Ladies and Gentlemen, please sit down. I have an announcement to make, and I'd hate to think that you might hurt yourself if you're overcome by emotion.
Today, I would like to announce the presence of Fakeistan, and Robonia.
These sovereign nations are not new, in a physical sense. However, being two Eastern European countries, they have newly demarcated borders, which may have escaped even the most avid geopolitical scholar.
Thus, I present for you a potted history of these illustrious countries.
Located in the Siberian steppes, Fakeistan and Robonia are former USSR satellite states. As such, they are both nuclear powers, but shhh, don't tell anyone. (No, really, they're trying to keep this on the down-low, so they'd totally appreciate you keeping this under your toup). They obtained this technology at the end of the Cold War, during the collapse of the USSR - their location made them the perfect sites for nuclear silos, and when the USSR withdrew from these satellite states, they didn't have time to pack properly. This was poor forward planning on the part of the USSR - no wonder it collapsed! - as they were dealing with countries whose Foreign Policy was, in a nutshell, Finders Keepers. Because Fakeistan and Robonia now have The Bomb, this Policy has extended to encompass a Shit Us And We Nuke You mentality. This is not an ideal situation, but it does mean that everyone is really, really nice to them (until they go the bathroom, then everyone bitches about them behind their backs). Their First Strike Capability is manned by a manic depressive named Igor. When Igor takes to his bed, overcome by the overwhelming bleakness of the human condition, his shifts are covered by his donkey, Trevor. Should you ever tour the weapons facility, make sure you say hello to Trevor, as he has a persecution complex, and a failure to greet him appropriately, and thus shit him, will lead to you being nuked. This is not an ideal outcome for anyone, so practice a big Hello Trevor! before you visit.
Igor (when he's well enough) and Trevor answer to the respective governments of their nations, which are located in the capital cities. Madeupograd, the political heart of Fakeistan, is a triumph of Soviet architecture. Seldom have so many different shades of gray been used in a single city - truly, it is a sight to behold. However, Pravda, the capital of Robonia, can make no such claim. The less said, the better.
The GDP of both nations involves two sets of books. The actual set of books - the ones we're not allowed to disclose - seem to enter a fair few shipments of opium. The money from the provision of such goods to the world is funnelled back into the nuclear program. But we're not talking about that! The set of books that the accountants get to play with state that the main export of Robonia is mercury. This is handy, as this product is readily bought by Fakeistan. Fakeistan uses the mercury to create a dye compound, which is used in the production of dye. Again, handy, because Fakeistan is the world's leading exporter of fuzzy felt shapes. Because of the mercury compound, it is highly recommended that you do not lick these fuzzy pieces. Indeed, if they can be kept away from naked flame or living tissue, so much the better!
The people of these nations are triumphantly living the Communist dream. As such, they can not afford jam, and so are forced merely to lick pictures of jam. They claim this as a crowning achievement in their histories, as previously, they couldn't even afford pictures of jam. In the future, they're looking forward to obtaining radiators.
The easiest way of getting around Madeupograd or Pravda is by Segue. While these bicycle wannabes are the gayest mode of transportation on Earth, the punishment for pointing this out is severe - transgressors are arrested, and forced to watch Star Trek re-runs until they agree that there are gayer things out there. Further, we're talking about of nation of people suffering from mercury poisoning, with access to nuclear weapons. This is a combination that doesn't need right on its side to take the kind of actions that will ruin your day.
But don't let this stop you from visiting this beautiful area of Eastern Europe! Visas can easily be obtained - if the office is closed, simply write 'TREVOR WILL GET BACK TO ME, ASAP' in your Passport with a red pen. All Customs officials will recognise this, as Trevor is a donkey of his word. Happy travelling!
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2 comments:
Oh yeah.
Mel, you've out done yourself.
BPE. Best Post Ever.
Top stuff!
Mind you, I have heard of these places. Aren't the capitals Bollocksville and Bogus Town (not to be confused with Bogan Town, which we also know as Dubbo).
By the way, Trevor is da bomb!
Did I say bomb? No I meant....
Good god girl.....hand the drugs around.....you have done yourself proud this time!
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