27 Mr White and the RAZERs

27 Mr White and the RAZERs Mrs M started collecting up the empty mugs. 'When Mr White first arrived all those years ago, he promised that he would make our fabulous city even better than it already was. She laughed in that way that people do when they don't find something funny. 'He told us that if we voted him into power, he would make sure that everyone in Chroma would get the chance to fulfil their creative potential.' She started loading the tray. ' The Rainbow Lake would be colour-corrected twice a week, the Cloud Quarter would be fully solar-powered within a year, and stunning new art galleries would be opened within a decade. The list of promises he made us was endless.'

She took Peanut's mug from her. 'He was also full of warnings about some kind of pollution that was blighting your world, and how, if we weren't careful, it would soon spread to Chroma. He said he knew how to prevent that from happening and if he was elected he would stop it in its tracks. She'd stopped collecting the mugs and sat down, staring into the fireplace. ' And do you know what the worst part of this whole sorry affair is?' The children shook their heads. 'We believed him.' Her eyes shone in the flickering light. 'We should have known straight away that he wouldn't be true to his word. The day after he was elected, he ordered his RAZERs to remove all of the graffiti on Main Street, Warholia.' She looked down and shook her head. All that beautiful work. Whitewashed. 'Er, Mrs M. Sorry to ask, but what is a RAZER?' asked Peanut. 'R, A, Z, E, R. Rigorous Attitude Zero Empathy Robot. That should tell you all you need to know. He had them designed and built, and now has hundreds doing his bidding. ' Yuck. They sound horrid,' said Little-Bit. Doodle barked his agreement. 'Finally, after three years of chipping away at everything we held dear, he passed a law making all artistic apparatus illegal. Pens, pencils, pastels, crayons, paintbrushes, everything.

Forbidden. Imagine that. It was all confiscated and impounded. Well, almost all of it.' She pointed to the pencils in her hair bun. 'I managed to smuggle these two out when we made our escape underground. They have proved invaluable to our cause over the years. 'The last straw was when, five years into his mayorship, he painted our beloved Spire white and turned it into a prison. That's when we realised that he wouldn't rest until he had completely destroyed everything that has made this city so great. She pulled one of the pencils from her bun, grabbed the map and underlined two words in the title. COLOUR & CREATIVITY