The Russian Presidentess

[JVega]

A silly little disclaimer: This is my first AAR ever. I've been a fan of many, many random AARs from all the Paradox games, and I've been wanting to write one of my own for a long time now. I made a failed attempt at a serious post-apocalyptic one, but that never got posted, and I made a second half-serious attempt at a German AAR, but frankly, it stank. This is my third try, and the first one to be posted on this forum.

My writing is heavily influenced by the writers that I look up to the most on these forums, although I will do my best not to actually imitate or rip-off any of their work.

I apologize if the following story is crap and thank all that read it!

The Russian Presidentess

Rostov, January 1st, 1926



Raisa’s tear filled eyes stared helplessly down the road, her dirty old ragdoll hanging limply from an equally dirty child’s hand. The horror of it all had stunned her, left her standing there dead in her tracks, her eyes wide open from shock and the sheer and utter terror. She could feel her heart sink deep into her hollow feeling chest, and her brain shutting down in hopeless denial. It couldn’t be.

It couldn’t be!

The Swiss chocolate store had been closed for good, the kind old owner dead from his chocolate-allergy. After all these years, he had succumbed to the need to feast upon the wonderful brown delicacy, and got himself killed in the process. This may or may not have been caused by him being scared by something ghastly and/or ghostly. Of course little Raisa cared little for the old man, she cared for the chocolate. The now only living in her dreams chocolate.

The store had been replaced over night, by a horror even greater. A Bulgarian banitsa stand. A bad one at that, serving only low quality banitsas with icky questionable fillings, which tasted curiously of ratmeat. (Ed: Not that the author would know how ratmeat tastes like, I swear.)

“Cheap nasty tasting banitsas here! The worst icky questionable fillings at the lowest price! Buy two banitsas and geat a mystery banitsa for free! Does the filling come from the high-quality slaughterhouses of Albania, or your sewers? You don’t know! Come one, come all!”

Between making small noises of distaste and unhappiness, the little girl made a serious promise to herself, a vow; “One day, I’ll be the Presidentess of Russia, and I’m going to beat up Bulgaria and make Switzerland into my own personal chocolate factory!”

An ominious thunder split the sky.

It might be worth noting that the thunder was not ominious because of Raisa’s promise, but because at that moment a group of four teenagers entered a dark, scary mansion at the otherside of town.

Also worth noting was that the reason why it was scary was that supposedly it was haunted by a ghastly ghost of a long dead ghoul named Guy MacGyver.

Not really worth noting was that it wasn’t really a ghost, but a Bulgarian in a ghost suit, trying to scare the Swiss chocolate salesmen and the Turks out of town. It would all have worked out perfectly if it weren’t for those meddling kids.


....



Moscow, exactly eight years later. (January 1st, 1934)

Raisa sat uncomfortably on a bench, placed infront of a statue of Lenin. She had been working hard for the last eight years, working since she was just ten years old towards her goal, and finally she was about to make the first step towards actually making her dreams come true.

Beside her sat Iustinian, her loyal advisor, friend and obligatory intelligent person. Whereas Raisa’s spirits were so high she could regen from 0 to 300 in a second, he himself found himself quite depressed. For some reason, his friend had managed to talk him into coming with her to Moscow so she could run for presidency, no matter the fact that Russia was pretty darn Communist and happy(-or-else) with having Stalin in charge.

Raisa took a deep breath, then looked at Iustinian with a big, wide grin. “I can’t wait ‘til I’m queen!”

“What?” He blinked, looking up at her with a confused expression. “I thought you wanted to be a presidentess.”

“Oh.” She hesitated, thought, then nodded with a bigger, wider grinner. “I can’t wait ‘til I’m presidentess!”

“I can,” muttered Iustinian to himself.

Happily ignorant, Raisa jumped to her feet and grabbed Iustinian’s scarf, pulled him up with her and choked him for a moment as she pointed upwards to Lenin.

“One day they’ll make a statue like that! Of me! Just... minus the beard. And some hair. And much, much more fashionable, in a friendlier pose that’s more of a “Vote for me!” rather than, “I vote not for you guys.”. It’ll be great!”

Iustinian eagerly agreed with her by making a series of choking sounds.

“Oh.” She let go of his scarf, letting the poor fellow breathe. “Yeah, uh. Sorry about that.” She smiled apologetically.

“S’okay,” Iustinian wheezed pathetically, rubbing his throat as he stood up straight again. “I saw and had it coming. Since you are obviously the comically stupid leader-to-be, I gotta be the smart depressed advisor type.”

She stares at him cluelessly.

“Look, from my experience of reading comedic AARs there’s almost always a stupid ruler and a smart, depressed advisor that gets confused, annoyed, humiliated and abused.” He fixed his scarf to make his point clear. “I’ve been preparing myself. I figured that being the advisor gives me the second largest role in this AAR, and thus the second best chance to become famous on the forums.”

Raisa tilts her head, watching him blankly like a puppy trying to understand why E equals MC squared.

Iustinian sighed, and suddenly Raisa squeeked with glee and gave him a big hug, “I know what you need to cheer you up! A ‘Vote for Raisa’ t-shirt!”

Iustinian rolled his eyes and prayed to whatever gods that would listen that in the end he too could become a big enough celebrity to make this all worth it.





To be the continueds...

[Pacer]

oooooooooooh k

[anonymous4401]

All right! A fourth-wall breaker!

[VILenin]

Great opener! I was all set up for serious tale of loss and woe when the comedy hit me like a pie in the face. And the scoobie-doo joke was great. Curse those meddling kids!

[JVega]

January 1st, 1934, Moscow.


The footsteps of two pairs of feet ecchoed through the empty halls of the government office building. The place was empty, shoddy and downtrodden, housing only two old men, the chairs they sat upon and a desk that was laid out infront of them. Approaching the men were Raisa and Iustinian, the first skipping gleefully, whereas the latter tries to hide his embarassing new ‘Vote for Pedro’ t-shirt. They were all out on Raisa t-shirts, so this one had to do.

One of the old officials looks up from the desk, while the other’s attention is still locked on a drop of drying paint. “Wha? Whuzzis? This place is closed!”

“We’re here to open it again!”, claims Raisa excitedly. “I’m gonna run for presidentessidency! This is a voting place thing, yes?”

The old man stares at her emptily, then lets out an exaggerated sigh, “Yes, yes. Yes it is. From the time that Russia was a democracy, sixty-seven years ago, and that lasted only for ...what? Fifteen minutes?”

“BEEN ‘ERE EVER SINCE!”, sobs the second old man. The excitement of the drying paint has taken a toll on his nerves, it seems.

“Point is, you can’t run for... presidency. We don’t have presidents. We don’t vote. See how this works?”

“What?” Raisa’s glee suddenly vanishes, and is replaced with a childish pout. “No way. Just because we’re Stalinist, doesn’t mean we can’t have democratic elections!”

“But, it means exactly that!”, explains the annoyed Iustinian, much to the joy of the first old man.

“Indeed. I’m glad that at least your friend has sense in his head.”

“Now hold on just a second!” Raisa turns to the second old man, “You! What exactly is our government?”

For a second, he manages to tear his eyes from the drying paint, only to be turned to the ground in thought. A moment passes, before he reaches underneath his seat and pulls out what looks like a top of the line gaming laptop, opens it up, makes a few clicking-clacking on the keyboard, then turns the screen to Raisa. What is revealed is the diplomacy screen of HoI2, showing that the Soviet Russia is a left-extremist authoritarian country, or ‘Stalinist’.

Raisa inspects the screen, then reaches out and click-clacks on the keyboard herself. Suddenly a shriek can be heard outside, followed by some one crying out; “FREEDOM!”.

“Ha-HAH! There!” She turns the laptop around, showing it to the old man. “We’re now Market Liberal. Booya! I now wish to officially run for presidentessency.”

The two men look at each other, scratch their heads, then are suddenly filled with joy and glee and happy. “Right! Elections are to be held on January the 1st in 1935. That gives you about one year to run your campaign. Best of luck, Miss Raisa.”

They shake her hand, then watch her and Iustinian exit the building. Raisa’s happy of course, while Iustinian tries to make himself feel better, knowing that Raisa’s presidency can’t possibly last longer than 1947, and that’s... what? 11 years of his life? “... I better get famous for this.”

A few minutes pass.

The old man closes his laptop, then places it underneath his chair.

A few more minutes pass.

Finally, the first old man looks at the latter, “Wait. Wait. Whoa. Hold on. Just... hold on a bloody second. Where did you get that!? And ... and what IS that!?”

The latter looks up, his face flushed as he tries to think up a logical explination.

Even more minutes pass, with the old man sweating underneath the steady inquisitionary glare of his college.

“... eBay?”

“Okay. Makes sense to me.”



...



Later that night, Iustinian picks up his diary and starts writing.

January 1st, 1934, Moscow.

Mood: Melancholy.
Listening to: Only my deepest, darkest thoughts ;_;

I don’t know how much more of this I can stand. Everybody around me is insane. Am I the only one that can see how stupid all of this is? I don’t even know why I bother! I don’t even know why I write this, nobody ever wants to read my diary. Not even Raisa tries to read it. What’s the pointof writing if nobody will read!? I wrote a poem about it. I’d write it in here if anybody would care. *tear*

Yours in darkness
Iustinian the soon to be famous.

2 B kontinued,,,,,,,,,,,






Pacer,
K! K!!

anonymous4401,
To smithereens! (Did this story even have one to begin with?)

VILenin,
Thank you! I'm glad that you liked it.

[anonymous4401]

Vote for Pedro!

The freedom cheat and blogging... Just great!

Ah, the comedy AARs are coming out of the woodwork these days..

[JVega]

Originally Posted by anonymous4401

Vote for Pedro!

The freedom cheat and blogging... Just great!

Ah, the comedy AARs are coming out of the woodwork these days..

I'm sure that answers all of your questions!


Y'know.

The questions you asked.

[anonymous4401]

I see the influences of a lot of other comedy AARs in your work. With your lastest post you have shown another facet.

Now you have to start treating your readers like children, slaves, or both!