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In England, whisky is served from a pitch-black canteen to everyone that wants it. Satan comes riding boastfully in a death-grey limousine. Along the streets, the crowds applaud him, those who serve him in everything. Then he is seen in the house of commentary and then again in Buckingham palace. He takes an ointment made of lanolin to the queen. The sheep-wool farming is then seriously adjusted. Through farming costs, cotton also becomes a has-been. Nylon comes in as crimplene again.    

Anxiously the West calls: We are sitting without gas, therefore perhaps help us with a bit of paraffin. But with crude oil now only a big ‘perhaps’. Someone answers, take up the harness strap again and let the pack animal serve man again. In London an illegal immigrant’s raw-boned black child is standing. In a famine that now does not spare anything or anyone anymore. In Europe, evil festers can now be seen everywhere on human bodies. In overfilled hospitals, patients cry in pain for a little morphine. The masses weep, oh what have we done to deserve all of this? But from a grey limousine, Satan joyfully calls to the crowd: All you fools, just keep on serving me faithfully.