NICOSIA — In a stunning and completely unhinged turn of events, the Cypriot government has announced the launch of a brand-new initiative aimed at “modernizing and regulating everyday corruption,” with the rollout of an Official Corruption License™ — a laminated card that allows citizens to legally bribe public officials, provided they do so with the appropriate paperwork, emotional manipulation, and exact change.

At a lavish press conference catered entirely by the cousin of someone from the Land Registry, the Minister of Internal Complications, Christoforos Galatariotis, proudly displayed the card, describing it as “a bold step forward into the dark past.” The card, which features gold embossing, your mother’s maiden name, and a scratch-and-sniff patch that smells like freshly laundered envelopes, will grant holders priority access to building permits, parking zones, and “certain mysterious favors that you’ll know when the time comes.”

Applicants must prove they have:

1. A cousin in a government position.
2. A strong handshake that implies secrets.
3. A minimum of five phone numbers that begin with “99” and are answered only on Tuesdays.

Within hours of the announcement, hundreds of people lined up outside the Ministry building, all holding folders labeled “For My Eyes Only” and envelopes suspiciously thick for documents. One man attempted to bribe the receptionist with koupepia, whispering, “You know what this is for,” and receiving a wink in return.

But the real innovation, officials claim, is the Transparency Tracker — a digital platform where all bribes must now be logged under one of 17 government-approved euphemisms, including “Civic Encouragement,” “Motivational Envelope,” and “Coincidental Generosity.” A section titled “Gifts That Just Happened to Fall Into the Car Boot” has already received over 9,000 entries.

Opposition leaders have condemned the scheme as “utterly outrageous,” before quietly requesting five licenses each “for research purposes.”

Meanwhile, the Church of Cyprus released a statement expressing moral concern, then immediately announced the sale of limited-edition Blessed Corruption Cardholders™, handcrafted from old pews and certified by a semi-retired monk.

The private sector has embraced the plan with open arms and unlocked cash drawers. Banks now offer a “Bribery Mortgage Combo Pack,” which includes a discount on legal fees if you slip your lawyer a €50 in the shape of a dove. Even bakeries are getting involved: a bakery in Strovolos is reportedly giving out free tiropitas to anyone who flashes their license and says, “I’d like my pastries… expedited.”

Not to be outdone, the Ministry of Education has announced “Corruption Literacy” as a mandatory school subject from Year 4 onwards, with final exams including the Art of the Nudge, Selective Memory Techniques, and an oral presentation titled “How to Say ‘I Know People’ Without Saying ‘I Know People.’”

Asked whether the plan might damage public trust, the Minister replied, “The public still trusts us?”

An emergency hotline has been established for citizens concerned about misuse of the corruption license. Calls are promptly redirected to a man named Andreas who answers from the back of a Mercedes and only speaks in winks.

At press time, Parliament has proposed expanding the license to include spiritual corruption, such as saving a church seat with a handbag during Easter mass or pretending to fast while secretly eating souvlaki in the car.

The first annual Official Corruption Awards Gala is now scheduled for November, with categories like “Most Creative Use of an Uncle,” “Lifetime Achievement in Parking Permit Flexibility,” and “Best Performance in a Denial of Wrongdoing.”

The President has yet to comment officially, although sources close to the Presidential Palace claim he was seen chuckling into a manila envelope filled with “suggestions.”

This article is entirely satirical. Corruption is real. This is just how we laugh while we wait for something to change.