From "Memoir from the Southern Seas" by Françoise B. Pétain
Most visitors to Moskurg will agree that this place has a pathological affection to tigers. There are effigies and statues dedicated to their national symbol every second intersection; people uses the expression "As good as a tiger's butt" for pretty women, or "so bad that Tigers won't chew on" for bad - especially Astrotzkan - food.
But when asked on "what symbolizes their craze on Tigers", almost everyone will agree on the Sunday Procession as the definitive answer.
The Sunday Procession started as a change of honor guards, but subsequently developed into a show of force of the Moskurg military and El Presidente in handling tigers and thus Arstotzka alike. Like most military processions, it is comprised of soldiers marching at a deliberate slow pace, followed by line of armored vehicles and various artillery, but the most striking, and perhaps the most enthusiastically expected part, is the parade of tigers. Three tigers, sometimes four, sometimes six, are transported on the back of their namesake L-1 Tiger trucks, at the very end of the procession. Each tiger got his own truck, and is accompanied by a Tiger-handler.
Usually, and I can say in at least 9 out of 10 times, they are just doing tricks, like mock devouring their trainer's head, jumping, handwaving, or the occasional ball pass between two tigers, greeted by half-enthusiastic cheers from onlooking Moskurgans. However, occasionally, a tiger might jump off the truck and uses his mouth to grab a bystander by his back. If you happen to be on scene, you are lucky, and this is the main draw of the event. Despite the obvious hazard of sharp teeth, the bystander is almost never hurt, and is carried onto the truck. The handler and the tiger will then torture -for lack of a better word - the victim, until he admitted to a crime - usually petty smuggling of Arstotzkan products, eating Arstotzkan food, or reading Arstotzkan books, and then he will be summarily sentenced by something like having his arm or leg severed off by the Tiger. People cheered on as the offending body part was chewed on.
Two years ago, however, on one cloudy Sunday, the script was not followed upon. Four tigers were brought out, and was trailing on the back of the procession. As the Tigers passes by the Soviet Embassy, The tigers suddenly all jumped off and converged onto one particular bystander. He was immediately bitten by the tigers, to my horror, with blood and shred cloth thrown around the place; his carcass was opened, and his organs were lying around. I couldn't bear that, but it does not affect everyone else, as they cheered on, at an intensity unheard of even by Moskurgan standards. I feel so sick and hurried back to the safety of the El Grande Hotel; and as he drove back, my Chauffeur was already talking about the incident.
The newspaper next day said the victim was a Arstotzkan spy, who have just arrived the day before, intended to make drawings of the T-2 Breaker tank. The story ran with all kinds of supporting document and evidence, but I was never convinced. However, every Moskurgan buys into the official version of the story, and perhaps its better to be so.
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