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Once upon a time in the land of OUR country, freedom was a rare commodity. 

The citizens were bound by countless rules, regulations, and, worst of all, forms. There were forms to fill in, forms to let us sleep, and even forms to dream. Dreaming without proper authorisation could lead to severe penalties, including being sentenced to fill out more forms.

In the heart of OUR Country lived Bob, a rather jovial and friendly man who had grown tired of the endless paperwork. One particularly dreary Monday, Bob found himself buried under a pile of reports. As he sifted through them, he stumbled upon a peculiar form labeled “Application for Freedom.” Intrigued, he read the fine print:

"Freedom Application Form 389-B: Complete this form in triplicate to apply for freedom. Attach Form 389-C for temporary liberation and Form 389-D for permanent escape."

Bob’s eyes twinkled with hope. “Freedom? That sounds splendid!” he exclaimed to his office mate, Sally, who was diligently filling out a Form 457-J for “Office Gossip Reporting.”

“Freedom, you say?” Sally raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like a myth. But if anyone can navigate the labyrinth of forms, it’s you, Bob.”

 form 389B

Bob took a deep breath and began the arduous task of filling out the Freedom Application. Page after page, he filled in his personal details, reasons for seeking freedom, a 12-page essay on his understanding of liberty, and a haiku about his soul’s yearning for release.


After days of effort, he proudly marched to the Department of Liberation with his meticulously completed forms. The clerk, a dour woman looked at Bob’s paperwork.

“Hmmm,” the clerk muttered, flipping through the pages. “You forgot Form 389-F: Certificate of Form Completion. Without it, this application is invalid.”

Bob’s heart sank. “Where do I get Form 389-F?”

“At the Department of Redundancy Department,” the clerk replied with a deadpan expression.

 form 389f

Determined, Bob trekked across town to the Department of Redundancy Department. He navigated through corridors that looped back on themselves and encountered signs that led nowhere. Finally, he found the Form 389-F, filled it out, and returned to the Department of Liberation.

The clerk examined the new form and nodded. “All in order. You’ll receive your Freedom License in 6-8 weeks.”


Bob’s face lit up with joy. Six to eight weeks later, a shiny license arrived in the mail. It read: "Freedom License - Valid for 24 hours."


“Better than nothing,” Bob thought. He immediately planned his day of freedom. No forms, no rules, just pure, unadulterated liberty. 

On the appointed day, he woke up early, donned his brightest Hawaiian shirt, and stepped outside.

Bob’s first stop was the park, where he strolled without needing a Walking Permit. He visited a café and ordered without completing the Beverage Selection Form. He even chatted with strangers without submitting a Conversational Intent Declaration.


As the sun began to set, Bob felt a sense of profound joy and lightness he had never experienced. But just as he was about to savour his final hour of freedom, a man in a dark suit approached him.

“Excuse me, sir,” the man said, flashing a badge. “Freedom Police. May I see your Freedom License?”

Bob proudly presented his license, but the officer frowned. “This license expired three minutes ago. I’m afraid you’re in violation of Code 76-B: Unauthorised Freedom.”

Welcome to the Future.

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