Cyprus, our prized easternmost outpost, is bracing for invasion, and the governor needs reinforcements. We don’t take any chances with our valuables, so we’ve already hand-picked the very best man for the job: Othello, a Moorish general in our army.

 

Far be it from us to engage in idle gossip, of course—we leave such tawdry diversions to those poor souls who live in less enlightened cities—but we couldn’t help but hear that Othello eloped with a senator’s daughter earlier this evening. No matter; by an incredibly fortunate coincidence, we’re much too open-minded to object to mixed marriages—see how sophisticated and multicultural we are?—so there’s certainly no reason to inconvenience ourselves by, say, arresting Othello and settling for having someone else defend Cyprus. No, we’ll ship him off tonight—and we’ll even let his new bride go with him. (Because we’re just that magnanimous, obviously. Not because the scandal will die down faster if she’s not here.)

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Othello will need a trusty right-hand man by his side, so we’re also sending his longtime ensign, Iago. He’s 100% dependable, and absolutely devoted to Othello. (We do seem to recall a tiny bit of awkwardness a few months back, when Othello gave someone else a promotion that Iago wanted, but that won’t be a problem; Iago is much too professional to have taken it personally. He might have felt a fleeting twinge of disappointment—but we’re sure he’s over it by now. After all, no one in his right mind would obsess over something like that.)

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It's time to step outside the gilded city bounds and strike out into the

unknown. The stars are bright, the open seas are calling, and it’s all

smooth sailing from here. We're on top of the world. 

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What could possibly go wrong?