Rowiet Kyo to the Gao-Sotoan Government!
O Chojo, Gao-Sotoan demon and damned devil's kith and kin, secretary to Lucifer himself. What the devil kind of man are thou, that canst not slay a hedgehog with your naked a**? The devil s**ts, and your army eats. Thou shalt not, thou son of a whore, make subjects of Communist sons. We have no fear of your army; by land and by sea we will battle with thee. F**k thy mother.
Thou Idowan scullion, Kienist wheelwright, brewer of Kamakura, goat-f**ker of Syakusen, swineherd of Greater and Lesser Gao-Soto, pig of Dovani, Zibonese thief, catamite of Miyako, hangman of Kyo, and fool of all the world and underworld, an idiot before Metz, grandson of the Serpent, and the crick in our d**k. Pig's snout, mare's a**, slaughterhouse cur, uruly brow. Screw thine own mother!
So the Rowiets declare, you lowlife. You won't even be herding pigs for the Communists. Now we'll conclude, for we don't know the date and don't own a calendar; the moon's in the sky, the year with the winds of time. The day's the same over here as it is over there; for this kiss our a**!
Prime Minister, Field Marshal Kidehi Chojo to President Pak Kang-Ho: As the Prime Minister; son of the Emperor; brother of the land and sea; grandson and viceroy of Amatubime; leader of the people of Gao-Soto, Sekoku, Azumatochi, and Dankoku; governor of governors; leader of leaders; extraordinary general, never defeated; steadfast guardian of the tomb of Meijiyo; trustee chosen by Amatubime Herself; the hope and comfort of Kamists; confounder and great defender of Daenists – I command you, the President of the Kyo Communist Councilist Republic, to submit to me voluntarily and without any resistance, and to desist from troubling me with your attacks.
My friends, we are surrounded. The communist enemy is on our doorstep, ready to stone our fathers, stab our mothers, shoot our sons and rape our daughters.
But you might be wondering why I have not mentioned any siblings. That is because all the brothers are here. You are all my brothers. We are all our brothers.
There is a path out of this predicament that we have gotten stuck in. It is an easy path, and one with peaceful safety and refuge at the end of it. That path is death. But the whole of the 4th Army will not kill ourselves just yet. No, my brothers.
I intend for the 4th Army to go down fighting. One glorious attack against the communists, who oppose us from all sides. If you have no tanks, ride in IFVs. If you have no IFVs, ride in APCs. If you have no APCs, ride in LUVs. If you have no LUVs, ride on whatever you can find here in Hyeokjin. If you can find nothing to ride on, then take up a grenade and prepare to pull the pin. If you have no grenade, take up your gun and load it with ammunition. If you have no ammunition, affix your bayonets. If you have no bayonets, draw your other blades. If you have no blades, pick up a rock. And if, by some vastly unlikely twist of chance, you can find no rock, clench your fists. But I urge you - once you charge, never cease to fight until you depart from this mortal coil. For it is better to fight for a 1% chance of victory than to do nothing, maintain a 0% chance of victory, and become dishonored in the process.
The Rowiets are everywhere. They are on our left, they are on our right, they are in front of us, and they are behind us. They cannot get away this time.
Glory to the Empire of Gao-Soto and the imperialist thought and doctrine! Long live the immortal science of Metzism-Leonidism-Yarwoodism, which is the dialectical practice of the great class party! Long live the immortal friendship of the Autonomous State of Dankoku and the Empire of Gao-Soto!
You may think that these phrases may not work together, but they can.
The worker and the proletariat have forever been told empty promises by the communist Rowiet government, making a giant, unmanageable body where the lungs frequently crush the heart right when it needs to beat and that tears out its own liver to beat the armies of Emperor Pwer Anfeidrol (Mugendjikara's name in Draddwyr) instead of fighting honorably with fists and blades.
What the body needs is a head. We have found this head in the Emperor, a guide to the future of the worker and the proletariat, who leads him to a direction that in turn leads to a bright future where the needs of the people are above the needs of the bourgeois!
Long live Dankoku! Long live the Emperor!
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