small USSR

R: -So that means you have nothing to do with it? - Russia relaxed. Still, the conversation with the Third was not so sycophantic. The Reich told the story in detail to the son of the Union, sometimes puffing displeasedly, which looked very cute. Sovok himself did not understand at all what they were talking about and who he was, but he also listened attentively, sometimes assenting to Russia’s questions. TR: -I’m telling you, of course it has nothing to do with it! - Reich said irritably, spreading his hands, - I woke up the morning after he came to me, and there he was, sitting and watching, the little devil. Reich spoke with a thin line that was about to break off and reveal the fangs of the Third, hidden behind pretty lips. His voice trembled slightly with irritation, the German often swallowed his words, trying to tell everything much faster, so that Russia would finally take this boy with him and leave, also tidying up his problems. But still, friendship with the elder Union served as the origin of mercy and sentimentality for the Nazi. Russia thought it over in his head, digested and processed the information in his head. The tea slightly warmed up his thoughts; after all, he was used to drinking coffee or water, and not some kind of tea. He wasn't picky or anything, but it was enough to relax his mind. The guy sighed. R: -Let's start from the very beginning, only in even more detail, what you did, what environment you were in, what objects you took before going to bed. TR: - Damn you, I invited him to a sleepover, offered to drink coffee, then he somehow strangely went to the guest room - and that’s it! I don’t know anything else, unbekannt!N-E-I-Z-V-E-S-T-N-O! - Reich, in despair, having already told his story 4 times, hit the table with his fist. The edge broke, and suddenly crying was heard. Russia turned his gaze to his father, and Reich immediately calmed down. R: -Damn, what have you done?! - Slowly switching to “you,” the guy said. TR: -That's just the point! Nothing, boy! R: “You drank coffee with him,” Russia emphasized the word “coffee.” Reich raised his eyebrows in surprise and was about to get something out of his mouth, when suddenly both heard a sharp sound from under the table, sobering them up. Not quiet at all, but rather a very loud and ringing cry came from under the table. Both immediately guessed who it could be, but one thing was unclear - how the Union managed to crawl under the table if it was under the strict supervision of its father. However, no matter how funny it may sound, Russia now felt like a father, not a son. All this was so new and unexpected that a lot of ideas and thoughts were spinning in my head, and all this was gathering into a big splinter in the back of the Russian’s head, which was sometimes very annoying. It seems that he didn’t have time to spend even a day with the new little problem, and his head was already bursting at the seams and splitting into thin cracks, like a zipper braid with rivets to boot. Take it as you wish, but Russia concluded that with a 99.098% probability he definitely won’t have children. Only if he doesn’t accidentally drink himself into oblivion and Ukraine doesn’t pick up his brother from the bar. However, time does not stand still, so after a couple of seconds of continuous crying, he could already see the 5th point of the Reich crawling out from under the table where the boy was sitting. Since the table was in a very strange position (namely, under it, for some unknown reason, lay a shitty cloud of boxes with Nazi themes and too many suspicious rubber ducks, all with the same white cross either on the wings or on the forehead), the Reich, accordingly, was completely It’s inconvenient to crawl entirely under the table, because who knows, maybe these boxes will suddenly fall on the red one (both) and Reich will be forced to spit out those very ducks from his mouth. For this reason, one could only see the Third’s ass, his entire back was almost completely under the table, and from the sounds it was clear that Reich had bowed his head to the side due to the tight space and was now trying to reach with one hand at least part of the small thing and finally shut up the squeaker. He swore a couple of times, to which he received a kick in the ass from Russia and almost broke his neck when he finally got Sovk, who calmed down with that same rubber duck that accidentally fell on Reich’s cap at the very moment when he almost shut up the boy. Russia frowned when he saw the strange duck, but didn’t pay any attention to it. After all, Reich also has a son, but why the fuck are there so many ducks? Having given his son his father's care, Reich took a breath, rubbed his neck, butt and straightened his back, cracking his spine. They decided to leave the duck to the Union. R: -I would never talk to you, but... Don’t you think that every hour his mind is becoming much more childish? Reich looked sideways at Russia and thought. Indeed, lately, it seems as if every hour he is becoming more and more stupid, and his memory is fading. The third looked worriedly at his comrade’s son and expressed concern: TR: “We have to do something! There’s no chance he’ll become just a 5-year-old, and then I’ll have to drink tea alone all my life?” Russia thought about it. Every day, no, every hour, my father becomes more and more stupid, his memory is gradually fading, like a child’s thinking returns. In addition, it is unknown what Sovok was like as a child, especially at that age. If Russia takes in a little father, it will be bad, because in childhood he could be very whiny or, conversely, very loud and joyful, noisy, energetic, and generally annoying. This is the last thing the senior Russian (at the moment) would want. After all, he already has things to do that he conveniently missed because of this very problem, and no one would want a small red bee with a hammer and sickle on his eye forever buzzing and whining in his ear. Rather, he would prefer to throw himself out of the first floor window in a cold sweat and run away into the beautiful distance, completely forgetting about the little annoying creature. But fortunately it is impossible to forget your relatives, even if they are younger. Just think, you just threw... most of your life into the trash, and without proper care, you won’t die for long. It’s like a suitcase without a handle - it’s hard to drag, but it’s a pity to leave it, so here it is: a small problem containing a big elephant is very annoying, but on the other hand, you can’t leave it, it’s a pity. And therefore Russia turned to the window, frowning. Silence really wouldn’t hurt now, because it’s much better to think this way. Reich continued to pluck the duck with nervous movements, and the baby was always squeaking at it, which is why the Third decided to take it away, but instead of the expected screams and whining, and after the glorious cruel feeling of victory, he felt not this, but only a serious pain sharply piercing his finger . Tears reflexively appeared in his eyes, and Reich screamed and stood up, tearing out his almost bloody finger, but with a red welt, and they seemed to be very angry. The USSR laughed, saying that he never lost his mind and greatness over the Third, to which the Second got even more excited and took the squeaker from the hands of the Union and began to swear (not with obscenities, rather scold) him with all unknown name-calling like: pickled cucumber or a damn slipper, so as not to give away a curse word, showing how unrestrained he really is. In principle, he frankly didn’t care, because relatively everyone here was one of their own, but still, it was impossible to swear in front of a small child, still knowing that at heart he was almost a 40-year-old man. The Union, in response to such provocations, kicked Reich and also cursed at him in its childish tone, but already slightly pushing his way to the mats. Russia just looked out the window, still listening to how they were fighting and thinking about his father, who needed to be saved. But the swearing quickly stopped, as quickly as it began. Russia even turned around to see if they had killed each other. And, fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, not. However, he saw a completely different picture, which first frightened him, and then shocked him and frightened him again: the Reich was holding in the hands of the Union, which seemed to have become even smaller. The little one's eyes were closed, his nose was snoring in a soft tone, and his body was in a relaxed state. Reich looked either frightened or surprised with concern, which he tried to hide from the eyes of his son, the boy lying in his arms. He looked at Russia and quickly rolled his eyes, the first did the same. They looked at each other and then at the boy for a couple of minutes and frankly did not understand how this had happened. But Russia sharply frowned and pushed the Third on the shoulder, having previously said in a whisper, like, why are you standing, where is your bed. After finishing the Reich brake, they finally carried the boy to bed, and Russia thanked God for hearing him. They went to the kitchen together without saying a word and continued to drink tea. A plan was born in Russia's head. Reich looked at the guy in thought. I wonder what thoughts are now spinning in the head of the son of the Union. Although the Reich did not really think about Russia’s thoughts, the situation simply did not allow anything more. There was a problem and it had to be solved as quickly as possible, because Sovok would soon become a toddler and, God forbid, he would then have to be taken back to first grade. In addition, the country will be left without an experienced ruler, besides Raska. At this time, in a completely different country, another German was sitting at a small white table. He sipped his coffee, looking at the laptop screen and occasionally scratching the area around his eyes, lifting his glasses. The guy has been working a lot lately, because there was no conditional ruler in the country. The father, or rather the Third Reich, suddenly disappeared without even calling his son and telling him to look after the country. As a result, the poor fellow had to quickly pack his things for a meeting of other countries. Some of those present were surprised by such a sudden appearance of the ruler's son, to which he replied that the gypsies stole his father. Germany looked at the bright rays of the sun that made their way through the blinds. He winced unpleasantly. The air had been dry since the beginning of the day, so I wanted to open the window and let in the pleasant frosty freshness, but given that the German was in poor health and was too worried about this, he simply didn’t do that. Germany finishes typing the paragraph in the editor and doesn’t have time to save it when suddenly the phone rings. The phone vibrates unpleasantly in the guy’s pocket and floods familiar melody. The bespectacled man takes it out and sees a number signed as “Russia”. Quietly exclaims: “-oh, mein Gott” (Oh, God). And he runs his finger across the screen, remembering an old friend. G: -russland! du bist es! - Germany exclaimed, nervously clutching the phone. - Do you know what happened to my father? Russia hesitated. He listened to the younger man’s tone and said: R: -I think so. He is now with me and my father. Herman, you understand genetics, right? G: -Of course! Wait, Russia, you don’t want to say that something happened to him at the level of such a complex science as genetics! Herrgott nochmal! - Germany said in one breath. He's been quite nervous lately, it's a no brainer why. R: -No, friend. Something happened to my father. I hope you will do a favor and help us with him? Germany frowned. What could it be that Russia dared to call a person whose country has very highly developed medicine, as well as genetics. Various thoughts visited him. G: -Can we meet? Somewhere, I might even fly to you, meine Götter! R: -Yes, I think it’s possible. We need to talk face to face, without fathers, you know?