His name was John, but yesterday he said: "My name is Bill!" And tomorrow his name will change to Peter. This man lived on Xenon-Base, that was a little planet far from earth. On it there were different groups of people. And nobody could blame that John haven't done his work on Friday because there was a rotation of names in every group. This story is a puzzle about the life of that cosmic master who had on that day the name John. He was visitor of some foreign planets. On his planet there was a gentle varying intensity of upward gravitation. John moved his hands in the air, in order to hold himself on high of the bureau for journeys. John ordered a Space-Jump to earth, 100 years, economical social category. In Hamburg there would already be an enormous proletariat. The price category "King of Hamburg" was still free. A tired smile slid about the face of John. With an affirming thought jet he accepted her order. The nice employee returned surprisingly dear and personally: "Oh John, my dear, on the planet Earth you must have always the same name for 100 years, a first-name and a surname. Please look in this English book and take two words as your name. He read: "My name is John. I am a boy." He pointed to the words "John" and "I". So she wrote his new name for the next 100 years: "John I". Curious optical phenomena happened when the space-cruiser was exceeding "C". Behind them they saw the optical night and far before the shuttle he discovered strangely stars. The earth, the blue planet, the traditional vacation goal of the Xenianer, was under the travelers. "Office for Administrative Support of the City Hamburg", stood on a bronze sign of the office building. "It rang again!" The leader of the office took his telescope and regarded the ecological man, which built its heat castle with cardboards on a traffic island. "Let him to us in the corridor. He must out-sleep his intoxication by alcohol." Office man Michaelsen opened the Top Secret File. "It is still a delicate thought play, a feasibility study: Should I become King of Hamburg?" "There is our dirty favorite , a Mr. John I." Varying from one side to the other I stood with a cover in the light of the neon lamps. There it is, our charm City. The planning sand box showed the Hamburg City with a study of the port town center. Like the lines of a global coordinate system the transportation ways water, road and air spread out. The computing offices of this big City generated a virtual data network of the superlative: All over the world is Hamburg, where telephones and computers stand on the desks. There are people whose address was Ghana and they were member of... hamburg.de. Gigantic quality increases of the media and program products formed this increase community. "The people are angry and demands bread!" Arabella, a city acquaintance, came crying up the stairs with a transistor radio under her arm. A nurse with white cap and food for John I followed. "What have you made in your profession, Mr. I?" He had wiped the plates off for the Mogs. Tyranny must have now an end, integration instead of plotters. The secretary put a box Nivea-Cream on the table. "Who would like to cream itself to the King of Hamburg?" Earth was more narrowly than Planet Xenon Base, therefore Arian painted itself a thin film cream on the wound lips. "Attention, we have alert!" A macro tried to enter into the administrative computer. The officials turned their armchairs to the terminals and raised the anti-virus programs. John led the counter-strike in cyber-space and confused the opponent by complex, speedy function key combinations. Michaelsen, became successfully in the hacker manual: "We are with the people again at the negotiating table. All-Clear- Signal!" Dirty, homeless proletariat enters the Integration-center of Hamburg "and comes out as Kings again, congratulates to John I!" Over the bridges which crossed the river a 3-D-Light-Animation showed the sign for that Integration-center: "I".
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