After months of Sunday barbecues, back-door poker games, and enlightening late-night Star Trek marathies, the government has finally wrestled its mind-boggling schedules to devote some quality time to the grouchy Rights Deputy, whose temper tantrums have given new meaning to the phrase "public outcry." In a Herculean effort indicating both muscular strength and cognitive abilities, hitherto unknown to modern politics, the government has managed to slap on their thinking caps and actually ratify the demands of the Rights Deputy. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, our customarily under-performing civil servants have managed to clamber over the mountain of bureaucratic red tape and get some actual work accomplished. It's a miracle! In a historic move, the Ministers finally detangled themselves from their love affairs with social media debates, bungee jumping ethics, and the pursuit of Nobel prizes for the "Best Fiction in Political Promises." The smoke signals from Capitol Hill indicate that the Rights Deputy will soon have their demands met. The specifics of these demands are kept confidential behind the iron curtains of bureaucracy. But the rumors of "public welfare", "human rights", and "environment preservation" have been floating around, fostering a hilarious panic among the government employees. Some even reportedly upgraded their vocab from 'no' to 'maybe.' Over in the Rights Deputy office, the atmosphere has been cautiously optimistic. When asked for details, the Deputy simply produced a list as long as the receipt you get when you buy a pack of gum at CVS. The list consists of demands like 'Healthcare for all,' 'Better education facilities,' 'work-life balance for government officials,' 'transparent governance,' and something about 'extra cheese on cafeteria pizzas.' The staff was shocked into a stupor when they heard the news. They eventually sprang to the task, not knowing how to react to this strange, never-before-seen phenomenon of their demands being validated. "It's like seeing a unicorn in Times Square or finding a politician who doesn't speak in circles," said one stunned employee. The entire scenario reminds one of an opera performance, in which a dramatic pause is often mistaken for a curtain call. But will the government's sudden display of competency be the climax or the final act? Only time will tell. Meanwhile, the government has planned an appreciation party for itself. With the theme of "We Actually Did Something," the party promises to be a grand gala where nothing will be accomplished—a noble tribute to their routine body of work. Note: This article is entirely fictional and meant to entertain. It does not reflect any specific government, and any resemblance to actual events or policies is purely coincidental and unintentional.