The Yakkings of Melmoth

A SPIN, WITH VOLGAMATIC TRANSMISSION

The scene spun out like this:

Dubya: How the f@*% d'ya steer this Commiemobile?

Vlad: Mistr Prayseedawnt, has forklift-style stee-reeng box.

Dubya: How the f@*% d'ya shift it?

Vlad: Has Stalin-o-matic drive.

Dubya: Holy f@*%! Y'mean the Leader and Teacher hisselfs drove this
here rig, Vladimur?

Vlad: (lying, as it seems to please the President) You bet you, Mistr
Prayseedawnt.

Dubya: Can't wait to get the f@*% back to my Suburban!

Vlad: (in post-Soviet Russian, to the press outside) Poor Mistr Boosch.
He is how you say, baby-coddled with the GM autos.

Dubya: Hey Vladimur, kin you f@*%ing do me a favour?

Vlad: Anything, Mistr Prayseedawnt.

Dubya: Well, y'know, cuz Poppy won the Kold Worr an' all, I uh,
promised him that when I'd finally driven Joey Stalin's car in triumph,
with you ridin' shotgun so's you're humiliated in front of all your
Commie friends, I promised Poppy that I'd take a dump in Joey's crapper,
too, jes for good measure. And hey, YOU get to f@*%ing flush! Can we go
over there now?

Vlad: But of course Mistr Prayseedawnt. Take 'left' turn up ahead. 'Get
it'? (laughs)

Dubya: (a tad dim in picking up on Vlad's wry wit in roasting him with
a little post-Leninist-Marxist humour) OK. I can't wait no longer. This
is gonna be a the f@*%ing highlight of this here joyride.

Vlad: (as former head of KGB, Vlad knows that all Kremlin toilets are
equipped with spy-cams; he whips out his Nokia and, in deepest Russian,
requests for the Josef Stalin Memorial Sanitary Pedistal Stall to be
dolled up for the President's imminent arrival, and that spy-cam access
be opened up to the international media) I totally agree, Mistr
Prayseedawnt.





The Yakkings of Melmoth