A Trip to Mother Russia

So I planned a trip to Russia in order to pay my respects at the Milosevic funeral. This was rather sudden and I didn't have time to find a ticket to use my frequent flier miles, and so I was a little burned up. And I was little nervous going there, because I had sort of cheated the Russian mob during that diamond heist in Leningrad right after those bastards starting taking the Wall down in '89, and I figured the Russian mob was still a little sore at me. And when people like that get a little sore at you, they try to kill you. And so I took a few bodyguards with me, just in case.

So I'm sitting down at the ceremony, and everyone's coming up paying their respects and throwing flowers and what not and saying how great Milosevic was and how much he did for the rights of Serbs everywhere, and then all of a sudden Crotop the Moldovan Bear comes up to me. I thought he had been working in the States, but apparently he was deported again. I asked him why- if it was his visa or something- but then he shook his head and told me it was because he broke someone named Megan's law or something. What a country America is! That individual citizen's get their own laws. That's a bit too free-spirited and wishy-washy if you ask me.

So then Crotop tells me that without Milosevic protecting me in the Balkans, I could be through- the Russian mafia would see to that- and that I should go with him to a meeting and that they could work out a deal with me and then I'd be safe.

And that's how I knew they were going to come at me. The Russian mob was going to arrange a meeting through Crotop, and at that meeting I was going to be assassinated. That's the smart play for Crotop. Crotop was always smarter.

That's the way people are in this business- they come to you in your moment of weakness- they come as your friends- and you don't see it coming. And so I recognized this Moldovan wolf in sheep's clothing for what he really was, and decided to make my move.

So I told Crotop we should leave the funeral and take my car to go meet with the mob. He made a call to his boss Barzinov, and then we headed for my car. I had my bodyguards already waiting by the car- they knew the drill.

"You get in the car Crotop- but I'm not going with you." I told Crotop.

"But you have to go with me to the meeting -otherwise you'll mess everything up...." he explained.

But then Crotop paused for a second, and suddenly it dawned on him what was coming next, and his heart sunk.
"McStallen - can you get me off the hook- for old time sake?" he begged.

I just smiled and shook my head. "Can't do it, Crotop."

"Mikhael- It was nothing personal, just business." said Crotop.

And then I pushed him into the car and one of my body-guards fired a .22 slug into his head.
We dumped the body in the Volga and headed off.

Well that wasn't business for me- that was all personal, I god damn guarantee it.


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On to more cheery news...

"Among individuals, as among nations, respect for the rights of others is peace."

So said Benito Juarez. And today is the 200th birthday of Benito Juarez, the former president of Mexico and champion of "La Reforma." Mr. Juarez served two terms as Mexico's president in the 1860s, and worked to fight both oppression by the Roman Catholic Church and the French government. The French probably deny this now- just like they deny everything else in their past pertaining to misdeeds, violence, aggression etc. A decade from now they'll probably deny the chronic rioting and civil disobedience that's been ravaging their landscape.

Anyway Feliz Navidad Mr. Juarez. Feliz Navidad.