sigh) What went wrong?