Peter Pišťanek - The End of Freddy

This was typical of the Slovak ruling class’s unerring diplomatic incompetence. After practically every West European country, including Hungary, but not so far the Czechs, had unilaterally introduced a visa regime for Slovaks, it was a sure way of losing the Czechs’ good will, which was based on sentiment.

“Shit!” Urban laughs in despair. “And I voted for those pricks!”

Urban is not amazed. He’d be surprised if the corrupt Slovak government behaved in any other way. Even his anger has an element of resignation and a kind of gallows humour about it. He can see it clearly: we’ll screw things up with the Czechs as well. The borders will close and we’ll need a visa even for a trip to Brno. But until then, he’ll be on the other side of the border. When the iron curtain comes down between Slovakia and the Czech state, Urban will already be in Prague. If only Freddy Piggybank weren’t such a dimwit, they could move the whole company to Prague and just laugh it off. Business in Prague is done differently; life’s much better there, too.

In the tabloid Plus 7 Days he reads some geographical and surprising demographic facts about Junja:

The Junjan Khanate is spread over four large and fifteen small islands. The central island is called Ögdbaardd and has two towns: Űŕģüllpoļ ( its international name, in Junjan the name is Űŕģüll-khan-khalla: the city of Khan Űŕģüll), which is the capital, and Ćmirçăpoļ (Ćmirçă-khalla). These are the only two big towns on the islands. They comprise about one fourth of the Junjan population. The rest is spread out in settlements that originated as Soviet fur and fish processing plants. Other large islands are called Kerky źž mm, Külüú and Mgdräag. The Junjans are of unknown origin, but their language suggests they are descendants of the original Finns and Norwegians interbred with Lapps, Huns, and Tatars. How they got to Junja is a mystery; all that is certain is that this happened in several separate waves around the 12 thcentury.

The Junjan archipelago’s indigenous population was the so-called Inkirinnuit, or People of the North, distant kin of the Chukchi and the Innuit. But the Junjans killed them off. Survivors of these peaceful tribes welcomed Slovak refugees from Junjan slavery and taught them how to survive successfully in the tundra and on the coast. They gradually merged with the Slovaks and vanished as an ethnic group. This is why so many Junjan Slovak men and women even today look quite exotic.

Officially, the Slovaks are a national minority, but in reality, thanks to their industriousness and fertility, they have been the majority for quite some time. About a quarter of the Junjan Slovaks live in towns, a quarter are nomadic reindeer herders and the rest live in hunting and fishing settlements scattered over the north coast of Öggdbardd and the islands. Although their population is twenty times larger than the Junjan, officially, they are a national minority with no rights. They don’t even have citizenship, let alone representation in the Great Council.

The only thing of interest in Junja from the economic point of view is a special kind of lichen that grows only on some northern islands of the archipelago. For most of the world’s leading producers of perfume this lichen is indispensable. If Junja stopped exporting lichen, it would lead to a crisis in the perfume industry and most famous brand names would cease to exist or would lose their famous quality.

Amnesty International and other human rights organizations regularly protest against the Junjan monopoly, because, according to uncorroborated information, slaves imprisoned in labour camps harvest the lichen. Hitherto, protests and demonstrations appeared to be organized and financed by the competition: purveyors of lower quality lichen.

Junja is also notorious as the origin of a criminal organization, the infamous Junjan mafia, who operate in countries of Central and Eastern Europe, and whose ruthlessness and unparalleled cruelty oust other notorious criminal organizations from Ukraine, Chechnya or Kosovo.

Urban also met at a party an old acquaintance from his time in politics. This man still worked as a government official in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. He told Urban a lot of funny stories. Okhlann Üncmüñć’s visit to Slovakia, for example, was full of amusing events.

After his speech to parliament, the Chairman of the Great Council stopped by the automatic coffee machine in the hall. “ Ündzzmardźž !?” (“What’s this?”) he asked his bodyguards. Nobody knew.

The Slovak Prime Minister worked out what the guest was asking and hastily replied. “An automatic coffee machine,” he said. His interpreter translated it into Russian, which Okhlann Üncmüñć luckily understood slightly. “ Kazhetsya avtomatt? ” asked the guest of honour in Russian, both hands miming the firing of a machine gun. “ Na kofye? ”

The Slovak Prime Minister shook his head. “ Nyet, ” he said. For Junjans shaking one’s head is a sign of agreement. The obvious contradiction between what the Slovak Prime Minister said and did put Okhlann Üncmüñć in a grim mood. He fixed his slanted eyes on the liar. “ Nu vot kak (Well, then) ?” he asked impatiently. Without explaining, the Slovak Prime Minister took a plastic cup, put it in the machine, and pushed a button marked: COFFEE WITH MILK. Before the amazed Chairman of the Supreme Council and his bodyguards, the Prime Minister stirred his hot refreshment with a wooden stick and drank it.

That was all Okhlann Üncmüñć needed to know. He went for the automatic coffee machine with the determination of a citizen of a country where every morsel of food is a struggle. In a flash, he learned how to work the machine, and drank cup after cup. He handed used plastic cups to his underlings who piled them up and put them away in plastic bags. As he drank, Okhlann Üncmüñć irritably gestured at them to go and pick cups from the nearby rubbish bins, too. After all, plastic cups are among the most precious possessions in Junja.

The whole programme of the visit was in ruins, drowned by innumerable cups of milky coffee and hot chocolate.

Okhlann Üncmüñć was a bottomless vessel. He drank without a pause, with grim determination. Not even monstrous stomach rumbles, coming from under the Junjan statesman’s badly made jacket, could change his resolve to drink the machine’s entire contents. He achieved this after an hour and a half. Then, belching and rolling his eyes, Okhlann Üncmüñć continued the friendly visit according to protocol.

At the end of the friendly visit, the Slovak Prime Minister and the Chairman of the Supreme Council signed an agreement on mutual cultural and economic help.

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WILD THINGS: The best of Freddy Vision Vol. 2.

Length: 120 minutes.

Porn king Freddy of Freddy Vision offers us in the second volume of this instalment of ”The Best of…” a sample of four unusually rough and perverse short films. In the first one, a young boy and his two girl friends hiking in the mountains witness strange goings-on. In the mountains they find a semi-naked blonde left hanging head down by a thick rope. What’s it all about? Then, right behind their backs they hear the heavy breathing of a modern slave driver about to stop his victim being rescued. The supposedly hanging girl tortures the boy; both girls are bound, whipped and raped. The film’s ending will please all admirers of group scenes of bondage featuring naked young girls and a boy. In the second story, two mysterious masked bandits grab a young girl in a school. The evildoers are not as interested in getting maths lessons as in sadistically outraging the young girl’s body. Bondage, clothes pegs on their breasts, spanking with a whip and sticks, impalement on a huge vibrator are all part of the programme in a musty underground cell devised by these two madmen full of hatred of women, especially of young girls. The third story takes place on a luxury ranch — a ranch of human animals, a farm where women are treated as horses. In this exciting performance, we witness very unusual dressage of beautifully developed women-mares, humiliation where every wrong step is punished with a long whip. Five girls gradually change before our eyes into absolute slaves, obedient animals bereft of all vestiges of human will and dignity. The fourth story is about a young thief who breaks into a flat. Unfortunately, the flat belongs to a sadistic dominatrix who catches him in the act and decides in her own way to stop him doing similar things in future by beating it out of his head, and his body. There are unique shots of burning and crushing of testicles, fist in the anus, and hanging on hooks through pierced nipples.