The Royal Empire of the Lemons wrote:Dear
Allanean Defense Exports,
We hope this order reaches you in good health.
The Royal Empire of the Lemons Ministry of Defense is looking to purchase the following:
1,000x BMP3-AL Dragoon IFV [NS$5bn]
500x Su-33AL Gannet [NS$37.5bn]
BMP3-AL Dragoon IFV DPR [NS$5bn]
BMP3-AL Dragoon IFV Guided Missile DPR [NS$1bn]
Su-33AL Gannet DPR [NS$75bn]
Arms Development Fund Donation [NS$26.5bn]
This will come to a total cost of NS$150bn [NS$150,000,000,000]]
As usual, we will ship the value of the order in gold.
The donation is an incentive to keep up the good work.
We would also like to offer to you the chance to construct a regional headquarters in Lemon City, free of charge.
Many thanks,
Otto CooperMinister of Defense
Official Reply from Allanean Defense Exports This is incredibly kind of your organization. We will immediately expedite your order, and begin constructing the BMPs and planes.
*
Kurgan, Allanean Russia, Kurganmashzavod“Sergei! SERGEI!”
“What is happening?” – Sergei, the plant’s human resources manager, stared at his superior with some surprise. “Alexei Dmitrievich, are you alright?”
“Sergei.” – the bald, somewhat obese Russian man looked at him. “How many people can you hire over the short term?”
“What do you mean, how many?” – Sergei asked, confused –“It obviously depends on the budget, Alexei Dmitrievich, I….”
“Hire every ballistic welder in Kurgan. We have had an expanded order for the BMPs.”
“What do you mean expanded?” – Sergei asked.
“A country called the Empire of the Lemons needs BMPs.”
“How many BMPs do they need?” – Sergei stared.
“All of them apparently. We’re shipping out every BMP we have ready immediately, and stepping up production.”
“What?”
“Triple shifts for the entire year Sergei. The plant will not close, not even for the holidays. We will be making BMPs, and then more BMPs, and then some extra BMPs.”
“How many did they order, Alexei Dmitrievich?”
“A thousand.”
“Yebena mat.” – Sergei said with feeling.
Sukhoi Design Bureau, Allanean Russia.“Sir?” – a lady’s head appeared in the doorway. The Chief Designer looked up. “What happened, Nastya?”
“Sir, a truck full of gold has arrived.”
“A truck. Of gold. This is not funny, Nastya.”
“This is so. It seems that a foreign country has donated two dozen billion dollars, in gold. To boost weapons development. And apparently this is our chunk.”
There was a pause. “Well what are you standing there for, Nastya? Have that truck under guard immediately. Put an ad out in Izvestia, we’re hiring engineers. We’ll pay twenty-five thousand roubles… no, fifty thousand, starting position!”
“Fifty thousand?”
“Yes, Nastya! And your salary is doubled! GO!”
“Why such a big hurry, Yakov Pavlovich?”
“Do you fucking think we’re the only people who have gotten those trucks of gold, tupaya ty pizda? We need to hire people before the other Ka-behs do it. Go Nastya, why are you standing there?”
“They’re… also ordering five hundred Gannets, Yakov Pavlovich. Paying for those in gold, too….”
Yakov Pavlovich grabbed the side of his chest, leaned sideways, and toppled with his manager’s chair with a loud crash.
“Yakov Pavlovich? YAKOV PAVLOVICH! DOCTOR! SOMEONE GET HIM A DOCTOR!”