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Utopian Land

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It was a few weeks later now. Petra, Måns and Frans were sitting in a room in the backstage of the Globen. They were supposed to be planning how the upcoming Eurovision Song Contest would go, but their minds were elsewhere. Outside on the streets, soldiers from both America and Norway walked, making sure that no one unauthorised was breaking the curfew that had been set by the American government.
Frans entered some numbers on his calculator. If Swedes were the Americans' property, then how many Swedes did each American own? He had a book out in front of him to find out the population of each country, usually he would have just googled it but the American government had blocked nearly all internet access in Sweden virtually overnight.
'Population of the USA: 318.9 million'
'Population of Sweden: 9.593 million'
Dividing the two numbers by each other gave the answer 33. 33 Swedes. Each American now owned 33 Swedes.
It took Måns a few seconds of looking at both the book and the calculator to figure out what Frans was working out.
"Woah that's... that's quite some... uh... interesting maths there buddy. That's pretty dark, heh heh," Måns let out an awkward laugh.
"Y-yeah," Frans replied, "I'm not quite sure how Norway comes into this, though."
"I'm not too sure either," Måns said, "I always thought that Norway were our friends."
"I'm sure the ordinary people of Norway don't agree with this," Petra said, "I'm sure they don't. Do they?"
Silence descended on the room. Norway had so eagerly joined in with America in the subjugation of Sweden. Maybe the Norwegians were just so worried about being attacked by America themselves that they felt they had to, maybe they had other motives. One thing was for sure though, no one was standing up for Sweden or the Swedish people. Swedes were on their own.
"M-maybe it'll all turn out fine," Måns tried to reassure himself, "M-maybe... maybe things won't be so bad after all."
"Måns, they called us property, they own us like they own a car," Petra said, "This is not going to be fine."
"They say it's our fault," Frans said, "The American soldiers here say it's our fault, because of what Sweden did."
"No, no, it's not our fault," Måns said, "Ok sure, we did bad things, we should have paid the money back... we shouldn't have sold America's secrets... but... that was all the government's fault, not ours! What does the ordinary Swedish person have to do with that? Nothing, that's what! We are innocent. No, not our government, but us, the ordinary citizens of Sweden, we are-"
He trailed off. It didn't matter how much he protested in a room full of other Swedish people who agreed with him, it wouldn't matter if he protested against the American or Norwegian governments either. He knew the reality. No one outside of Sweden cared enough to help them, no one would be brave enough to stand up to America. Måns sighed. The Eurovision Song Contest was going to be in just a few days, and it was going to be hosted in Sweden. He had thought that the EBU would move it somewhere else after the invasion, but no, it was going to stay in Sweden. Petra and Måns were sure that the American government would use this show to make an example of Sweden, to show all the other countries of the world what would happen if they ever did anything bad to America. They just hoped that nothing bad would happen during the contest.