Chapter 15: The Great Cucumber Festival Debacle

With the cucumber crisis behind them, Roy K declared it time to celebrate. What better way to honor the vegetable that saved his reputation than by organizing the National Cucumber Festival?

"This festival," Roy announced during a cabinet meeting, "will be remembered as Cahaya's greatest cultural achievement! Bigger than Independence Day, more thrilling than the National Mango Parade!"

Aziz sighed, already anticipating chaos. "Sir, we should start small. A one-day event, maybe just a farmers' market?"

Roy slammed his fist on the table. "Aziz! Cucumbers deserve grandeur! I'm talking parades, fireworks, a cucumber-eating contest, and, most importantly, a 60-foot inflatable cucumber with my face on it!"

Farah raised an eyebrow. "Your face, sir?"

"Yes!" Roy said, eyes sparkling. "People need to associate cucumbers with their beloved prime minister!"

Planning Madness

Preparations began immediately, with every ministry scrambling to fulfill Roy's grand vision. Farmers were asked to donate their biggest cucumbers, tailors were tasked with making cucumber-themed costumes, and the engineers at the Department of Infrastructure were given the dubious honor of designing the cucumber-shaped stage.

Pak Salim, the Minister of Communications, took charge of promotions. "We'll air commercials on TV, plaster posters across the nation, and launch a hashtag campaign: #CucumberPride!"

Meanwhile, Roy had his own priorities. He personally supervised the creation of the inflatable cucumber, insisting that it "capture his essence."

"Make sure the smile looks heroic," he told the artist. "Not creepy. Heroic."

A Thorny Issue

As the festival date approached, an unexpected crisis loomed. Aziz burst into Roy's office, looking flustered.

"Sir, we have a problem."

Roy, who was busy practicing his cucumber-themed speech, waved him off. "Aziz, relax! Everything is under control."

"No, sir," Aziz said, dropping a report on the desk. "There's a pickle shortage."

Roy blinked. "Pickles? Why does that matter? This is a cucumber festival, not a pickle party!"

Aziz groaned. "Pickles are cucumbers, sir. Vendors were planning to serve them at the festival, but now they're threatening to pull out."

Roy frowned. "Well, can't they just serve cucumbers raw? They're healthier that way!"

"Sir," Aziz said patiently, "not everyone loves raw cucumbers as much as you do. For some people, pickles are the main event."

Pickle Pandemonium

Soon, the pickle shortage turned into a full-blown protest. Vendors gathered outside the palace, holding signs that read, "No Pickles, No Festival!" and "Cucumber Justice for All!"

Roy decided to address the protesters directly. Standing on the palace steps, he raised his hands for silence.

"My fellow Cahaya citizens," he began, "I understand your passion for pickles. But let's not lose sight of the bigger picture—this festival is about celebrating cucumbers in all their forms, even raw and unpickled!"

His speech was met with silence, followed by a lone tomato hurled from the crowd.

Aziz leaned over. "Sir, I think you're losing them."

Roy panicked. "Fine! I'll get pickles! No matter what it takes!"

The Pickle Heist

Desperate to save the festival, Roy hatched a bold plan. "We'll import pickles from our neighboring country, Jerukland!"

Aziz looked doubtful. "Sir, Jerukland's government doesn't even like us. They're still mad about the mango trade dispute."

"Then we'll go undercover," Roy said, donning a ridiculous disguise: a floppy hat, sunglasses, and a trench coat.

Aziz sighed. "Sir, you look like a spy in a cartoon."

"Exactly! No one will suspect a thing."

Operation: Pickle Smuggle

Roy and Aziz flew to Jerukland under the guise of "pickle enthusiasts" attending a fictional International Pickle Symposium. Once there, they met with a local pickle magnate named Madam Salty.

"We need all the pickles you've got," Roy said, trying to sound inconspicuous.

Madam Salty narrowed her eyes. "Why should I sell my finest pickles to you foreigners?"

"Because," Roy said, thinking quickly, "Cahayans are known for their discerning pickle palate. Your pickles will become legendary in our country!"

Aziz cringed as Madam Salty considered this. Finally, she agreed—on the condition that Roy pay an exorbitant price.

"Deal!" Roy said, not bothering to check the treasury balance first.

The Festival Begins

On the day of the festival, trucks loaded with pickles arrived just in time. The crowd cheered as vendors reopened their stalls, offering everything from pickle popsicles to deep-fried pickles on a stick.

Roy took the stage for the opening ceremony, dressed in a shimmering green cape. The inflatable cucumber towered behind him, its heroic smile capturing the sunlight.

"My fellow citizens," Roy began, "today, we honor the humble cucumber—a vegetable of resilience, versatility, and, above all, deliciousness!"

The crowd roared with approval, and Roy basked in the applause.

A Minor Explosion

The festival was a resounding success—until the fireworks show.

Roy had insisted on cucumber-shaped fireworks, which turned out to be more flammable than anticipated. Midway through the display, a rogue spark set the inflatable cucumber ablaze.

"Aziz!" Roy shouted as the crowd screamed. "Save my inflatable face!"

Aziz sighed, grabbing a nearby fire extinguisher. "I told you this would happen, sir."

Lessons Learned

Despite the fiery mishap, the festival ended on a high note. Social media was flooded with pictures and videos of the event, and Roy's approval ratings soared once again.

Aziz, however, was less impressed. "Sir, you spent millions on imported pickles and nearly burned down the festival grounds. Are you ever going to stop making reckless decisions?"

Roy grinned. "Aziz, if I stopped, I wouldn't be me. Now pass me a pickle—I earned it."

Meowster, wearing his tiny green hat, meowed in agreement, and the Prime Minister of Cahaya celebrated yet another chaotic, improbable victory.

End of Chapter 15