VLAD & XI and their BIG WESTERN ADVENTURE

Our heroes were not having it easy.

For years they’d kept their heads down attempting that unusual thing for leaders, trying to help the citizens of their nations live a better life.

A new president had taken over from the previous U.S. psycho the American people had elected and was peering malevolently at them.

Biden was the latest in a long line of warmongers, some crafty and cunning, others obviously evil... Biden was something in between, a bumbling thug disguised as your favorite uncle. However, a little research into his past revealed him in all his malevolent glory.

Vlad and Xi had yet another variation on the same old Yankie Nutball theme on their hands.

So, they got together.

Both men liked to use the material in their craniums which the western media that so loved Biden’s brainfree bumblings totally failed to spot. Instead of seeing this they had filters over their limited braincells which pictured both with long red tails and horns on their heads. Perhaps they were caught in a perpetual hallow’een night of the mind?

Vlad & Xi talked it over with a glass or two of mineral water and a spot of borscht when they became peckish. There was a lot to say that night as they pondered what to do about the latest lunatic to run the western asylum...

Simply talking of the factual conditions of this and that had not worked however. They needed to devise some means of reaching the level of those who had drifted up to the top of the sewer pond over there, and quick.

So it was they devised 'The Method’.

‘The Method’ consisted of both men breaking the sobriety habit of a lifetime to get themselves thoroughly stupid. The finest vodka and sanhuajiu served their purpose very well and before long they were imitating certain redneck facial expressions such as peering neanderthal-like through knitted brows and pouting before each sentence.

The 'fluence of the shots was working. Voices slurred. Hands waved. Grunts were heard. Later the air would be punctuated by loud epithets and cusswords. All the while the two men began to really “get” what it meant to be as thick as a brick... or the average American politician.

The deeper they got into it the more the reality dawned upon them. And this reality was unfortunately beginning to be a self-defeating and sobering experience in terms of their experiment.

But before they allowed themselves to be sobered up with the knowledge that it was in fact impossible to argue with a sick mind and that this experiment was a failure, they continued and gave of it their best.

Even more alcohol was now consumed in the to reach the absolute bottom-most pit of the western political mind.

Now they began to get there!

Aggression was emerging, the most potent sign yet that there was still hope for this experiment.

Now things began to become clear to them as never before.

Snarls filled the room. Crawling on all fours facing each other, faces contorted in variations on the theme of semi-mindless rage.

An epiphany of recognition struck them both concurrently.

This was it!

They both knew... this is what they must respond to somehow.

This, almost brain-absent idiocy and mindless fury they now saw, was always lurking under the surface, all self-generated. By what...?

Then they saw it, the self-created paranoia... the nameless fear built on a model created by all those around them! The snarling mindset of an impotent, terminally injured beast hissing and lashing out at phantasms seen within its own diseased and dying mind!

The realization hit the two men instantly that they were there, right at the core of Americanism, at the beating heart of stupidity that infected every single one of those cursed by it in that benighted land. And chiefly of course; in spades... its leadership.

The two men flipped over onto their backs and laughed themselves hoarse.

Of course this was it! Why hadn’t they seen it while sober? Had it really been necessary to get this out of it to get into it? The answer of course was yes, no sober, sane person could fully understand that level of chronic insanity, that degree of mania, such rabid lunacy and that degree of estrangement from reality.

Arms flung to each side, legs splayed, they lay sighing for some time, now and then chuckling in a mixture of relief and disbelief.

Presently they rose, straightened their suits, looked at each other as if for the first time... and exploded again in laughter. A laughter of terrible recognition that rang out into the Moscow night, almost as loud as the huge bells of Ivan the Great’s Bell Tower.

Vlad and Xi’s big western adventure was over.

They knew the insights gained would be very difficult to apply however, but now they knew their enemy as never before.

It was time to catch some well earned rest and retire for what was left of the night.

Before doing so there was one last thing they agreed wholeheartedly to do.

To treat their western “partners” as they now knew them to be, like little lost children with delusions driving them wild.

Then, as they passed through the great doors they shook hands, smiled and swore a lifelong oath to never touch a drop of vodka or sanhuajiu ever again...