The Soviet Affair: The Finale

Matt and Frenchie, tied to their chairs, were carried to a large room with concrete walls. They soldiers sat the two spies down beside each other and took a few steps back. The Russian, who Matt believed must have been a general in the Soviet military, stepped up in front of them.

 

“Now, make no mistake about it, I intend to see you both killed. But first I want you ask you a few questions. You might as well answer as truthfully as possible because you’re going to die regardless.”

 

Matt looked over at Frenchie. He saw that Frenchie had the biggest look of confidence on his face. He thought that Frenchie was trying to give his best James Bond impression, as if at any moment Frenchie would crack some wise and cunning answer to one of the Russians questions. It sickened him. The Russian walked over to another soldier and began to speak in a very low tone. This gave Frenchie and Matt a few seconds to talk amongst themselves.

 

“I’m just sad that I can’t be the one to kill you myself, Frenchie.” Matt said bluntly.

 

“Matt, Matt, calm down,” Frenchie assured him. “Look, I have this all under control. I’ve seen this in movies at least 25 times. Listen, I have it all under control.”

 

Matt just sighed and shook his head. The Russian walked back over to the bois. “Alright! Enough stalling! Any last requests?”

 

Matt suddenly wondered why the Russian didn’t ask any questions.

 

“Yes! I have one!” Frenchie perked up. “I would like you to tell me your entire plan of how you are going to kill us.”

 

“Well, that’s simple. I’m going to point to those guys over there and when I do, they will open fire and shoot you until you are dead.”

 

“That’s all?” Frenchie asked. “No elaborate plan? No high-tech means of killing us? No far-fetched plan to get rid of us?” He seemed to be challenging the Russian now.

 

“No,” the Russian sounded quite irritated now. “Just shoot you.”

 

Matt then realized with a loud groan what Frenchie’s plan had been. Frenchie had wanted the Russian to tell him his plan, like the villan in a James Bond movie always does when they are about to kill him. Frenchie figured that the Russian would tell him some elaborate plan and then Frenchie could work and use that very plan against them. Frenchie was a dumbass.

 

The Russian looked at Matt. “What say you? You know, it will be a shame to kill such a handsome man as you. I like you, comrade.”

 

“That’s very sweet of you,” Matt side while cocking his head to one side. “Well, I have a little proposition for you.” You see my friend over there?“

 

The Russian grunted without even looking at Frenchie.

 

“Well, he is very talented in certain ways that may be of use to you.”

 

“What are you saying, comrade?”

 

“I’m saying that Frenchie will suck every dick in this room if you let us go.”

 

“What?” Frenchie said. He was embarrassed. “Maaaaaatt, you know that I’m shy about that kind of thing!”

 

“I don’t know about that,” the Russian said. “I would really like to kill him!”

 

“PLEASE!” Frenchie exploded. “PLEASE DON’T KILL US!” He was crying now. “I SUCK YO DICK MAN! I SUCK YO DICK!” Matt looked over at Frenchie, who now sounded like a crack fiend asking for money.

 

“He really will,” Matt said assuringly. “Frenchie can suck a bowling ball through a McDonalds straw.”

 

“Well, I don’t know,” the Russian said. “We kind of have protocol about things such as this.”

 

Frenchie’s sobs were echoing through the concrete room. “Please, I will! I will suck ya dicks! Just don’t kill me!”

 

“I wouldn’t recommend it to you if I didn’t believe so myself,” Matt said. “Frenchie sometimes can be a little coy about it, but once you go Frenchie, you never go back.”

 

The Russian looked at Matt as if he was convinced. “Alright!” the Russian said with laughter. “I will do it! Thank you, comrade. You know, my wife, she no sucky no more. She just lay there like sleeping cat while I do all the work. Just once I would like to be worked on, eh?” He said this with a nudge of his elbow.

 

“Oh, I agree,” Matt said. “And Frenchie here, why, he can do just that!”

 

Matt was a terrible friend. He had just sold Frenchie to the Russian and the group of soldiers in the room for his freedom. As Frenchie began to work on the Russian, a group of about eight soldiers grabbed him and dragged him into the next room. God only knows what they did to him in there. As Matt walked back to the hotel a free man, he slept like a baby into the late afternoon the falling day. After an ordeal such as that, sleep was very welcome. Frenchie arrived later that evening. He came into the room dancing like a ballerina. He certainly had the time of his life in the Soviet Union.

 

The End.