Gorbachef

 

Somewhere on the outskirts of a decaying dictatorship exists a rather notorious diner, The People’s Diner, run by the infamous Gorbachef. But people out here don’t come for the food, they come for the people. Here’s how the end of the establishment played out in the fall of 1989.

“Excuse me, chev, but the sauce on burner 6 is starting to melt down. What should I do?”

“Do nothing. For every action, there is an equal and opposite inaction.” 

“Thanks, chev. Will do. Or I guess, won’t do is more like it. Can I still borrow your spoon though?”

“You don’t need a spoon to not stir, do you?”

“I guess I don’t.”

“Thanks, chev.” 

Gorbachef walked through the kitchen, checking on each of his underlings. He returned to his station but couldn’t find the only utensil he held dear.

“Chevs, where’s my sickle? Has someone seen my sickle?”

“We sold it last week to the utility guy. They were threatening to shut off the power.” 

“Thanks, chevs. Why are our fountain drinks in plastic bags and where is my stockpile of imported West German straws?”

“We live in a glassless society and our connection revolted. He said something about solidarity and refused to replace the broken beer steins.” 

“And you expect people to drink out of plastic bags, chev?”

“Our comrades did it during the Great War.”

“Thanks, chev. When are we opening tonight?”

“Nyet for a few hours. Anyone hungry?”

“Extremely.”

Gorbachef sat at the head of the table. It was time for the family meal, where they would all gather together for a little get-together before the huddled diners. 

“Why is there nothing on my, chev?”

“Oh, I forgot to mention. We’re out of food, so I decided to mix things up a little. This is what you’d call the famine meal.”

“Right. Thanks, chev. How’s dessert coming?”

“You mean the Berliner Wall? A doughy fortification we used to insulate the attic last winter?”

“Yes, chev, that dessert got a little moldy and the health apparatchik told me we had to tear down that wall…of baked goods. My hands were tied. Quit literally. There was ample twine in the supply closet.”

“The good news is that without any food, there won’t be any more unexpected purges.”

“That’s certainly one way to look at it, chev. At least there’s a bread line outside, which mean it’s almost time to open. Are we good to go?”

“Looks like we’re pretty low on gas.”

“Thanks, chev.”