Characters:
Great Britain — population approximately 51 million, nuclear state. Iceland — population approximately 300,000, no army. NATO — an alliance of which both Britain and Iceland are members. Other Countries — USSR, the Federal Republic of Germany, the USA, and others.
Note: “Thou” is an archaic form of “you” used when addressing a social inferior.
ACT ONE. 1958.
Iceland. I need cod.
Other Countries. You have 4 miles around your… shitty little island, so fish there.
Iceland. I need more cod.
(Iceland declares that it now claims exclusive maritime territory extending 12 miles around the island.)
Other Countries (in chorus). Holy shit!
Iceland (tenderly). Codfish, my little codfish, my beloved codfish…
Britain. Hey, thou—
Iceland (correcting). You. With respect.
Britain. Hey, you. I’ve been fishing in your waters, and I intend to keep doing so. Are we clear?
Iceland. Get the fuck out, or I will put a cannonball through your hull.
Britain (shocked). I beg your pardon?!
Iceland. Get the fuck out, or I won’t be held responsible for what happens next.
Britain. I have nuclear weapons.
Iceland. You’re welcome to miss.
Britain. I have a navy.
Iceland. Soon you’ll be speaking of your navy fondly, in the past tense.
Britain. Your entire population is smaller than my naval complement!
Iceland. That’s perfectly fine. The cod will grow fat on English flesh.
Britain. Hey, thou—
(British fishermen continue catching cod in Icelandic waters.)
Iceland (seething). I am going to rip your fucking head off.
(The Icelandic Coast Guard surrounds British vessels and cuts their trawl lines.)
Britain (choking on its tea). You’re absolutely fucking nuts!
Iceland (with satisfaction). Oh, at last. Britain addresses Iceland with a modicum of respect.
Britain. I need codfish!
Iceland. No. Iceland and the Soviet Union need cod. Speaking of which — hey, Soviets, fancy some fish?
USSR (from a distance). Fish? The Soviets would very much like fish!
Britain. What the actual fuck…
(Britain withdraws its fishermen and formally recognizes Iceland’s rights to the 12-mile zone.)
ACT TWO. 1972.
Iceland. I need cod.
Britain. Again?!
Iceland. I need it. I need more cod.
(Iceland declares its exclusive zone now extends 50 miles around the island.)
Other Countries (in chorus). Are you fucking nuts?!
Iceland (correcting). Respectfully — and it’s “you”!
Britain. I am thoroughly sick of you, you little bastard.
Germany. Likewise. And I rather fancy some codfish myself.
(Britain and Germany resume fishing in Icelandic waters, accompanied by naval frigates.)
Iceland (pensively). I am going to rip both your heads off.
(The Icelandic Coast Guard attempts to cut the British trawl lines but is met with warning shots from the Royal Navy.)
Iceland (mournfully). If I can’t rip your heads off myself, I know someone who might…
(picks up the phone)
Hello, is this the United States? It’s Iceland calling. No, not Ireland — Iceland. They’re different countries. Look, I am going to rip your head off. What? No, not yours. Not yet, anyway. You still have a military base here, don’t you? What do you mean it’s still there? We’ll have it torn down. Because we’re being humiliated out here, and your base is dead weight. We’ll put up a different kind of base — a red one. With a bear, a big red button, and Russians. What do you mean, “don’t”? Oh, so now you want to “resolve the situation”? Fine. Make it quick. Ciao.
(hangs up)
USSR. Did someone call for me?
Iceland. No. You’re hearing things.
USSR. Is there any more cod, by any chance?
Iceland. No. It drowned.
USSR. What a pity.
USA. Hey — whoever is currently in Icelandic waters!
Britain and Germany (in chorus). What?
USA. Would you kindly get the fuck out of there.
Britain. But the cod—
USA. Cod gives me heartburn.
Britain (defeated). Fuck…
(Britain and Germany withdraw from Icelandic waters.)
Iceland (calling after them). Come back, and I’ll fuck you up properly next time.
ACT THREE. 1975.
Iceland. I need cod.
Britain and Germany (glancing around, whispering). Oh, fuck off.
Iceland. I! Need! Cod!
(Iceland declares exclusive rights over waters extending 200 miles around the island.)
Other Countries. Iceland, thou — sorry, I mean you, of course, with the utmost respect—
Iceland (interrupting). Don’t forget you both still owe me from last time.
Germany (grimly). Fuck off.
Britain. Watch and learn, the lot of you.
(Britain reintroduces a naval escort for fishermen in Icelandic waters.)
Iceland (taking stock). I have seven ships. Britain has roughly a hundred.
(rubbing hands together)
This will be a glorious victory in honor of our Viking forebears!
Germany (whispering). Iceland has lost its mind. Someone call a doctor.
Iceland. Release the Coast Guard! Lock and load!
(The aging frigate Þór labors out of the bay, cuts across the path of three British warships, and engages them in battle.)
Other Countries (in chorus). Iceland is absolutely fucking nuts!
Iceland (with maniacal laughter). The halls of Valhalla await us, where we shall feast for eternity beside great Óðinn at the long table!
Other Countries (whispering). Jesus fucking Christ.
(Icelandic and British ships chase each other across the open sea, exchanging gunfire.)
USA. What in the absolute fuck is happening. You two—
Iceland (not listening). Fight back, you English rats! Your place is in cold Niflheim, under the heel of great Hel! Behold the raven banner! Þór is with us!
USA (in panic). You are both NATO members!
Iceland (without looking up). Not anymore.
USA (in existential horror). What do you mean, not anymore?!
Iceland. We will not fight side by side with cowardly English rats. We are withdrawing from NATO.
Other Countries (in chorus). What the fuck!
USA (pale). But you host the only NATO base in the entire northern seas!
USSR (edging closer). I would very much like to hear more about this…
USA. Oh, fucking hell! Britain! A word!
Britain (reluctantly). Oh, for the love of — what now?!
USA. Get. Out. Of there.
Britain. It’s a matter of principle!
USA. Fuck your principle!
Iceland. And fuck off, USA — I had dibs on her first!
USA. You are genuinely deranged!
Iceland (waving a codfish). You know, bears are extraordinarily fond of raw fish. Historical fact.
USSR. Fish?! Where?!
USA. Britain! Did you not hear me?!
Britain (crestfallen). What in the actual hell is my life…
(Britain recalls its ships and, in line with all other European nations, formally recognizes Iceland’s right to a 200-mile exclusive economic zone.)
Iceland (wistfully). Great Óðinn has been denied his sacrifice… and the fun ends so terribly soon…
(notices Eyjafjallajökull in the distance)
Although, perhaps there’s still something that could be done …
All the Countries of the World (in chorus). Oh, for FUCK’S SAKE.
Curtain falls.
Expansion of the Icelandic exclusive economic zone.
Iceland
Inland waters
4-mile zone
12-mile zone
50-mile zone
200-mile zone (existing)
Original taken from nicshe2003 http://nicshe2003.livejournal.com/925225.html