Diary of Agent Raskolnikov. Part 2 (321 hits)
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Submitted by Rodion Raskolnikov <rodyarask.at.yahoo.com> (View user info) at 2008-03-18 13:00:25 EDT
Part 1: http://www.ubersite.com/m/115620
Jan 23, 1986
Sorry that I have not written in a while, Diary, but I was hanging out with the Russians. Let me try to tell everything in order.
Soon after I passed Myshkin I became so hungry that months of super-secret CIA training left out the other ear. I mean, when you're hungry then fuck the CIA, right?
I saw a Russian tank parked in the distance and approached it waving my underwear in the air. It was the only article of clothing that used to be white at some point. They weren't very white by that time, but waving a yellow flag is better than a black flag, right? I mean, I didn't want them to think that I was a pirate.
Two Russians were sitting on the tank when I walked up, talking and drinking something. I coughed to get their attention, but they were too busy laughing and did not notice me. I knocked on the tank. Note to self, do not startle drunken Russians sitting on a tank.
One of them screamed and fell off. The other dove head-first inside, there was a thud and then the cannon fired. It scared the one that fell even more and he dropped the bottle. He grabbed his AK-47 and fired at me.
I am from New Jersey and have been shot at by drunks before, so I knew exactly what to do: dance. I did "the shuffle," waving my underwear over my head. The first clip riddled the ground around my feet, but the dance distracted him and he did not fire again after reloading. He just looked at me like I was an alien. That is exactly the point.
The other Russian crawled out of the tank holding his head. They yelled at each other for a while, gesticulating wildly then stared at me. I waved my flag.
It turns out that Russians communicate by yelling and have an endless supply of Vodka. I kept putting my hands to my mouth to say that I was hungry and they kept yelling and aiming their guns at me. One of them searched me and found my last stick of chewing gum. Another bottle of Vodka came out of nowhere and they chased it with the gum, passing it to each other in between swigs.
I asked if they had any water, but they yelled and aimed at me menacingly. Dostoyevsky told us that Russians are fueled by Vodka alone, but who knew. We got drunk and they chased me to their base with the tank, firing at the ground around my feet to keep me going in the right direction.
They kept me in a cell for days and gave me nothing but Vodka. Three times a day this guy walked in and gave me a bottle. He seemed very surprised that I could not down it in one shot. Every time he yelled at me and finished it off himself. Then he always pulled out his own bottle and yelled at me while drinking it. I tried to explain to him that I was hungry, but he just paced back and forth, taking swig after swig, yelling and gesturing at the door and walls. Soon I was able to finish off half the bottle the guy brought me. When you're drunk all day long you kind of stop caring about the horrible pain coming from your stomach.
I started yelling back at the Vodka bringer to pass the time when he came over. I mean, there was nothing else to do, you know? He still paced and yelled, but started to slap me on the back in excitement. They did not bring in a translator until I could finish off the three daily bottles of Vodka all by myself. Vodka is awesome; you don't need food or purpose.
The translator's name was Boris. He came by to see me every day right after the Vodka bringer. I was wasted all day long anyway, but then I was at my best. He stood while I lay on the floor. The conversation always went the same way.
Boris: How you do?
Me: Drunk, you?
Boris: Drunk also, thank you. What your name?
Me: Rodion Raskolnikov.
He always kicked me when I said that.
Boris: Why you kill old lady and sister?
Me: Why do you keep asking that?
Boris: Because you no Raskolnikov.
Me: I'm hungry. Can I have more vodka?
Boris: Ah, vodka. Me like also. Tell me name and I give vodka.
Me: Raskolnikov.
Boris: That is name of person in book. Great, Russian book. Not your name.
Me: Why not?
Boris: You American. Intelligence say Americans no read books. Too stupid.
Me: We don't need books because we have TV.
That is when he usually kicked me again, but not always. Sometimes he just drank from his bottle. Russians always have vodka with them.
Boris: What you do in Afghanistan?
Me: I need talk to Taliban.
Boris: Why you talk to Taliban?
Me: Need give envelope.
Boris: We search you. Find envelope. Inside is picture of penis. With towel on head.
Me: That what Dostoyevsky give me.
Boris: Who Dostoyevsky?
Me: He asshole.
Boris: You tell truth, I give vodka.
Me: I tell truth, give vodka already.
Boris: You no tell truth. I find "asshole" in dictionary. No make sense. Calm on, tell.
Me: I drunk, of course I no make sense. Vodka make me sense.
Boris: Ok, we drink. You tell what you do here.
The Russians are not hard to convince to drink. After half a bottle or so, Boris usually became much nicer. He would sit on the ground with me and throw his arm around my shoulders.
Boris: I no want to shoot you in head. Tell me.
Me: I no want you shoot me in head.
Boris: What your name?
Me: Raskolnikov.
Boris: Ok, ok, Rodya ti moi. Suka ti. Ladno. Rodya ti, Rodya. Chtobi ti zdoh.
Me: What you say?
Boris: What your mama call you?
Me: Mama dead.
Boris: Papa?
Me: Dead.
Boris: Granma?
Me: Dead.
Boris: I sorry, Rodya. My mama dead also. Germans.
Me: Germans?
Boris: Nazis.
Me: America kill all Nazis.
Boris: No. Stupid American. Russia kill Nazis. America send chocolate.
Me: You no like chocolate?
Boris: I do, I do. How you here, Rodya?
Me: Airplane.
Boris: Who send you?
Me: Dostoyevsky.
Boris: Yop tvoyu mat'!
The Russians say that so often that I figured out what it means: Fuck your mother. They use that to describe all emotions, especially when drunk.
Boris: Yop tvyu mat', ti suka yabanaya! Ya tebe golovu otorvu ti yabonat proklyati'. Ya'ytsa otrezhy I v zhopu sasunu ti sukin sin!
I have no idea what the rest of that means, but he usually seemed angry when yelling that.
Boris: Where you work?
Me: CIA.
Boris: Tell truth. I gave vodka, you must tell truth.
Me: I tell truth: CIA.
Boris: You lair. Always liar.
Me: Why?
Boris: You stupid. CIA can not so stupid. CIA no send picture of penis.
Me: You hurt feelings. I no stupid.
Boris: No feel bad. Half of Russia stupid. They live. They happy. Vodka help. I stupid also ... that why I here. I hate Afghanistan. Bad place.
Me: God-damned place.
Boris: No God. Only Communism.
Me: Communism-damned place?
Boris: No vodka here. Vodka come from Russia. What county have no vodka? They crazy here.
Sometimes Boris got so drunk that I had to help him crawl out of my cell. He was a nice guy when he was drunk. I miss our heart-to-heart chats.
Then they just let me go. They resealed the envelop Dostoyevsky gave me, handed me a liter of Vodka and sent me off on my way. Strange bunch, they are. I asked if maybe they could give me a ride to the States, but they said that it would be better if I went back to doing what I was doing. Screw that shit, I'm going home to have dinner and take a long nap. When I wake up I am going to find Dostoyevsky and shave his eye brows.
User Reviews
Submitted by DudeThatsBOSH (user info) at 2008-03-20 16:38:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
man these are good haha
i like how you talk in his broken english.
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2008-03-20 14:39:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by mr-bee (user info) at 2008-03-20 10:34:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
i like it.
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2008-03-19 22:26:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
my god
Submitted by Ltap (user info) at 2008-03-19 22:02:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
Submitted by FALLEN (user info) at 2008-03-18 13:55:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
In soviet tank, vodka drinks you.
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And auto -2 for more than 1 post a day. We take no excuses and no prisoners, and we don't forgive or forget.
Submitted by TheUniter (user info) at 2008-03-19 20:52:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Submitted by InkyFingers (user info) at 2008-03-18 14:48:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
auto -2
Submitted by Doodles (user info) at 2008-03-18 14:00:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
This was far too long and not funny, at all. Also that whole one post a day thing.
I bet you have a tiny Asian-like penis.
Submitted by FALLEN (user info) at 2008-03-18 13:55:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
In soviet tank, vodka drinks you.
you spelled diary right. +1
Submitted by dithered (user info) at 2008-03-18 13:34:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: -1
1 post a day n00b
Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-03-18 13:34:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
*blinks at all the flaming*
hehehe
Submitted by rodyarask (user info) at 2008-03-18 13:08:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Yeah ... forgot about the 1-a-day thing. Been a while. Let the flaming begin!
Submitted by HurtByTheSun (user info) at 2008-03-18 13:02:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Dude, one per day. At least you got it right this time though.