They had been saving it for a long time. The Gender, that is. It needn't be capitalized, however. The gender. That's better. An air of casualness to it. Because it's got to be casual from now on. It better be.
An abandoned bus stop, 1953. That's where it all started. Maybe it was the combination of sour fruit with just the right amount of pep on that cold Sunday morning. Maybe it was divine providence. Or maybe it was something more. Let's just say that a certain corrugated cardboard box just "happened" to land at the feet of that old, weary Eskimo. And let's just say he just "happened" (not a coincidence, OF COURSE) to put it on his head. Let's just say that's how the new gender was born.
To say that the new gender consisted simply of Eskimos wearing cardboard boxes on their heads would be an obscene simplification. There was something more to it. Something almost mythical. At any rate, as soon as the boys at the government had gotten wind of "le nouveau gender" (as the fashionably French people had gotten around to calling it), all hell broke loose. Vigilant Gender Squads patrolled the streets, neutralizing the gender-unbalanced. That, however, was before the good ol' governmen realized the usefulness, nay, the sheer POWER, an extra gender could lend a nation like... well, it's best that the nation's name not be disclosed at this time. You won't find out later.
Back to the present. Or the future! For that is where The Gender will lead us. Onwards. And, hey, if it can't raise cattle, then who can blame it? IT'S NEW. And, like all new things, it will need a little guidance... and a lot of love.
Thank you.