"Welcome, Citizens. Today we face a tragedy. The wasteland savages have just ruthlessly killed our men on a peace mission. We will send our full extent of the military after these beasts. Remember, you must try your best to assist us in our noble cause." The Consul said zealously high above the crowd, projected in his tower on a giant screen.
"We are currently asking you, the loyal citizens of this city, to serve in your army. It is your duty. You may take your leave, but know that a draft is soon to come."
The crowd dispersed.
The Consul knew from the start this speech was going to be a slew of lies. He knew it, and he was happy about it. The populus couldn't take the truth. He considered it a form of protection.
"Sir?" A waiter asked at The Consul's side.
"Yes?"
"Your drink's ready." He responded.
The Consul took the cocktail and sipped.
He was the only one with this kind of luxury.
He looked out the window of his titanic tower.
The 'Peace mission' was an underhanded tactic to eliminate his foes. The 'savages' were rebels about to bust his door down.
...And the draft had already started.