[Video] IN SOVIET RUSSIA, DEMENTORS ARE KILLED BY YOU!
[Here is Russia. Dementors are hovering around him, but strangely, keeping their distance. Russia seems oblivious to their presence, or he simply doesn't care, as he sits at a desk and scribbles notes.]
Hmm, is there a breeze in here? Ah...
[He turns, smiling kindly at the nearest cloaked monster.] Could you close the window? I don't want any of my friends catching colds!
[The stupidly brave beast--we'll call him Demerica--glides forward. Ice forms on the fringes of Russia's clothing, though he isn't paying much mind to it. Demerica leans forward, hovering inches from Russia's lips, a rattling breath echoing in the room as it seals its "kiss"...
...AND THEN IT EXPLODES. Oh, Demerica, we hardly knew ye. Only a whisp of black smoke is left behind before that too is sucked into a black hole of non-existence. The other Dementors (Czechoslamentor, Latvimentor, Demstonia, and Poland #2), wisely, flee to the other side of the room. Russia laughs, turning towards the fleeing horde.]
Is that all you fellows wanted? My affection? Well, though that was hardly as satisfying as others' lips, I am not unkind enough to deny you.
[He's smiling wider oh dear god.]
Come, my new friends, don't be shy! You can all be one with Russia.
[If Dementors could cry, they would be right now. The last thing to be seen is Russia rising from his desk, edging towards the small group of Dementors that are currently flailing desperately to escape the room.]
Hmm, is there a breeze in here? Ah...
[He turns, smiling kindly at the nearest cloaked monster.] Could you close the window? I don't want any of my friends catching colds!
[The stupidly brave beast--we'll call him Demerica--glides forward. Ice forms on the fringes of Russia's clothing, though he isn't paying much mind to it. Demerica leans forward, hovering inches from Russia's lips, a rattling breath echoing in the room as it seals its "kiss"...
...AND THEN IT EXPLODES. Oh, Demerica, we hardly knew ye. Only a whisp of black smoke is left behind before that too is sucked into a black hole of non-existence. The other Dementors (Czechoslamentor, Latvimentor, Demstonia, and Poland #2), wisely, flee to the other side of the room. Russia laughs, turning towards the fleeing horde.]
Is that all you fellows wanted? My affection? Well, though that was hardly as satisfying as others' lips, I am not unkind enough to deny you.
[He's smiling wider oh dear god.]
Come, my new friends, don't be shy! You can all be one with Russia.
[If Dementors could cry, they would be right now. The last thing to be seen is Russia rising from his desk, edging towards the small group of Dementors that are currently flailing desperately to escape the room.]