Dear Federal Republic of Germany,

Thank you for introducing me to your brother all those years ago and for betraying me at the end of the Second World War, if you hadn't, Gilbert wouldn't be in my possession right now. I won't bore you with all the reasons I am grateful for having him, but I will tell you this; I simply adore his free spirit. It seems like whatever I do to him, beatings, imprisonment, and even rape, have very little effect on his determination to see you again.

You're not going to believe this, but I showed him how to escape once.

It was a very stressful week and I was tired of chasing after him when he constantly tried to escape so, I cuffed him and threw him into a car. I pointed out the hundreds of kilometers he would have to travel in the snow to get to Berlin and making sure to point out every armed checkpoint he'd have to cross where he'd surely he arrested. I even went as far as to take him to the Berlin Wall, explaining how tall it was, how sharp the razor wire was, and how many rounds the guard's machine guns could fire in a minute. German Democratic Republic even agreed with me that any chance of escaping was completely hopeless and you're not going to believe the next part, even today I'm amazed by it.

He smiled at me and took off running towards the border!

I ask you, what sane man would do such a thing?

Of course the guards then opened fire at him until there was almost nothing left that resembled human, but the courage it took to run at the face of death! The doctors and I were so surprised to see that he was still breathing after that. It took almost a year's worth of surgery to put him back together and even then he is still dead-set on seeing you again.

As I am writing this letter I can see him in the kitchen, pondering the best way to poison me without accidentally murdering one of my other servants. I admire that.

Your brother has such a beautiful body, doesn't he? I would love to have him in my bed, all it would take would be a little obedience training and he would easily become my favorite.

Forgive me if I seem rude, but I have to ask, did you ever sleep with him when he was your territory?

The only reason I ask you this is because sometimes during sex, he'll scream your name in the most delicious of ways.

I'm so jealous of you! You should see the way he reacts when I slick my hair and dress like you when I take him, it's so precious. He'll moan things like "West", "Bruderlein", or other odd things in German. What does "Bruderlein" mean anyway? He told me it meant "Brother dear" or something like that, but I can't trust a word of what he says.

I think he has chosen his poison now, excuse me, I have to punish him now and all this talk of him moaning like a woman has made me frisky.

With much love, Union of Soviet Socialist Republics.

Ivan Braginski