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Seriously, kancolle isn't mine I swear it be true

In a room somewhere inside the Pentagon, the head admirals of the worlds navies were boasting about their successes. The brand new weapons, known as 'ship-girls', had been an incredible discovery and been proven highly effective against the Abyssal threat.
"Overall, the ship-girl programs within all nations involved have been resounding successes," First Sea Lord Grantham announced with a relieved smile, like a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
"Indeed," Admiral Richardson of the US Navy responded, "Before they came, we were on our knees. Now, thanks to the likes of Enterprise, South Dakota and O'Bannon, we've been able to take back all the territory we lost."
"God has graced us with these frauleins," German Admiral Krause cried out triumphantly, "If only we had twenty Bismarck's! We would win much quicker then."
"Sacre bleu, Krause, calm down."

Meanwhile, Rrrrussian Grand Admiral Gorschkov was looking rather displeased at all the fawning his counterparts were enacting.
"Look at you, blinded by prettiness of girls," he interrupted, a no-nonsense expression worn on his face, "You have your prretty, little girlies, dressed in skimpy clothing, fighting the Abyssals. But I have seen from the videos of them, that they are undisciplined, unprrredictable and even unrrreliable."

The other admirals had gone silent, and were looking at Gorschkov incredulously.
"Says the guy without a single ship-girl in his navy," Richardson mocked. Gorschkov scoffed in response.
"A "ship-girl" in my navy?! You have got to be govnoing me. I'd rrrrrather have a pack of mules fight the Abyssal's than a single ship-girl. Noooo, we Rrrrussian's do not call our ships as women. They are men of the great Rrrrussian Navy. They will drress like proper Rrrrussian sailors and fight like heroes!

"We will have ship-BOYS!"

The other admirals looked on in disbelief, before Admiral Natsumoto spoke up,

"Well, good luck with that."

Murmansk, Mighty Soviet Rrrrussia, Three Weeks Later

"Are they rrrready yet? I have been waiting for HOURS!"
"Patience Admiral," the un-named, nobody who will never be important enough to receive a name assistant replied, "It takes time to turn grreat Rrrussian supplies into grreat Rrrrussian ship-boys. They're both just seconds frrom finish."
"Good. My vodka is almost frrozen. I don't even need ice to celebrrate."

The two massive machines finally clicked to zero, pinging like microwaves.

"They're rrready!" Gorschkov cried in elation, "Unleash the first of our grreat Rrrrussian ship-boys!"

The mighty doors of the devices swung open, lights blazing onto the concrete floor of the warehouse. Gorschkov had his mouth wide open in utter ecstasy at the sight of two boyish silhouettes, cut-out by the lights behind them.

But Gorschkov's wide smile didn't last long. When the lights died down, his lips slowly took a downwards curl at the sight he found before him.

Fresh out of the machines, rigging loaded with guns and torpedoes, dressed in russian sailor shirts, were two girls with short haircuts.

"Gremyashchy, reported for duty once again, for glorious Russia!"
"Sevastopol! My guns itch for combat!"

Gorschkov stood motionless for about 2 straight seconds.

And then he screamed:

CHYOOOORRRTTTTT!