Sexy Soviets: The War Room

Unending BE - episode 1180007

“General…we have a situation,” a thick Russian voice spoke up. An imposing green suited general walked over to the offending mans monitor and glanced at the scrawl of numbers and flashing lights. “It’s the weapon, it’s been activated.”

The general let loose a string of profanities as long as the computer operators arm.

“Get me the president on the line!” he bellowed.

“What is the meaning of dragging me all the way down here at such an hour?” the ambassador sniffed sternly. Generals and aides alike tried to hide their distaste. Even though the Cold War had ended decades ago it had done little to mellow the attitudes between America and Russia, and the members of the Russian government in the room held the American ambassador with extreme contempt.

“Uh, perhaps the ambassador would be of liking a Haitian cigar?” an aide offered the ambassador as the two walked stiffly down the long corridors of the Kremlin to the meeting room, trying his best to keep the situation calm.

“No thank you,” the man responded airily. “I don’t take products produced by Imperialistic stooges.”

“Only Capitalistic stooges then,” a Russian commander behind him mumbled. The American ambassador tactfully decided to ignore that last comment as two stoic door guards opened a pair of imposing steel locks and motioned for the party to enter.

A man stood up from his chair and walked over. The ambassador knew him on sight. Broad shoulders, a short yet imposing man, a fading hair line, but calm and composed. President of Russia, Vladmir Putin.

“Mr. President! What is the meaning of this? Why have I been dragged from my bed to your war room at this despicable hour?” the ambassador demanded.

“Calm yourself Mr. Ambassador, there was a incident with one of our…” Putin let out a cough and tried to suppress the next words “cold war weapons. We believe that your country may suffer some risks if we allow it to ummm…spread.”

“Spread?!” the livid ambassador began. “You mean to tell me there is a viral contagion loose somewhere in the United States of America spreading now that was invented by your lunatic communist predecessors?”

“Calm yourself Mr. Ambassador. We believe we can contain the outbreak, but we must reach your President Obama to inform him of the containment measures. Alas we cannot reach him on telephone.”

“You should try B86534 Washington, the president may be the most powerful man in the world…but he is still a man…if you follow my meaning.” The ambassador said in his crass Russian. An aide nodded in the direction of the party and handed the Ambassador the phone. “President Obama? Yes, this is Ambassador Slavish…no Slavish sir, not to Egypt sir to Russia…yes RUSSIA, former Soviet Union? BANG BANG POW POW KABOOM? THAT UNION?...Well there was a small incident here…I’m sure that Putin can explain it to you himself…Putin?...PRESIDENT VLADMIR PUTIN OF RUSSIA MR. PRESIDENT! YES I’LL PUT HIM ON NOW.”

“There,” he said handing the phone back to a confused looking Putin. “I’ve done as you asked. Be careful Mr. Putin, he’s very drunk.”