THE PRIME MINISTERS

After the preview, Lenny loitered at the bar nursing a Harvey Wallbanger.  He watched the Italian film, Il Postino and had a craving for Galliano.  He had to instruct the bartender on how to make it.  He was looking around the room looking for Alice.  He spotted her near the quartet speaking with Michael Archer after all. You could tell the guy was into her the way he ogled her.  He couldn’t blame him.  Just then the Prime Minister from Croatia approached the bar.

“Ka ko si,”   the Prime Minister said to Lenny.

“I’m sorry?” he replied.

“Oh, yes, I keep forgetting to speak English.  That means ‘how are you’ in Croatian.

“I’m just fine. And you, Sir?”

“Please. Call me Babic.” he instructed Lenny.

“I’m Lenny,” he said putting out his hand.

“I quite enjoyed myself at Digital Universe.  It was magnificent.  Mayor Johnson and his wife have been very hospitable. I had dinner at his mansion last night and discussed the beaches of my country and which they should visit..”

“I see.” Lenny replied.

The Prime Minister of Serbia walked over and ordered a vodka martini shaken with three maraschino cherries.  He turned to Babic and grimaced.

“Babic,”  he said in way of greeting.

“Radic,” he replied.

“I see the national zoo has issued passports to their runt mules,” Babic said to Radic.

“I see it is feeding time at the troughs for limp-humped camels ,” Radic replied.

“Speaking of camel toes, how is your sister?” Babic said.

“She was telling me how Croatian National Kresla is too small for the buns,” Radic retorted.

“Ah, sirs…” Lenny interjected.

“My apologies, Lenny” Babic said to him. “Radic and I have attended college together.  He used his education for evil.”

“Babic, your ancestry is full of thieves and fornicators,” Radic replied.

“Your mother has breath as foul as a constipated lame Sherpa whose pyatna was cleft by a three-legged yak on her son’s birthday ,” Babic retorted.

“Your mother has an ulicha the size of Uzbekistan and has the odor of steaming ordures in the slums of Zamboanga in rainy season.” Radic replied.

“Your dog is a mongrel wombat,” Babic said.

Radic’s eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head.  He gasped loudly, and clutched the bar and held on, appalled by what he just heard. “You would insult a man’s dog,” he exclaimed. “I knew you were a contemptible man, but this is unacceptable.  There is nothing more despicable than a man who would insult another man’s dog.  If we were not on American soil I would challenge you to a duel.”

“Radic, I accept your duel.  I will let you know when it is convenient because my Tibetan Mastiff’s birthday is coming up.  A gift from a Shaolin breeder.  We are having a soiree for him, you see.”

Radic just squinted his eyes at him.  His dog was a stray with dubious pedigree after all. Definitely a mutt, alas.  But he would defend little Bozic’s honor no matter what.

“Lenny.”  Babic stated and took the last sip of his drink and walked away, not without chirping a word to Radic over his shoulder, evidently a profanity.

“That man is as useless as a castrated toad. So. Forgive me for being rude. I am Radic.” he said shaking Lenny’s hand. “In my country we also have what can pass for a planetarium.  It is an arena with a retractable roof that we open at the time of a blue moon.”

“That sounds splendid, Radic.”  Lenny said.

“I am thoroughly enjoying myself in your country. I have encountered this expandable garden hose. My wife has a garden, you see.  We grow hybrids of cucumber and cassava, and guava and gherkins.  They are used in rare Serbian stews. My wife studied Horticulture at the University of Croatia.  That was before the revolution.”

“That sounds interesting,” Lenny replied.

“I understand you can see the Northern Lights at this time of year.  Why don’t we go to the terrace and you can show me.”

“Alright, Radic”  he said.

They passed the buffet table and went out on the terrace.  It was a mild night for a February evening.  The sky was lit with the phosphorescence of of the aurora borealis.  it had the fluorescent spectrum of blues and greens and purples spiraling down behind the mountains and blanketing the horizon with unearthly luminescence.  There’s no other way to describe it. Radic had to see it for himself. It was breathtaking.  Photographs wouldn’t do it justice.

“Lenny, I have a niece that came with me.  I want you to show her around.  Her name is Serena.  She is thirty and a virgin. The family pities her for not being married by now.  Would you do that for me?”

“Sure, I’ll show her around.” he said, surprised.

“Good. Where do you live?  I will send a car for you  tomorrow.”

“I live at 666 Eval Kineival Circle.  Do you need directions?”

“That won’t be necessary. My man knows where that is.”

“What time should I be ready?”

“Be ready at six thirty.  My driver will take you back to the embassy and we shall dine there before you take her out.”

“Okay, sir. That will be just fine.”

“Very well. And please, call me Radic. I will see you tomorrow.”  With that he left the bar and made his way to Dick and Jane.