Shwellington is a substate of the country of Funk. It was created on November 7th, 1978 on what used to be a farmer (who died of natural causes.). Not much is known about Shwellington, except that in the three days that it wasn't being sucked into a black hole, it was ineffably awesome.
The Birth of a Superpower
The framer of Funk and its three substates (two of which have been proved impossible to ever have existed) was, quite suitably, Nick Frame, who was less than five hours old at the time, and a really annoying baby. Shwellington was established in northern Britain, and started out with seven and a half square feet, several thousand midget-residents, and a ficus. However, as fungi started to decompose the state's mainland, the square footage decreased by an not-so-alarming five thousandths of a square inch every second, compressing the impossibly held volume further still.
Its government consisted of a hybrid between democracy and firmly embedded theocracy, the formula of which is found best suited to running large states or countries. In fact, Shwellington is known by many historians for having the greatest-planned government, well suited for its super-advanced civilization. Voting procedures go exactly like this:
- There is a ficus.
- First, throw a party and get everyone drunk.
- First person to the ficus is president, Booyah!
- If anyone is still coherent, stone Nick Frame
There are only two duties of the president, making it the absolute easiest title to hold of any leader on the face of the Earth. The first duty is to pick your vice-president and treasurer, while the second is to position the ficus for the next voting procedure. The only president ever decided for Shwellington was King George IV (Pronounced: Kin-gee Yor-hey Ivv). However, all the real jobs of running the state are given to the treasurer. These jobs include:
- De-batting (pesky buggers)
- Stoning Nick Frame
- Imitating Stephen Lynch's "Special Fred" song
- Getting funky
- Impressing the babes
- Deciding the judicial system and legislating laws and all that other boring stuff
Shwellington's leisure facilities consisted of mainly the ficus, watching the rate of decomposition seal everyone's fate for eternity, and nonstop partying with beer-bongs, strippers, and cigarette-ettes for the kids, of which population consisted only of the framer, Nick Frame. Use of the nasal passages of the farmer as a swimming pool is strictly forbidden, and will result in the immediate stoning of Nick Frame.
Consisting of only those who are at least 500% more advanced than the rest of the human race, traditional views of "God" or "Allah" or even the idea of many hundreds of gods have been disposed of in Shwellington. Instead, the root of religion is, of course, the decomposing farmer that the state was established on. Whenever a jet of gas is released from any orifice on the farmer, it becomes time to party. This religion is called Necropartism and has been abolished in many cultures, including, but not limited to:
The Life of a Superpower
Shwellington existed and partied for three days straight before its constant compression forced its inhabitants into a cubic nanometer with approximately one bajillion pounds of pressure, efficiently converting the state into a black hole, sucking itself and Funk up and transferring both the the universe of Whatever The Fuck Goes On Inside Carrot Top's Head.
Day the First (Day of the Funk-style Gathering)
The first day of Shwellington's existence was one that perched itself precariously on the edge of history's needle-sharp point as someone embroidered a small dog into the lapel of a shirt made out of the fabric of the universe itself. It was a day to put Shwellington into operating status: the government and religion were carefully thought up in intense coo-sessions between Nick Frame and the ficus, and at the same time, 150,000 midgets entered the shed and were so absorbed by the cute little baby that they all sat around him on top of the dead farmer. Nick Frame told them all stories of how he wrestled with siberian tigers to get to the shed, what it feels like to be born, how he persuaded an army of trees to move what was supposed a transmission mast for a local British broadcasting station from in front of the shack, and how they should run a country. Coincidentally, every midget and even the Frame-baby himself were all citizens of Funk, which was created only two days before, and beared the signs of their habitation with the necessary three-foot-tall white-boy afro. The lot of them then decided to create Shwellington on the farmer, in honor of Midget #93,845's father, Edward Shwell Ing Ton, who was half Korean. To sleep, one half of the midgets climbed on top of the other midgets and slept on the great bed made from the 75,000 afros. The midgets then alternated positions, the awake ones in a nonstop state of party, which caused trouble upstairs.
Day the Second (Day of the Par-tay and Incoherent Mumbling)
Shwellington's second day could be summed up in five words or fifteen letters: Bill Cosby and a DJ.