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cheeks. “…And please don’t kidnap him this time! God knows what he
wrote that off as—he probably thought he had been whisked away by
spirits or conveyed some deep mystical secret by angels. That’s how
Islam started, you know. And now look at all the trouble that’s caused.”
The man with the mustache growled. “There are two rules you’ve forgotten:
never kidnap someone you intend to befriend, and never, ever,
conduct a land war in Russia. You know better than to fuck with a Russian…”
He did look remarkably like Stalin.
Tall silent guy looked up from behind his book to quietly mutter “Or
China.”
Johny was utterly baffled—and enthralled. This was even better than
MTV.
“What does ‘friend’ ever mean to you?” Robert asked, also under his
breath.
“Comrade,” Mr. Mustache had been hunting through his pockets for
something, and finally produced a lollipop, which he promptly
unwrapped and shoved into his mouth, sucking furiously.
“That’s precisely the problem. We’re talking about people here, not
Ideas. Not regimes. Has Mohammed been sent to make the pickup for the
converts?”
Still somehow standing on his one good leg, the “Captain” spun
around towards Johny and pointed with a gnarled, accusatory finger. “O
God, look down and see this squint-eyed man, blinded by his own rules
of office! They are three times enslaved who cage themselves, most deaf
of all who cringe and hide behind that tyrant majesty—appointment
book, plans for the week, schedule to follow, love to provide!”
Johny stared ahead blankly, hoping that if he ignored him he would go
away.
Meanwhile, Stalin continued his conversation with old red-face. “Yes,
he has been sent. We have three positions. I am all for forgetting the first
minor front like I said…no matter how much that makes your weak heart
cringe, Robert.” He gestured again at the map, this time with his glistening
lollipop.
The naval officer spun back around, and screamed “And I, who will to
hunt the whale!” It didn’t seem to be directed at anyone in particular, and
he was summarily ignored.
“The greatest concern is the ‘front’ of friendship, which is nothing
now but a front, for far too many,” red-faced-Robert said, gravely nodding
at Stalin. “We have to continually remind ourselves why we do
what we do. Let’s not systematize the chaos. We’ll lose the reality war
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