“Dahling… my sweet,” She said as her fingers grazed lightly along the hard ridge of the black case, “my Bublik! It’s so heavy… So… black.”
“It’s magnificent isn’t it,” Bulbik mustered his manliest grunt and in the most machismo of fashions he whispered her pseudonym, “Bunny Muffin.”
“Dah, such power, such strength! Such a -… tiny… little… box.”
“But not too tiny.”
“No! Of course not, my love- it’s… perfect size.”
“Yeah, ooh yeah,” Bublik’s face grew sweaty - his wedding band too - as he rubbed his liver spotted hands along the thin leather that wrapped Bunny’s bony flesh, “the perfect size to fit your perfect box.”
“Ooh,” Bunny Muffin sucked her teeth quelling disgust as she caressed his varicose veins tracing the swollen vines as they twisted up his bony forearm - down his leathery hands, “open it.”
“Dah,” her husky voice grated against him as she ran her fingers through his… hair, “open the box my love. Show me the raw. Strong. American. Artillery!” His flabby buttocks rippled as Bunny gave it a loud smack.
“Ooh ye-” Bunny straightened, “Vwaht?”
“I can’t- it’s against protocol.- We’re not even supposed to be in here!”
“All your comrades are off gallivanting in some Los Angeles der’movoye otverstiye, and you tell me you can’t show me the inside of a tiny little,” Bunny held up her pinky, “puny, box because it’s not… ‘protocol’? I thought you vwere more man than boy, Johnathon.”
Bublik shuddered at the mention of his true name. He straightened as he tried to impress her with his prowess, “I’m more man than all the manliest men you know, baby.”
“Then show me.”
Bublik licked the cracked and bleeding triangles at the corners of his lips.
“Hey. Bunny Muffin. Look. I would love to give you the codes. Good God! What I want you to do with my codes- unf. It’s illegal in 27 countries including Germany. And you know how kinky those germans are.”
Bunny snatched the side of Bublik’s ear and pulled him to heel, “I’m not hearing a point.”
“I-… okay, don’t get mad.
“Spit it out!”
“I don’t have the codes. I can’t open the box —
Bunny sneered as she released Bublik.
“I can see that you’re ups —.”
Bunny slapped him.
— Bublik cried a little.
“You idiot! You’ve brought me nothing but der’mo and you expect to touch me? Der’to ya porezhu tebe zhivot i naslazhdayus’ tvoimi organami! Ya zastavlyu tebya s’yest’ der’mo iz tvoyey sobstvennoy kishki! Vy nichego ne znayete...”Bunny placed a hand on Bublik’s flabby face. “It’s a good thing I plan for your failure.”
“What does that mean?”
Bunny pressed on her ear. A pale cloud consumed her eyes as she swiped angrily through the sky on a private monitor.
“Sweetheart!” Bublik cried out in desperate attempt to win back his lover, “Baby.”
“Kabluk!” Bunny threw her hand in Bublik’s face. “Da. Sdelay eto seychas.”
A knock at the door, “Sir, are you in there? Mr. Vice-President!”
Bunny winked as she crawled beneath the great oak desk.
“No one’s here! Go away,” Bublik yelled.
“There are cameras outside of the oval… sir.”
“And the secretary… she saw you go in.”
“The who—? Nevermind. Ignore what you heard — and saw! Believe me. Believe me! I am certainly not here!”
“Then... where are you?” a second voice asked. “Sir?”
“Jesus H. Christ. What the flip-rock do you want!”
“Permission to enter, sir?”
“Permission to enter? What do you mean permission! I’m not even supposed to be in here!”
An officer and an Admiral entered the office. Hats tucked under their side. The second one, the officer, stunk of The Stench. A palpable stink of admiration and glorification. -A scent akin to 3-day old Tuna, 2 cups spoiled milk- with a light sprig of cardamom boiled in a cast-iron pot on high for approximately 45 minutes, or until vomit pours from your mouth.
The Admiral spoke first, she didn’t have the stench.
“Sir, you must’ve heard the news.”
“It’s not what it looks like!”
“Sir—” the first one didn’t have the stench at all, “calm down. We’re here because—”
The room fell silent.
“Why are you here?”
“Sir!” the officer grew rattled. “North Korea! The phone call? The hostages!”
“North Korea? Ow!—“ Bunny bit Bublik’s leg, “Oh!- Of course I’ve heard about the phone call from the hostages. Why else would I be here? Waiting for the Secretary, and the President! With the football… like I’m supposed… Right?”
“But sir,” the Admiral said, “the Secretary is with the press, held hostage at the New Rallies of AmeriKa venue.”
“The unveiling is in two hours,” the officer howled, “and millions [hundreds] of civilians gathered to witness this historic event! I mean for Christ’s sake it’s the biggest thing since the 2020 election.”
“Who’s holding them hostage?”
“We don’t know.”
“You don’t know,” Bublik slammed his fist on the table.
“They think it’s,” the officer whispered, “North Korea.”
“It’s not clear. But -” the Admiral stiffened, “that’s not the most pertinent thing right now… Sir.”
“Well, what is?”
The Admiralgrew stoic. Her eyes were like cold steel; her lips tightened to a fine streak. Her left eye twitched and it grew obvious that though the government was being held hostage by a foreign power with a nuclear threat on-hand this intelligence had her scared shitless.
“Spit it out!”
“What is it gosh darnit!”
“Air Force One went dark 25 minutes ago over Nevada. President Child, and the majority of the cabinet, has gone missing.”
Bublik collapsed into his chair, “Holy hoosier!”
Bunny gasped as Bublik kicked her left breast off, “Holy Shit!”
“Do we need to call someone?”
“Sir!” the second grew dramatic, “Ohmygod is he dead?”
Bunny grabbed onto Bublik’s crotch. He raised his feeble head, “So… what you’re saying is… with the President missing… and the Secretary of Defense held hostage… I… I...”
“You and the Deputy Secretary have control of the football.”
“Holy hoosier,” Bublik rolled his head, “who’s the Deputy Secretary?”
The first officer turned to the second, “this is him.”
The officer — the Deputy Secretary waved eagerly like a frenzied child.
“Where’d he get the uniform?”
“They gave it to me on the Tarmac! I said I was cold and this real nice lady—”
“Commanding Officer Beal.”
“—gave me her jacket.”
“Uh-huh,” Bublik muttered.
“Sir,” the general cleared her throat, “the authorization codes are being sent to your uplink.”
“Do we need him?”
“Need who sir?”
“This…” Bublik gestured to the Deputy, “fuddy-duddy.”
“Is he really necessary? I mean honestly, I trust myself more and I broke into the friggin’ oval.”
The general shifted uncomfortably, “Sir, we can’t authorize that.”
Bublik gruffed, “do you have the codes?”
The deputy nodded his head vigorously.
Bublik looked at the general and nodded to the door, “Good day officer.”
“Sir? I’m not an—”
“I said good day!”
The general sneered as she turned off military heels to the door. The door shut femininely behind her.
“You,” the Vice-President barked.
“Me,” the deputy gasped.
The deputy turned to the fireplace, “there?”
“Did I stutter?”
“No sir,” the deputy ran to the fireplace and bent his arms over the mantle.
“Sing to yourself! And cover your ears!”
“Sing? For how long?”
The deputy quivered, “oh!” Then he began to sing – Glotrote Rosen.
Bublik grinned as he reached underneath the desk and helped Bunny to her feet. “Yes,” Bublik muttered as he rubbed his moist trumpeted lips into the nape of Bunny’s neck, “Yes… yes.” Bublik’s right eye grew cloudy. He smiled as he reached down to the glassy oval in the center of the black case and pressed his veiny hand against it. “I’ll show you. Goddam North Korea.”
Bunny waited with bait-ed breath as the case began to whir. Her chest tightened. Her fingers stroked the oak desk as Bublik grabbed at her leather-clad suit like a newborn babe searching for his mother’s teat. She grimaced- scowled- as he removed his other hand from the case and began to fondle her body. Then, just as she was going to reject him, the seal around the case cracked. The case popped open with a gentle hiss. -Bunny grinned, satisfied, and gave in to his fumbling advances. “Oh yes, my Bublik! How your touch thrills me so! Vwaht youth! Vwaht virility! Vwaht manhood!”
Bile burned inside Bunny’s throat.
Bublik looked at the deputy, “Sing louder!”
Bunny hid her souring face with a loud smack of her tongue. She removed the heavy black latches from their hold and placed both hands on the side of the case. Her heart leapt with anticipation as light flittered from the container as she slowly lifted the top. She salivated as she caressed this modern-day, military grade, Arc of the Covenant. Her eyes grew wide; her pupils dilated with lust, “Dah, dah, dah!”
“Kiss me my love,” he groaned as he spun her around and sat her on his desk. Chachkis, pencils, pens, and fancy stationary- unused- fell onto the floor as he pushed her onto the wooden surface. Her eyes followed the sacred box as it was pushed carelessly aside. Her neck exposed, mistaken for eagerness, found itself saturated with saliva.
“Oh,” she creaked as she looked into his craggy face- his lips squeezed together like a baboon’s anus, his eyebrows- dead caterpillars who’d never had the chance to metamorphose, “Bublik!” she exclaimed, her head thrown back in feigned yearning, blonde hair thrown over leather shoulders.
“Your skin smells delicious,” Eyes shut tightly, his parted lips gracefully collided into her neck; his face twisted in surprise, expecting to meet lips, then pleasure- accepting any kind of touch at all.
Bunny craned her neck towards the box teetering off the edge of the table, “Dah, dah- mm, so good... But… Bublik… Vwhat about the box? Vwhat about the secretary!”
The deputy had been singing the song proudly for 4 minutes. At first he was nervous, but the song rose within as he eager to please the Vice-President — Bublik, with his subservient enthusiasm.
“Hmm,” he mused as he began to unzip her leather exoskeleton, “what about it, bunny muffin.”
“Well, something so… immense should be handled with more,” Bunny gripped onto Bublik’s crotch with tentacle-like suction, “gentile hands.”
“Oh… ohhhh, sweet Jesus that’s good.”
“Mmm,” Bunny replied as she shimmied off the desk, with a grin she turned around and bent over the desk, “see dahling, power needs a vwoman’s touch or else it’s just grubyye shutki.”
“Mmm, how do you say,” Bunny replied as she reached towards the black Arc - and stuck out her ass, “roughhouse… horseplay!”
Bublik gwaffed as he slapped Bunny’s bulbous glutes, “I’ve always been a fan of horseplay.”
“Dah, my love. A master of the horses,” Bunny praised as she typed on the black box, moaning with each stroke of the key, “but do you love me?”
“Dah,” Bunny questioned meekly as she gyrated into Bublik’s bionic-pelvis.
“Yes! Oh yes! My Bublik, kiss me,” with a final stroke of a keystroke Bunny spun around and grabbed onto the lapels of Bublik’s suit. With an impassioned grunt and a fling of her blonde mane, Bunny spun Bublik against the desk, “kiss me, you fool!”
Bublik scrunched his baboon’s anus and Bunny tried not to gag- a feat worthy of a nobel prize- as she kissed him back. Her painted nails caressed his majestic silver mane. Bublik fumbled around the table as he tried to balance himself. With her eyes wide open, Bunny pulled a small white tube from in between her breast and aimed one end at the singing Deputy, who at this point was keeling over himself from singing so hard for so long. She pressed a perfectly manicured ruby finger on the button and fired. A thin white needle shot into the side of the Deputy’s neck. He gave a quick yelp before collapsing.
Bublik opened his eyes, took one glance at Bunny’s crazed look and shut them tightly once again. Bunny rolled her eyes stuck the other end into the taught skin of Bublik’s neck. His hands clambered violently until- he froze. His breath quickened as he eyes clouded over. - He panicked. —Presidentially, of course.
“Oh my God, what have you done?”
“Vwhat have I done?” Bunny pressed on the tube and the thin white wire connecting the Vice-President and the Deputy lit up. “Nyet - my dear Mr. Vice President,” Bublik’s eye grew cloudy, “vwhat have you done?” Bunny slammed Bublik’s hand onto the glass panel.
“You evil b-” Bunny thrust her hands around Bublik’s turkey neck.
“You’re not going soft on me are you dahling,” Bunny pressed another button on the tube and it - wire, spoke, and all - disintegrated. The Deputy groaned as he rose his head. Bunny took another tube from her breasts and shot it at the Deputy. The Deputy collapsed.
“Of course not!” Bublik gasped for breath as Bunny squeezed his sagging jewels, I’m — I’m…”
“I’m sorry! I’m so scared!”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Bunny muttered as Bublik began to weep openly. She released him, “Bublik.” Bunny pushed the red button.
“I’m ruined! You— …” Bunny raised an eyebrow, Bublik shriveled into the lavish buckskin chair, “I just set off a bomb god knows where! The political fallout will be disastrous! The media will skin me alive! The people will never love me! I’ll never be President.”
“You’re a fool Bublik.”
“Only a fool succumbs to the opinions of lesser men.”
“But how do I — could I explain this!”
“You don’t. When in doubt, frame an enemy, obliterate them in vwar, and force them to vworship your culture even though you’ve pillaged their lands for generations. It’s child’s games.”
“That’s so,” Bublik grunted sexually as he hoisted Bunny onto the desk, “American.”
“American? Ha! That’s adorable dahling- vwe invented the method.- Now, let me tell you how to win this eventual vwar.”
“But I’m not at vwar.”
“Oh my sweet, how naïve, in a matter of moment Los Angeles vwill be wiped off the face of the Earth,” Bunny said as she zipped up her leather suit, “the president has gone missing. And North Korea has threatened your cabinet with a nuclear might. You are at vwar. In your mind.” Bunny caressed Bublik’s sweaty forehead. “In your heart.” Bunny adjusted Bublik’s purple power tie and grinded into his pelvis, “In your—”
“But they haven’t attacked us.”
Bunny grimaced, “Let me make it simpler for you Johnathon.” Bunny squeezed Bublik’s face. “You pin this on North Korea and I’ll help you be president—”
“I can already run for office.”
“The things vwe have done to your little Declaration and your Bills in the past eight years alone? Tsk, tsk, tsk. You should’ve really thought about regressing to more paper based forms of communication… Carrier pigeons, perhaps? Maybe then your people vwouldn’t believe everything they read on the internet.” Bunny pushed Bublik away from her, he collapsed into the chair and rolled back against the window, “Yes dahling, vwe have done some absolutely vwonderful things! And soon, your puny house of spades and jokers vwill fall under the might of the Iron Curtain.”
“I don’t understand,” Bublik whispered as he tried to blend into buckskin as Bunny marched towards him. She stuck her black leather boot into the chair and donned a grin.
“You poor man. It’s no vwonder you have so litle power. Money has made you soft… in more vways than one.”
“I’ll agree to your deal,” Bublik muttered, “but you must answer one question.”
“If I must.”
“Is the President dead?”
“What?! Then how on God’s green Earth do you plan to—”
Bunny slammed Bublik’s head against the wooden sideboard, “You dare question me? I created you!”
Bublik sniveled - the roses in the garden were wilting.
“The good parts at least,” Bunny said as she released Bublik, “The President vwill be missing for the next month. A week from now you vwill reveal that your administration has receive a phone call from a terrorist organization called The Cecidit who claim to have him. You vwill pilot a deal with this organization to return the President home. On this voyáge, the then-former-President Childe vwill have an accident. No doubt a trick by The Cecidit, vwe shall be forced to declare vwar. Not only on the Cecidit, but for those that dared attack your citizens in the first place — North Korea. VWe vwill vwipe away my enemies like the roaches they are. A scourge that must be eradicated.”
“But President Childe is nothing more than an overgrown toddler!”
“Grow a pair, Johnathon.”
“Fine,” Bublik said as he straightened up, “but what’s stopping me from dropping bombs all up and down your iron carpet?”
“You said Iron Carpet.”
“Iron Curtain! Iron Curtain! Slaboumnyy!”
“Whatever, it is I’ll bomb it to hell or high water!”
“Or, you disobey me? I reveal all your evil misdoings to the world - and you’ll discover vhy Russia is famous for fates vworse than death. Dah?”
“You’ve been a very naughty boy during your year in your Congress Mr. Vice-President. Do you agree to my deal?”
“Da,” Bublik said, barley louder than a whisper, his saggy face ridden with subservience.
“Ulybka, svin’ya-durak. I know vwhat vwill make you feel better my pet.”
“Vwhat,” Bublik mumbled.
“Come my love, let me shower you vwith my golden affection.”