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Part 1. The Gallant Knight
Once there lived a knight—gallant George,
A fine man in every way.
He lived in a Castle—without a care,
Drinking whiskey by the bucketful,
He loved to ride his horse,
Falling about fifteen times a day.
Such a handsome fellow
Had a wife to match—
The kind one could only dream of.
The woman's name was Laura,
And she was the pillar
For her husband in every endeavor—
Such is a woman's calling.
One day the knight thought:
"I'm tired of having fun,
I must go to war immediately!
Gather, my host!
To beat and thrash the terrorists!"
Everyone rushed to the slogan,
Tossing their bonnets into the air,
Glorifying George loudly.
George did not remain silent,
He gave a speech and in it confessed:
"I sleep at night—the enemy creeps,
Loudly and noisily he chews
A delicious, fatty sandwich.
I rise, dressed in armor—
The song of terror is sung!
I creep up to him quietly,
Let him not know of me,
I approach him from behind,
I feel he's carrying pancakes.
The theft outraged me—
I honored the enemy with my sword.
I looked—it was the captain of the guard...
And that is why we all
Must beat the terrorists."
They applauded standing up,
What else to do—the knight was right.
Laura soberly adds:
"That's all true. But who knows
Where to look for the terrorists?"
The host fell silent instantly.
Then an old mage approaches,
Clearly no fool to everyone:
"There is one country in the world,
Dominion does not shine for it,
But a terrible ruler lives there—
An evil and vile enemy—Saddam!
He welcomes terrorists,
Violates the rights of 'Georges',
Extracts plenty of oil,
There's a whole mountain of oil there—
It's time to share!"
The host screamed terribly:
"The terrorists must be thrashed!"
"It's decided," George replied,
Looking like a hero.
He was a fine man in every way...
Regards, Draco
Added 2 minutes later
Part 2. The Gallant Knight: The End.
Once there lived a knight—gallant George,
He looked like a hero,
Unfortunately not for long—
The road led to the terrorists...
The backstory is as follows:
He drank whiskey while resting,
So much so that he couldn't speak,
And decided that he was a god!
A god cannot drink and eat,
A god must wage war—
The thought came from nowhere...
Fortunately, it all passed by morning,
Only a feeling remained,
Like a persistent song
It spun in his head,
Like it had locked into a ditch,
Meaning, it snapped its chain:
"I will not drink anymore!"—
Suddenly, a lucky thought occurred...
He stepped outside the gates gloomy:
"What's left? Running?"—
He collapsed into the snowdrifts.
"Or maybe sunbathing?"—
He was still drunk, apparently!
"No, I will wage war!",
And he summoned his host...
That is the backstory,
Well, for those who don't know,
I send you to Part One.
Whoever wants to know more
Must read that first...
A great crowd gathered,
They all sat by the road,
Repeating the old slogan:
"Beat and thrash the terrorists,"
And they went to take Saddam.
But Saddam is no simple
Fellow with a beard—
He has a camo suit,
He is only glad to fight.
In his long robe
He began to look like a Bedouin,
Thinking he would frighten,
Break the enemy's will,
Terrorists would rule
This world forever,
Yes, yes to global evil!
So thought the evil Saddam,
In the evil country where he ruled alone.
He didn't spend long pondering:
He gathered a terrible army...
On the battlefield they met,
Two villains, two heroes,
Standing and looking death in the face,
Waiting for a happy end,
Two handsome darlings.
The army, the host fight somewhere,
And it rushes along with the wind:
Screams of pain, sounds of fights,
Someone's exclamation, a loud fuck,
The clashing of sharp rapiers
(Oh, sorry, not that here—
The thud of bullets in the enemy's vest).
In short, a brutal game...
And they stand face to face,
As if to be led to the altar now,
Waiting for this to begin...
Summer crawls by quietly...
It is no longer carried by the wind...
And the poet's patience
Dries up with every day.
Pretending a stump is a stump!
Then, of course, the stumps rose up,
Suggested a few words to me,
But I won't write them,
Lest I get banned again!..
"Hey, surrender, enemy Saddam!
I'll give you a candy—
You'll live, sucking on it,
And stop grieving!"—
Our gallant knight shouted.
"You're having a stupid dream,
Why? Because you're a fool!
Who would just give away candy like that?"—
The Bedouin answers—
"You are a fool, and there are no reasons
To give away candy!"
"Stop calling me names...
I don't want to play with you..."
"If you don't want to—don't play,
But learn my secret:
I am your father, gallant George,
Don't you see how similar we are?"
Here I'll insert a silent scene.
I'll add a little from myself,
That an Indian soap opera—
Is not the finale at all...
Uncle Vova approaches them,
He puts in his word weightily—
One in the eye, one in the brow:
"Friendship, peace to all, and love...
Prepare the 'Topol-M' for launch!"
And now the story ends:
Uncle Vova didn't miss...
P.S.:
I couldn't write it any other way.
Let this be a patch
That fixes the bugs in the world.
And here the satire ends...
Regards, Draco