The Phantom Thespian Writer...
Below are the last known words of one of the most prominent figures in my movement. His name was Fred Brezhnev. His last known location was the forbidden sector of C-block where he was writing subversive material on the subject of not very much at all of relevance to man or grunt. Below are the last words in a letter format...
Dear fellow Thespians,
I represent a company which indulges in the policy of asparagus eating for the over 50s. This policy has so far met with little support. I therefore feel compelled to ask you for four shillings and sixpence to repair the mental damage caused to me. I have many policies that I feel sure will bring those patriotic knees springing off to my office in Hyde Park along with those little old naughty wallets of yours. Another policy is that all Rabis with legs must be shot due to their propensity for reproducing all over the place. My friend Mr Hitler asks me to make a special announcement to all the female ears in East Ackton. This bears little relevance to the original intent of this letter but nevermind. Mr. Hitler wishes it to be known that he is open to all female takers, except for mingers...
This young man's end came to him while writing subversive on a non-explodable piece of swiss cheese. He was suddenly interrupted by an old hardline Stalinist Comrade Gleavivich. Fred was acting innocent but could not hide the horrific guilt on his handsome Moldavian face. He was subsequently shot, had the bananas removed from his person and was then asked to leave the country. And now a minute's silence for this great chap...
Right, well that's quite enough of that. What is to be done about Comrade Gleavivich? I suggest that he is demoted to cleaner of the "Electric Keyboard Factory For Indian Incontinents". This place is located in the small village of Dneprodzerzhinsk in the Ukraine. Either that or we could shoot the aformentioned Comrade Gleavivich. I leave this choice up to you, my fine Roman fellows...