Beyond the Iron Sky

”Krupa Krupa! Q’gcolac GR!”
- Old Plingon proverb about remarkably over-dated means of transportation.

Lt. Dwarf here again!

All hail Emperor Pirk! After spending five hours in a Russian airport, I’m now travelling on an economy-class Russian airplane to Japan, cruising a pathetic few hundred kilometers per hour across the atmosphere. I’m going to make Info pay for this humiliation – a warrior like me, sitting with all these wimps and losers…

Anyway, yesterday was a great day for recruiting. Our propaganda film gathered a nice audience and the recruitment speech worked so well that I ran out of Star Wrecks pretty soon. Other than that, we had a thing called ‘Russian Vodka Party’, where our allies and friends of the great Russian Federation poured a lot of vodka to the glasses of so many people, infiltirating their minds with their ideologies and way of life. Effective method, even so effective I found myself starting to like even more the Russians.

I must admit I also enjoyed some of the vodka, so this morning the hard part was to get to the airport on time. I was feeling pretty un-well and decided to skip the breakfast, but little did I know that I was about to be stuck in Moscow airport for so long. Although in general most of the airports seem to be both huge and well-instructed, this one was small, ugly and instructions on how to get around sucked like a Rigelian sandworm without a bicycle.

I met a fellow traveler, who was also on his way to Japan. With his assistance I was able to find the right gate and the right plane on time, but now I’m a bit worried that my luggage won’t end up to Japan, since I left it a bit strangely somewhere in Copenhagen and although they said it’s gonna end up to right place, I have my fears. I also requested some cultural information about Japan, so I would fit in with these strange human beings in Tokyo. I understood they are very polite, keep to schedules and don’t respect their Emperor. I think I’m going to have some problems there – or, more likely, they have a 100+ kiloes of problem coming their way few hunded kilometers per hour!

There’s not too much to tell right now, I’m stuck on travelling, and will be getting to Tokyo tomorrow morning.

All hail Emperor Pirk!

Lt. Dwarf, signing out.

”Gruhnmhump R’ghoa n’Kho n’Kho!

Gru-’n borgah hoi!”

- An old Plingon proverb, describing what happens to a country that eats sandwiches and drinks green-labeled beer all the time.

Lt. Dwarf reporting in!

Hail the glorious Emperor Pirk! His excellency has sent me on a mission of what he calls Psyfoplophy Warfare. Info keeps on correcting him, that little piece of crap! I wish I could take his metal head between my two hands and tear it off and take a dump into it, and the place the head back in place and call the robot a shithead – which he is, but he always requires me to prove it! No reason to correct what Emperor says, it’s a sign of mutiny and that’s what I can’t stand.

Anyway. Another thing that little piece of shit keeps on doing is complaining about my use of teleporter as a means to get to places. He says we shouldn’t use the secret technology unless extremely necessary, and he doesn’t think Psyfoplophic Warfare isn’t extremely important matter. Well, too bad he makes the decisions when it comes to my travelling, so I was ordered to use the ‘modern transportation means’ for my operation. Aeroplains, buses and trains. What the hell…

I consider myself as an army, and the propaganda film “Star Wreck” as my most lethal weapon. Since when has an army been attacking on a local bus? This is ridiculous!

The first country to attack is Denmark. And what a crappy country this is! Everywhere filth, drunk people begging for cigarettes and trying to sell me drugs, and hookers selling their stuff. Lucky them it’s not my mating season, because they would regret it for the rest of their lives – if they would survive.

As our beloved Emperor is so mingy, and Info obeying every word he says to him – or it – the hotel reserved for me is this one-star joint, built back in the days before computers and as a last surprise, they informed me at the desk that the room wouldn’t have it’s own toilet or shower. Well, little did they know that we Plingon-warriors don’t use showers, and as a small bonus for them, we neither use toilet. So they have a nice little surprise waiting…

So, the event they are showing the propaganda film, and where I’m giving my imperial propaganda speech and recruiting more people to the P-fleet, is called ‘Eurocon’. Don’t know what the place is about, there seems to be many geeks, young and old, talking about outdated technologies from the past. Celebrating about getting to moon and theorizing about the possibility of travelling faster than light… We indeed have a little surprise for this world coming up! I seem to fit in pretty nicely, though, since Info made this great secret outfit for me – a tall, broad-shouldered handsome muscular, a bit darkish guy, a real warrior! Ok, have to admit the suit had to be a bit bigger than me, so he looks like an overweight geek with a mohawk, but what the hell!

I wish I could kill all of these bastards and eat their babies for breakfast, but I must hesitate and focus on the mission at hand. First, Info said, you need to recruit people from all of these countries around Russia, and after that we could start shooting everybody not agreeing with the Emperor. I don’t like waiting around, we are losing the initiative here.

Well, I’d better get ready to start recruiting. All hail Emperor Pirk!

Lt. Dwarf, signing out.