The #1171 Weekly Gazette
Sunday Edition, August 30, 2026. Printed after the new King asked whether vegetation could be banned and the vegetation retained counsel.
Front Page
HUN Takes Castle; King Mother Clucker Declares War On Resource Nodes
Readers may notice that the front-page picture contains very little Castle and an unusual amount of royal thigh. The Gazette's entire visual budget had already been spent on an earlier Page 3 sitting with ScreamingChicken. One unused plate remained in the drawer. It has now been relabelled Official State Portrait and charged to War Reporting. The Treasury calls this reuse. The photographer calls it a second invoice.
HUN won the Castle fight. This sentence has been placed first because what followed was so thoroughly #1171 that the military result was in danger of becoming a footnote to municipal landscaping.
The fight itself was real and contested. HUN defended the centre, exchanged turrets, filled garrisons and watched opposing rallies arrive close enough together to make the healing queue develop political opinions. WildBlueberry later described "some nice back and forth on the West Turret," which is the soldierly way of saying an entire afternoon was spent repeatedly evicting the same neighbours from a very tall building.
When it ended, the public square filled with congratulations. UNF applauded. MMA applauded. T4RK announced the arrival of the new King in French, proving that monarchy remains the only form of government that can complete its translation after the result.
ScreamingChicken thanked the kingdom:
"Thanks all for a fun battle!!!"
Then Lord Jalal supplied the official result:
"Well done Everyone, that was great fight Congrats HUN Congrats king ScreamingChicken"
There it was. HUN had the Castle. ScreamingChicken had the crown. The Gazette had begun setting type for a sober account of victory when the new reign revealed its first governing priority:
"As king can I ban stupid rss nodes taking our spots"
Every monarch is ultimately remembered for one cause. Some reform the courts. Some conquer new territory. King Mother Clucker has chosen the small patch of timber that appears exactly where a governor meant to stand.
This was not a sudden prejudice. The King testified that a resource node had occupied the royal spot during at least three or four consecutive Castle fights. The Planning Desk has examined the evidence and believes the node may be operating under an ancient charter, a clerical error or the confidence that comes from knowing nobody wants to spend stamina on a shrub during a siege.
The proposed ban immediately split the realm. Farmers warned of winter. Architects supported a setback requirement. One courtier suggested moving the node. The node declined, produced six units of lumber and was promoted to Acting Leader of the Opposition.
Internal festivities then accelerated. WildBlueberry proclaimed "King Mother Clucker." Attila preferred "king chicken." Legion greeted the crown, observed the new sovereign giving advice and admitted having expected a bad King. This is the closest thing #1171 permits to a constitutional endorsement.
Minutes later, Legion discovered the throne empty and demanded answers:
"Where is this ruler who ignores his people? He took the throne and ran away!"
The Gazette understands that the King had duties, rewards and possibly an urgent appointment with the resource-node register. No abdication occurred. No republic was formed. The crown remained in HUN long enough for the court to begin jumping on its owner and calling the result participatory government.
The reign finally issued its ceremonial doctrine:
"God save the king or whatever the Brit's say😂😂😂"
The British Desk confirms this is nearly correct. The Castle Desk confirms HUN won. The Agricultural Desk confirms every resource node in the kingdom has now moved two squares closer to the palace out of spite.
Page 3
First-time applicant. HoT passport verified. The Decency Desk has requested the check-out key and been told to open wider.
Jessy Bear Locks Page 3; HUN Visitors Discover Key Is Part Of Outfit
Page 3 has crossed alliance lines. The first HoT applicant arrived with an open invitation, a closed exit and a profile avatar that has caused the Animal Registry to reopen the oldest question in local government: why is Jessy Bear represented by a brown dog?
The Registry received no answer. It did receive a key, although the key was between the applicant's teeth and attached to a lock the size of a Castle gate. Proceedings became informal.
The candidacy began when Legion missed Bear Trap and asked World Chat whether another alliance had one available. Jessy supplied HoT's time, admitted the visitor and soon announced:
"Yay poaching friends from HUN 🎉🎉🎉"
This could have remained ordinary recruiting satire. Then Legion worried about being locked out on the next visit. Jessy corrected the preposition:
"you’ll be locked in me an franky are making some heavy duty locks to keep you here !"
Page 3 immediately commissioned the lock.
The official plate preserves the current avatar as a brown-dog masquerade with floppy ears, warm eyes and the red collar motif, worn by a clearly adult human fantasy host. The rest of the uniform consists of turquoise satin, gold keywork, patterned stockings, long gloves and enough locksmithing equipment to make departure a theoretical concept.
Jessy lounges sideways across the enormous brass padlock, looking back over one shoulder while holding the only visible check-out key between the teeth. A second ring of keys hangs from one hand. None is labelled. HoT calls this guest retention. HUN calls it Thursday.
The pose is bright, adult, camp and non-explicit. It is also the first Page 3 portrait in recent memory to contain neither a throne nor a warrior staring straight at the reader as if muscles were a form of municipal tax. The Lock Office welcomes this development and has asked the model to stop sitting on its entire inventory.
There were earlier warnings. During All Out, Jessy publicly admitted "I broke the rules already" and later announced "I have spy’s everywhere." Hours after that, the same governor was mediating an attack dispute, requesting reports and reminding everyone that two wrongs do not make a right. This is not inconsistency. It is the complete HoT hospitality package: break one rule, monitor all rooms, settle the complaint and keep the guests.
The Decency Desk attempted to confiscate the key. Jessy bit down. It attempted to inspect the lock. The lock clicked. It attempted to leave and discovered that Franky had apparently finished the heavy-duty work ahead of schedule.
Jessy Bear therefore becomes Page 3's first Official Lockmistress, first HoT centerfold and first dog called Bear to turn a missed Bear Trap into a border policy. HUN visitors are welcome back Thursday. Check-out remains an unverified game feature.
War And Government
Seven-Line All Out Constitution Produces Eight Appeals Before Breakfast
All Out arrived with the liberating promise that everyone could attack everyone, followed immediately by a notice explaining the many places, positions, quantities and circumstances in which everyone absolutely could not.
The public constitution was admirably brief. Bubble if uncertain. Hit a town no more than three times. Alliance territory is safe. A town must be entirely inside that territory to qualify. Resource tiles outside are fair game. Attackers must leave the hive. Misclicks go to R4 or R5; retaliation does not.
Seven rules. One event. Enough boundary law to employ every scribe between the Castle and the nearest badly parked resource node.
The first constitutional crisis concerned attacks launched from inside a hive. Rev filed the opposition's opening speech:
"We leave to attack? Seems that only works for some. I love All Out and the rules for thee and not for me"
The prosecution then produced reports. The defence produced context. Someone produced a second attack. Jessy offered the realm's most mature ruling: send the reports, the officers would sort it out, and two wrongs do not make a right. This was accepted by every party except the exciting part of every party.
Rev requested that another alliance "Get your house in order." The Housing Desk attempted to comply but could not determine whether a house touching the territory line with one corner was safe, unsafe or merely in need of a better surveyor.
The following Castle fight supplied a practical exam. One governor selected the wrong target. The target replied:
"then attack the tower and not me"
An apology followed. No international tribunal was required. This sensible outcome has been sealed and hidden because it sets a dangerous precedent for settling World Chat disputes in fewer than forty messages.
The All Out constitution remains in force. Readers are advised to place the whole town inside the line, the whole attacker outside the hive, the whole report inside an officer's inbox and the whole finger somewhere other than the wrong castle.
Sport
Blizzard Brawl Solved: Save Bombs, Freeze Whale, Pretend This Is Sport
Blizzard Brawl has been presented as a contest of movement, buildings, loot and battlefield judgment. World Chat has now published the shorter rulebook: avoid the middle, collect explosives and ambush the largest marine mammal in the final minute.
Pepperidge farm issued the public four-step plan. First, seize one of the three side buildings from a weaker opponent and hold it for ten seconds to collect 2,000 points. Second, loot air drops and save every bomb. Third, briefly own all three side buildings. Fourth, wait until roughly one minute remains, teleport to the centre, unload the bombs on the whale, freeze it and send every march in for 7,000 points.
This is not a battle plan. It is an insurance fraud staged on an ice floe.
Gara later endorsed the method and recommended four or five rockets against the centre. The Sports Desk asked whether this quantity might be excessive. The centre replied through a smoking crater that the question had arrived late.
Not every match contained a whale. Gara reported the good fortune of playing two without one. This has been classified as a protected wildlife sighting in reverse: the absence of a giant creature dramatically improved local morale.
The event still demanded repetition. Samantha reported four more runs to complete and called the Brawl tedious. A Gazette timekeeper multiplied the attempts by matchmaking, loading, looting and the final ceremonial bombing. The timekeeper has since joined the whale and refuses to come ashore.
Until the rules change, the official advice is simple. Take the sides. Hoard the bombs. Watch the clock. When one minute remains, approach the whale with the calm professionalism of a governor who has somehow been placed in charge of both fisheries and artillery.
Arts And Planning
Nuggy Rebuilds Island In Eight Hours; Letter K Summoned Before Planning Board
Big Chicky Nuggy announced that the island would be finished, ordered the public not to look during construction and disappeared behind the hedges. Eight hours later, the entire island had been removed, rebuilt and presented for the kind of community consultation that begins after all permanent decisions have already been made.
The motive was civic shame:
"got tired of being called out for having a crap island..."
This is the most effective planning policy yet discovered. Grants take months. Permits take weeks. Embarrassment cleared and rebuilt the waterfront before breakfast.
The new paths attempted to spell CHIKY. Witnesses approved the general layout but disputed the K. Attila thought it resembled an H. Another observer noted a missing C before the K, which would have produced CHICKY and required either more land or the annexation of a neighbour's decorative pond.
Nuggy explained that the K had been the hardest letter. This statement has been entered into the minutes as expert testimony. The Planning Board has always suspected consonants but lacked a witness willing to name one.
The island also contained circular dirt paths intended to resemble chicken nuggets. Nuggy asked whether anyone could see them. Attila could not. Their location was explained. Attila then saw them, which the Tourism Desk has recorded as a successful guided nugget experience.
ScreamingChicken admitted attempting to spell HUN on another island and said the result looked awful. This establishes a regional crisis. #1171 possesses enough military force to occupy a Castle, but its landscape architects remain one capital N away from collapse.
The new island received hearts, compliments and a later public commendation. Nuggy answered that "The shame i felt made me do it..." The Gazette therefore awards the project full marks for redevelopment, partial marks for typography and one emergency sign reading: THE NUGGETS ARE BY THE CIRCULAR PATHS.
Gazette Verdict
#1171 spent the week winning a Castle, writing an All Out constitution, bombing whales, exchanging tourists under lock and converting eight hours of landscaping into a disputed consonant.
HUN received the crown. A resource node received an opposition portfolio. HoT received visitors and immediately priced locks. Blizzard Brawl received a four-step strategy that would concern both the navy and animal welfare. Nuggy's island received a heart after the public was shown where the nuggets were.
The kingdom is ready for KvK. It is less ready for typography, parking or an unannounced visit from the Fisheries Desk.
Quote Of The Week
"As king can I ban stupid rss nodes taking our spots😂"
ScreamingChicken receives Quote of the Week for moving from battlefield victory to a highly specific planning grievance before the crown had reached room temperature. This is leadership in its purest form: win the Castle, identify the shrub, legislate.
Footnotes From The Red Dot Desk
The Desk confirms that the All Out border remains exactly where it was, except when viewed from the other side. No whale was harmed until the final minute. HoT's gate can still be opened from outside. The Page 3 key has declined further comment.
This publication is an independent fan-made satire project and is not affiliated with Kingshot or its developers.