EDICT TEN:
"Funny Hat Day"

The THIRD THURSDAY of EVERY MONTH, when I am Lord and Emperor over this insignificant sphere, will be FUNNY HAT DAY. Everyone will be required to wear FUNNY HATS all day to keep themselves from TAKING THINGS TOO SERIOUSLY.

If you do not VOLUNTARILY wear a FUNNY HAT, a FUNNY HAT will be ASSIGNED to you. And you don't want that. Trust me.

I SHALL RULE THIS PLANET.

EDICT NINE:
"Urban Transport"

CARS SUCK. Especially downtown. And while you rabble can content yourselves SUCKING EXHAUST and watching your pure white snow turn to grey CARCINOGENIC DIRT, MY REIGN WILL NOT TOLERATE IT.
Upon my rightful ascension to power, ONLY EMERGENCY VEHICLES will be TOLERATED in urban areas. Huge parking areas will be freely available outside every urban core.

There will be a TWO-TRACK transport system running through every street: ONE TRACK for PASSENGER transport, the OTHER track for BULK transport. DELIVERIES will be LOADED AND UNLOADED onto INNER-URBAN FREIGHT TRACK VEHICLES. When possible, FREIGHT track will be laid in alleys BEHIND streets, leaving the streets FREE for PEDESTRIAN traffic and PASSENGER transport vehicles.

I SHALL RULE THIS PLANET.

EDICT EIGHT:
"Toppings"

NO SANDWICH shall have LESS THAN THREE TOPPINGS. I am SICK AND TIRED of people eating SANDWICHES that are just, say, PEANUT BUTTER. LIVE IT UP, YOU DWEEBS. When the world writhes under the spiked heel of my iron-shod boot, you shall ALL HAVE GOOD SANDWICHES ALL THE TIME. No more "honey" sandwiches. HONEY AND PEANUT BUTTER AND MAYBE SOME CLOVES. Huh? You like that? Ham sandwich? SCREW THAT. HAM and MAYO and DIJON MUSTARD and SOME BEAN SPROUTS, if they're FRESH. Church lunches will become MAJOR EVENTS with those LITTLE CUT-UP SANDWICHES becoming the HIT OF THE PARTY instead of a CRINGING EMBARRASMENT.

Under my regime, the world will have HAPPY SANDWICHES.

I SHALL RULE THIS PLANET.

EDICT SEVEN:
"Numbering of edicts"

EDICT SIX shall always be known as "EDICT #4."

DO NOT QUESTION ME ON THIS. Your TINY MINDS cannot COMPREHEND the IMMENSE NUMEROLOGICAL SIGNIFICANCE of what I am doing. Your HEADS WOULD POP LIKE MARSHMALLOWS IN THE MICROWAVE if it were EXPLAINED to you, and the EXPLANATION would take SEVEN YEARS OF using SMALL WORDS and FELT THINGIES ON A FABRIC BOARD. This time could be used MORE CONSTRUCTIVELY in building a FORTY-FOOT MOLDED NAUGAHYDE STATUE of me for my BUFFET PALACE, do you not agree?

Of COURSE you do.

I SHALL RULE THIS PLANET.

EDICT #4:
"Holidays."

I did not issue EDICTS over the PAST TWO DAYS because it was HOLIDAY here in QUEBEC. I DRANK ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES and WATCHED MANY MOVIES on my HOME ENTERTAINMENT SYSTEM.

I LIKE HOLIDAYS, but I HATE to see people WORKING during them, especially when they MAKE NOISE. When my iron fist (cleverly concealed in a velvet glove) GRIPS THE EARTH like a TODDLER HUGS A SOCK MONKEY, doing ANY form of work on HOLIDAYS will be FORBIDDEN COMPLETELY. No lawn-mowing. No weed-whacking. NO RESTAURANTS OR DISCOTHEQUES WILL BE OPEN. If you get cut, you can DAMN WELL BLEED until the HOLIDAY IS OVER. Try applying direct pressure to the wound, or shove a q-tip into the exposed vein.

One may wonder how this will be MONITORED if nobody is WORKING. The answer will come with a future edict, the one detailing the FLYING CYBORG SPY MONKEY PATROLS. For now, rest in the knowledge that HOLIDAYS will be ALL ABOUT BEER AND BAD MOVIES. YOUR RELAXATION WILL BE MANDATORY.

I SHALL RULE THIS PLANET.