Every year the Supreme Dictator is entertained on his birthday by way of a grand concert performed by the Great Orchestra.
On the 50th birthday of the Supreme Dictator the Great Orchestra's performance is being guided by a new and young music director by the name of Saba Saging.
The whole concert is going well until Saging made the mistake of prompting the bassists too early on the second section of the third piece. A mistake of this magnitude only warranted death by means of the Supreme Dictator's favorite mode of execution: the electric chair.
Now despite being a dystopian society, the world still has it's share of principles. An example of this would be the practice of the last meal. On the day of Saba Saging's execution, the Supreme Dictator asks him what he would want for his last meal.
"It is my wish to consume a single ripe plantain." answers Saging.
The Supreme Dictator grants him his request and as Saging is eating his plantain, he is seated in the electric chair and the lever is pulled. A burst of electricity surges into the chair but for some unknown reason... Saging is unharmed.
Ever the fatalistic person, the Supreme Dictator sees this as a sign that maybe the music director should be given another chance. And so, Saba Saging is a free man once again.
The next year comes and Saging is once again instructed to perform as music director for the Grand Orchestra's concert on the Supreme Dictator's birthday.
Everything is going well until Saging made the mistake of prompting the violinists too early on the third section of the fourth piece. A mistake of this magnitude only warranted death by means of the Supreme Dictator's favorite mode of execution: the electric chair.
On the day of Saba Saging's execution, the Supreme Dictator asks him again what he would like for his last meal.
"If the Supreme Dictator could grant me this final request, that is, I would like to eat a plantain, I know that once my time comes I shall be able to rest in peace."
And so, just like the year before, the Supreme Dictator grants Saging his request. As the young music director was eating his plantain, he is seated in the electric chair and the lever is pulled. A burst of electricity surges into the chair but for some unknown reason... Saging remains unharmed.
Confounded and frustrated, the Supreme Dictator curses fate and lets Saging go once again.
Six months pass and the Supreme Dictator becomes mortally ill. On his deathbed he commands the Grand Orchestra to perform for one last time. Saba Saging, still the one leading the ensemble, proceeds to guide the band into its final and most spectacular performance.
Enraptured by the exquisite music, the Supreme Dictator is about to peacefully pass away when a jarring note comes from the misguided instruments of the trombone's group. Fury engulfs the Supreme Dictator and he orders that the whole orchestra be executed. However, Saba Saging screams with remorse and implores the Supreme Dictator to spare his band mates and only punish him.
Revitalized by a profound sense of purpose fueled by anger, the Supreme Dictator personally drags Saging into the electric chair and shoves him a whole bushel of plantains.
"EAT IT! EAT ALL OF IT!" screams the Supreme Dictator.
And as Saging reluctantly accepts his fate he eats each plantain slowly one by one.
When Saging finally finishes the last piece of fruit, the Supreme Dictator, with a manic glint in his eyes, pulls the lever of the electric chair and lets out an exultant roar. He lets the electricity surge forth, never letting up until several hours pass.
Exhausted and feeling the creeping call of death, the Supreme Dictator crouches over Saging and checks to see if the music director was still. His eyes go wide with incredulity and shock.
"What sorcery is this?!" the Supreme Dictator shouts. "Does the plantain somehow provide you with invulnerability or immortality? Tell me! For my soul cannot rest with the fact that I have had the knowledge of how to defy death under my nose after all these years!"
Saba Saging, tired but unscathed, sits upright on the metal chair and sighs.
"Plantains have nothing to do with it." he says, while looking sadly at the dying ruler.
"Then how?" asks the Supreme Dictator, ever so closely treading the edge of death's threshold.
"I guess..." Saba Saging sighs, "After all these years, I'm still a bad conductor."
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