Anarcho-Syndicalist

Mr. Ersatz,

I can only assume your warning to be another ploy since you know all too well that Inkling will have Mrs. Perezprieto-Padmanabhan at the airport to intercept any influx of fair Spanish ladies (oh you ladies of Spain). Casually mentioning the possibility that Spanish turpitudes might be committed at the rate of a double dozen in what may or may not be designer dresses brings out the martinet in her. Therefore, when you say “Spanish Eldest Sisters” I will assume, through my acquaintance with a certain quizzling flight attendant at Aeroflot, that you mean “long-bearded, hard drinking, former Bolsheviks.” My guess is that you will go to Pinsk for your Bolsheviks as they come extra-smelly there, but I have quizzlings watching the airports at Minsk and Omsk, just in case. Bolsheviks are extremely difficult to deal with, especially when combined with strippers, enough room to dance and a combination of overproof rum, Cream of Tartar and WD-40 (for smoothness). It worked so well for you in Vienna, or did you think I had forgotten Vienna? Fortunately, I was alerted to a sudden paucity of g-strings in the vicinity of Dulles International Airport by the quizzling biceps muscle of Rudy “Big Rudy” Rudolph, easily the most vicious and cunning strip bar bouncer in Northern Virginia.

For these reasons and others, I have taken the precaution of dressing my attorneys in babushkas and long skirts and teaching them extremely sentimental Russian songs . Moreover I have stocked the conference room with pictures of smiling collective farm workers next to enormous stacks of grain and potatoes (they’re very keen on grain, Bolsheviks) along with a slide show describing how the current five-year plan has increased steel production over 47%. Forget the fact that there isn’t a five year plan to be found on a drawing board east of Tivoli and that the lawyers look pretty silly wearing long skirts over their pin-stripe suits with babushkas on their heads, these Bolsheviks are so greased all the time, they couldn’t tell a Kulak from an Anarcho-Syndicalist. What you’ll throw at me next is anybody’s guess, but these two holes in the dike are filled.

As for my counter-ploy, well let’s just say that it’s a little easier to get a Guatemalan Colonel on retainer than it used to be and things have been pretty slow around the topless bars in the Ginza.

yours as ever,

Emanuel T. Fink

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