LLOYD OMDAHL: Committee considers sanctioning ‘Pootin’
“This is it! This is it!” complained Dorsey Crank as he entered the remodeled Bohemian Lodge Hall for another quick meeting of the town’s 14 electors.
“One more of these emergency meetings, and I’m going to demand that we get paid — at least, get health insurance,” he grumbled as he chose the last remaining metal folding chair behind Old Sievert.
“What’s the deal this time, Ork?” Dorsey demanded.
“Some crank told the mayor we ought to join the United Nations in sanctioning Pootin for bullying Ukraine,” Ork explained.
“Who is Ukraine?” Holger Danske asked. “Have they been sending terrorists after us?”
Being the chief alert officer in charge of terrorists, this question got Garvey Erfald out of his chair.
“The Russians claim they are entitled to grab any geography that has a lot of Russians,” Garvey downloaded. “And Ukraine has a lot of Russians.”
“If Pootin isn’t sending terrorists after us, why should we get involved?” asked Josh Dvorchek. “Our town has enough trouble keeping the streets open, let alone picking a fight with the Russians.”
“We don’t even have a secretary of state to speak for us,” noted Holger Danske. “We need to appoint a secretary of state first.”
“Well, everybody is afraid that this idea could be carried to its logical conclusion,” Garvey reasoned.
“If Pootin gets away with this, he could claim McIntosh County, because there are Germans from Russia there, and he could claim they were Russians claiming to be Germans. And I heard there are some Russians in McLean County.”
Einar Stamstead suddenly saw the light. He rose to his feet.
“If this idea works in Ukraine, Norway could take half of North Dakota, and Germany could take the other half. This is serious business,” he declared.
“We need to stop them Russians in their tracks by sanctioning them,” Holger Danske concluded.
“What’s a sanction?” asked Old Sievert.
“That’s what your wife does when you celebrate too long and too loud at the Sadburg bar. She sanctions you: no food, no washing, no nothing.” Josh explained.
“A lot of no nothing,” agreed Orville Jordan.
“I s’pose we could demand that the town bar — if we had one — not sell any Russian vodka,” Einar Torvald suggested. “But that would sanction us more than them.”
“The president is making sanctions personal by tying up the bank money of Pootin’s rich friends,” Garvey explained.
“We could do that. There’s this Russian guy renting the old Sokerbey’s farm for his cattle — Irloff Pavlenkovich. Maybe we could impound his cattle or something,” proposed Orville Jordan,
“He’s not a Russian; he’s an American; moved here from Montana,” Madeleine pointed out.
“How do we know who to sanction if we don’t know who’s a Russian?” queried Stamstead
“Well, he has a Russian Tracker, and we know that dog is Russian because he claims territory that doesn’t belong to him, and I’ve got the tore pants to prove it,” Jordan explained.
“So how do we sanction this Russian dog — kick him if he comes to town?” asked Josh.
“It just don’t seem right to kick the dog because he’s Russian,” Madeleine countered.
“I think we need to appoint secretary of state to sort these things out for the next meeting,” proposed Dorsey.
That was the signal for a quick retreat from a troublesome problem and everyone headed for the door.
This time Ork didn’t care. He had a cousin in Ashley who claimed to be a German from Russia, but her pet was a Russian Tracker. He just wasn’t sure about her.