GLABZORG, Freedonia. The rush of nations to join NATO in response to Russia’s aggression against Ukraine continues, with Bosnia-Herzegovina, Georgia, Finland and Sweden all lining up to fill out the complicated five-page application and pay the $100 filing fee. “It is good thing, NATO,” said Izotbegevic Tarilaj, coach of Bosnia-Herzegovina’s award-winning synchronized swimming team. “You get coffee mug, mouse pad, also $5 off cool fleece pullover with mail-in rebate.”
But one country is still on the outside looking in; Freedonia, the fictional European nation formed after World War I from abandoned drive-in theatres, time-shares in Baltic Sea resorts, and returned Hammacher-Schlemmer do-it-yourself backyard ice rinks. “What have we done to deserve this snub?” asks Provincial Prothonotary Cleixak Mruvnuk, a self-employed locksmith who has been pushing Freedonia to join NATO, the United Nations, or the International House of Pancakes in order to boost his homeland’s reputation. “We are the most powerful fictional country in the world, they will regret ‘dissing’ us like this.”
The acronym “NATO” stands for “North Atlantic Treaty Organization,” an intergovernmental military alliance whose member states agree to defend each other from attacks by third parties. “NATO has worked well,” says Under-Supreme Allied Commander Mike Krollnecht. “If we let every Tom, Dick and Harry country in, the lines will be too long at the monthly buffet luncheons.”
NATO has stood its ground, saying applicants must be recommended by two current members and obtain references from at least eight countries with whom they have played “friendly” croquet matches. “That should keep them busy for a decade or two,” says NATO Social Secretary Evelyn de Borchgrave. “I can’t imagine anyone wanting to step up to the plate for a country that sent a goat to the Miss Universe contest a few years ago.”
“So we eat standing up–like horses?”
Applicants are also advised to invite ambassadors from current member nations over for “cocktails” and “hors d’oeuvres” where they can be assessed for social miscues and embarrassing personal habits. “We are an isolated nation and do not know many of the rules that you Westerners learn in fourth-grade dancing classes,” says Zerblotk Numios-Jergenz, the current Quartermaster General of the Freedonian Dirigible Corps. “Why did no one warn me that playing ‘pocket pool’ with one’s testicles is frowned upon when conversing with a lady?”