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| Is this Message Really Lost in Translation This Time? |
Answer: Pooh-Tin
(Get it? Like as in Winnie the Pooh bear).
Caption Reads: Is this Message Really
Lost in Translation This Time?
Copyright (C) 2016 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved.
Showing posts with label Russian Spies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Russian Spies. Show all posts
Russian President Putin and the Fancy Bears' Global Hacker Team Joke #1
(Get it? Like as in Winnie the Pooh bear).
Caption Reads: Is this Message Really
Lost in Translation This Time?
Copyright (C) 2016 by Robert W. Armijo. All rights reserved.
Dr. Evil Implicated in ‘Starbucks’ Russian Spy Ring
Washington, D.C. --Dr. Evil quickly denied any involvement in the Russian spy ring that operated unbeknownst to all out of the trendy ‘Starbucks’ café franchise in Arlington County, Virginia, insisting that he is guilty only of being a major stockholder in the coffee corporation.
“I’ve renounced my evil ways,” said Dr. Evil from his lair inside the Seattle Space Needle, overlooking the emerald city of the Pacific Northwest.
Dr. Evil referred reporters to an earlier press release in which he had previously announced his retirement from the evil profession, however no one knew what the hair follicle challenged mastermind of doom and despair was talking about.
“None of you got the memo I sent out?” asked Dr. Evil as he stroked his hairless pussycat from his black leather chair. “You know, the one where I, the most evil villain of all time. The Freddy Krueger from your nightmares on Saint Elmo’s Street. America’s most wanted desperado announced that he was calling it quits? No? No one?”
Just then ‘Number Two’, Dr. evil’s chief assistant, leaned over Dr. Evil’s chair, tapping him on his shoulder.
“They said no, Dr. Evil,” said Number Two.
“Right,” said Dr. Evil.
Dr. Evil then arose up out of his chair, walking over to a ‘Starbucks’ coffee outlet kiosk conveniently situated in his evil den and coming soon to a location near you.
As ‘Mini-Me’, Dr. Evil’s three-foot clone, dressed up as a Barista served him a cappuccino double espresso with a twist of lime, Dr. Evil began telling his story.
“You see the reason I retired from evil is quite simple really,” said Dr. Evil as he looked up from his coffee cup, holding it with both hands as he spoke in between sips. “There’s just too much competition out there today. I mean with your banksters, Wall Street’s Super Sonic Hedge Hog fund investors and BPs and all. Tell me who in the hell can compete with [BLEEP] that? I knew I couldn’t. So I decided it was time for me to leave the business. That’s all. No biggy.”
Dr. Evil now claims he is just an average American billionaire who owns shares in a major corporation.
“Now I just lounge around killing time instead of people,” said Dr. Evil. “While waiting for my dividend checks to arrive in the mail. So I can cash them down at the neighborhood liquor store. And buy some 40-ouncers for the homies.”
After returning to his black leather chair, Dr. Evil continued.
“So you see ladies and gentlemen,” said Dr. Evil as he resumed petting his cat. “I have no interest in international espionage. In fact, I haven’t done an evil thing since my retirement. Not unless you count voting Republican in the last election.”
As Dr. Evil turned around his chair with his back to reporters, he asked to be excused.
“Now if you will all be so kind as to excuse me, I have a flight to South Africa to catch,” said Dr. Evil. “You see I have a few more elimination matches to referee in the World Cup before the big game.”
With that, Dr. Evil began to laugh in a sinister manner.
Later, aboard an international flight headed for South Africa…
“Sinister is not evil,” argued Dr. Evil over the phone with a writer from ‘Rolling Stone’ magazine, as fellow passengers peered over their seats, trying to see what the commotion was all about. “It’s just sinister…Okay granted, maybe it’s just a little evil, but that’s off the record…Come on man give me a [BLEEP] break here…Print that and I’ll sue. I won’t stand for you doing me like you did that fine general…Oh, never mind. It’s too [BLEEP] late for suing…That’s right you heard me you mother [BLEEP]…Why is it too late for suing? Because I’m going to [BLEEP] liquidate you, like magma.”
After hanging up the phone, Dr. Evil ordered a non-alcoholic drink and tilted his airline seat all the way back to the full recline position.
“Okay,” Dr. Evil sighed to himself as he closed his eyes, taking sips out of a straw from his fruit drink with a tiny umbrella in it. All the while, mentally plotting the demise of the ‘Rolling Stone’ writer. “Looks like Dr. Evil is back in [BLEEP] business.”
Copyright © 2008-2010 by Robert W. Armijo
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