Purple Heads Into Custody

Maulana entered his house, looking up at the broken tube light. Nikita Khrushchev and five others were in his house, three of them armed with rifles. Laura sat alone on the couch, two rifles pointed at her head.

Khrushchev sat behind the desk, his cap off. "How are you doing, Maulana? Sorry about the tube light. It had gone very... weak over time."

Maulana walked forward, throwing the keys on the desk. "Same goes for your tube light? Pointing rifles at a woman?"

Laura laughed, as Khrushchev stood up, looking at his soldiers. "Where is he?"

One soldier went into the kitchen and dragged James out. "There goes our friend," Khrushchev said, putting his cap back on.

Maulana scoffed. "Not surprised, Nikita? You've grown quite a bit of shell."

Khrushchev smiled. "You all are under arrest for selling weapons illegally and going against the state."

Khrushchev walked out without looking at Maulana. "Load them in the car, gently."

The car door opened at the Serbian Gulag. Officers got them in, handing them labor tools. They started mining coal.

Meanwhile, Khrushchev entered the President's Office, saluting and taking off his cap. Stalin stood by the window, hands behind his back, looking out.

Stalin turned around, moving to his left to touch a statue of a lady. "What happened?"

Khrushchev reported, "Purple Heads! I arrested them and sent them to—"

Stalin interrupted, "Shh! What happened about the weapons?"

Khrushchev explained, "They had weapons hidden somewhere, like not on this earth... we couldn't find them."

Stalin's face turned red with rage. "Go and look for the weapons under the earth then?"

Khrushchev hesitated. "But sir—"

Stalin's voice rose. "Do as I say!!"

Khrushchev nodded. "Yes, sir."

Stalin's eyes narrowed. "I want them, all those weapons, here... on my desk."