The regular verbal acrobatics won't cut it anymore. Time to pull out the big guns -- Diplomatic Privileges.

The regular verbal acrobatics won't cut it anymore. Time to pull out the big guns -- Diplomatic Privileges.

They'll be cleaning this mess up for days. No sleep. They'll order pizzas in. Diplomat down.

Out of the way, the minister is expecting me!

Lesser diplomats flatten their backs to the wall as you stagger through, dripping blood onto cream consulate carpet.

Not enough slots.

Nah, no one's going to buy it.

The phones curl back into their cradles. False alarm.

Wait, have I got those?

Absolutely. As long as nobody actually checks.

Tell me more of these privileges.

Ease of access where others find only obstacles. Better treatment by the functionaries of power. Stature, unchallenged.

Who will actually buy this?

Your privileges work best on those who quiver before the altar of officialdom, as well as those easily impressed by unusual stamps.

At this very moment, phones are ringing off their hooks from Novessa to Capoblanco. High-tier bureaucrats are speaking of the 'incident' in hushed tones as they pace marble corridors. The upper echelons are being apprised.

CLAIMS THAT THE PARTY'S REPRESENTATIVE DOVE INTO THE BULLET ARE NOTHING BUT RIGHT-WING MISINFORMATION.

They're so excited they're about to explode in their grey trousers.

I feel it, my bureaucratic power levels are rising.

Nice, about time. (Whistle.)

Incidents like this are rare and seismic. No one likes to ask questions of diplomats wounded on foreign soil.

Concerning reports on the wire from Portofiro: They're saying a member of an unspecified intelligence service has just been shot in public. They're saying this could be an international incident.