A shell splashed into the ground and several limbs were flying around.

"What in Marx' name was that?" said Captain Dumbledov. The military barracks were shattered by the impact, and a huge crater could be seen where Potrovski's office had been.

"I think I'm facing his severed arm right now." said Hagski. "Shut up Hagski, and look for his wife and the rest of his body." commanded Dumbledov, while licking some wodka.

An hour later Hagski was finished. Dumbledov was eating some ransom. "She's dead, I think" said Hagski holding her severed head. Dumbledov was trying to hide his smile. "Now I will be promoted!" he thought.

"And something else" Hagski said. "I found his baby in the wreckage"

Dumbledov was a little shocked by this. "Who the hell would bring a baby with him to national security?!"

"I think we need to handle the boy first." Hagski said, slightly irritated. "What will happen to him?"

"Well, he is probably strong enough to hold a rifle, I think, so let's send him to a military academy."

Hagski protested : "No, no. that stupid (he looked around if nobody was eavesdropping) age limit of Stalin doesn't allow that. You must wait until you're almost a grown man: You must be 11. That is when I had my first baby!"

"Well, I think comrade Stalin is totally awesome." Dumbledov shouted when a general walked by. "Maybe we could let him drive to his uncle and aunt, and there he can wait there until we pick him up for conscription."

"Boys of 1 year old are allowed, but cannot drive a vehicle yet. I will drive him there on my motor... DAMN IT!"

He looked to the place where his motorcycle was been, but saw only a pile of molten metal. "Well... I'll just take the tank then". Hagski threw Potrovski's son into the tank, Hagski got in, the engine roared, and they rode to Potrovski's aunt and uncle, into the sunset.

Harry Potrovski woke up in his luxurious bed in his aunt and uncle's house. He jumped up and looked outside the window. It was a beautiful morning in the beloved motherland. Just seconds after he stood up his aunt Durslov jumped in, made a pirouette and said: "Good morning, my oh so beloved country, and good morning nephew."

He ate his breakfast, consisting of water and dry bread, gleefully, for he knew that this unaffordable for most families.

Then his Uncle Vernonov came in. "What is it?" Harry said, because he looked rather depressed.

"Nothing" he said while throwing a conscription letter into the hearthfire.

"Is that a conscription letter?" Harry asked uncomfortably.

"Listen dear." His aunt exclaimed. "We have to tell you something. When your parents died of COMPLETELY NATURAL CAUSES" He paused for a second while breathing heavily. "A soldier came and threw you through our window. That's why you have that ridiculous scar. He said that in ten years, he would come and pick you up again so you could go to military training. "

"But don't worry Harry. we will just keep burning the letters. and for another security measure, you will be locked up in the bomb cellar." said his uncle.

"Don't worry, my little babushka, we will bring food every day. We'll just wait until you're too old to be conscripted. When you're 40, you may come out of the cellar and get a real education to be whatever you want, as long as Stalin approves it!" His aunt said, trying to be calm.

But it was of no use. A ton of conscription letters later Private Hagski showed up, insulted his aunt and uncle for not answering the letters and shattered the door of the cellar with a rocket from his RPG. And Harry saw the daylight again for the first time in many months.

"I don't want to leave!" He screamed as Private Hagski dragged him away.

"Your parents would have killed you by now, boy." Hagski replied. "After all, they died for this system and would've wanted you to do the same."

"Wait, they were soldiers" Harry gasped. "I thought they died of natural causes!"

Now it was Hagski's turn to look suprised. "Didn't you know? Your parents were very important soldiers in World War II, but an American missile killed them. "

"Why would my aunt and uncle lie to me?" Harry said, puzzled.

"They probably wanted you to get an education" Hagski said with utter disgust in his voice. "Stupid people, your guardians. I'm suprised somebody didn't send them to Siberia already. But it's all history now, Harry, because you're going to Forwarts, the best military academy in the history of Mother Russia. But first we need to pick up the requirements, you know, weapons and stuff. "

They walked to a nearby pub, where everyone was rather intoxicated with magic liquor: Wodka.

"Harry" Hagski said "The secret military shopping mall is located behind this bar, but first we need a drink!" Harry looked at him, confused. "But Hagski, I never drank alcohol before."

Everyone in the bar looked shocked, even the unconscious people. "Harry" Hagski said with a tear in his eye. "What have your aunt and uncle done to you?" A few hours later, when everyone had offered Harry some bottles of wodka, Harry saw a weird guy twitching and looking around rather paranoid.

"Hagski *hick* chwo is zat guy?"

Hagski saw him. "That is captain Squirrel Harry, he was a great soldier once, but now he's suffering from shell shock." Harry laughed. Squirrel eventually limped towards Harry.

"P-P-P-Potrovski." he said, twitching his limbs. "It's an ho-o-o-o-onor to meet the son of my gene-ne-ne-neral. I might be your new teacher in-in-in-indoctrination."

"Yes... Umm... Bye then, comrade." Harry said. He slummed after Hagski to an alley behind the pub. There was nothing but some trash cans and a wall. "Where the heck is the shop?" Harry said.

"It's behind the wall, you just have to blow it up" Hagski said, readying his RPG. A loud bang sounded soon after and the wall exploded. State workers were already building a new one. Harry could now see all the concrete shops.

Soon they went to Olivandrov, the local weapons merchant. "Which gun does the state want me to choose" Harry asked.

"It's different here" Hagski said. "In Soviet Russia, gun chooses you!"

Olivandrov handed Harry a pistol. "This is an m9, 25 centimeters, short range, with a STEEL core!"

Harry took the gun and fired it. It immediately shot out of his hand. Olivandrov caught it and said "Njet, njet, not this one. How 'bout this one, the AK 47, 1 meter, medium/long range, with a STEEL core?"

The same thing happened multiple times over, until Harry chose an extraordinary weapon, the RPG. Olivandrov went bankrupt soon after he fired his first shot.

"Okay Harry, let's get you a nice bulletproof uniform." said Hagski, as they were walking towards the uniform vendor.

"Is it for the academy, sweetie?" said the old, ugly vendor. "I have everything in stock. We're already busy with someone else." Harry was thrown into a room with concrete walls, and he sat down next to another boy of his age. "Hello." The boy said. "You're going to the academy too?"

"Da." said harry.

"I'm called Malvoiski, and you must be the son of Potrovski? My father served under him as a sergeant."

"Wasn't he cleaning the toilet for my father?" Said Harry. "Hagski told me that Malvoiski was such a poor soldier he couldn't even find the trigger on his gun."

"Maybe..." said Malvoiski. "But now your father is DEAD!" He stopped for a minute to laugh in Harry's face. "He is now a general, because he killed ten men with his toilet brush."

"Hagski said he gave comrade Stalin a blowjob." said Harry, laughing at Malvoiski.

"That's not true." Malvoiski stuttered. "He was just uhh...cleaning something".

"Anyway." Harry said. "My dad was higher in rank then yours, and you suck!"

Before Malvoiski could reply, the ugly vendor returned and said: "I'm done, dear." Harry looked down and saw a badass uniform with a bulletproof vest, and even a free bootknife in his boots. "Thank you, miss ugly vendor." Harry responed.

Suddenly Harry realized something.

"But Hagski" Harry exclaimed. "I'll never be able to pay for this!"

"Don't worry Harry, the state will pay the costs." Hagski said, holding his gun tightly. The vendor looked scared.

"Come on, let's leave. The Panzer Express will be leaving shortly."