It’s a little-known fact, but according to the Gormogons’ by-laws, no more than four Gormogons can ever be in the same place at the same time except while on Castle grounds. At least that’s what ‘Puter recalls the by-laws say, since no one’s actually seen the by-laws since the Battle of Vienna in 1683, when in a fit of pique Volgi absconded with the by-laws after ‘Puter and Czar on a drunken dare assisted Jan III Sobieski in repelling the Ottoman infidels.*
So on those rare occasions when a large number (greater than two, in most instances) get together, it is an occasion of note. When Czar and ‘Puter get together, it is an occasion for mass panic. Physicists recommended against ‘Puter and Czar meeting outside the Castle, fearing it may trigger a world-ending cataclysm, or at least a state-wide panic. Undeterred, ‘Puter and Czar vowed to meet at Czar’s dacha, with Mandy in attendance to document the proceedings for posterity.
As Czar noted, ‘Puter and Mrs. ‘Puter arrived at Czar’s summer dacha shortly after Mandy and Mrs. Mandy. ‘Puter knows this because he hid in bushes across the street until Mandarin and family arrived. Mrs. ‘Puter rolled her eyes, refused to lurk with ‘Puter, and insisted on waiting in ‘Puter’s rented swagger wagon (a Toyota Camry) until ‘Puter was done “being a paranoid, drunken ass-clown.”**
Preliminary intra-marriage passive-aggressive hostilities out of the way, ‘Puter and Mrs. ‘Puter made their way up the oyster shell (actually, ground bone, but ‘Puter didn’t want Mrs. ‘Puter to freak out) path to Czar’s iron clad door. Mrs. ‘Puter rang the doorbell.***
Czar answered the door himself, most likely because he had killed yet another unwilling butler on a whim. Czar was attired in his casual regalia, a gold lame man thong and a bearskin cape. Czar even deloused his beard and corn-rowed his back hair for the occasion. Mrs. ‘Puter was suitably impressed with Czar’s efforts.
Czar immediately handed ‘Puter a gallon plastic milk jug filled with a brownish liquid and ice and said, “Here, drink this, you God-forsaken son of a whore!” Since Czar asked politely, ‘Puter obliged. ‘Puter assumed the milk jug’s contents would be his favorite Courvoisier and Kool-Aid, but no. Czar had outdone himself, handing ‘Puter one of the best Manhattan’s he’d ever had. After ‘Puter had finished the first jug, Czar handed ‘Puter another, and the evening was off the races.
‘Puter, Czar and Mandy then retired to the lanai to continue to grill chicken and catch up on official Gormogon business. As loyal readers know, all your Gormogons good cooks, and several if not all are master grillers. Czar chose to prepare apple wood smoked (on the grill) beer brined barbecued chicken for his guests (not to mention Polish sausage and pierógi). The chicken was delicious, as was the company.****
After dinner, Czar served more drinks including a delicious milk stout while Czar’s youngest offspring explained the origin of the phrase “the cake is a lie” to Czar. Czar accused ‘Puter of lying about the phrase’s origin, necessitating a true expert on Portal to explain it. After Czar beat his offspring for so completely proving Czar wrong, the men retired to the dacha’s Russian themed techno dance club, complete with overweight Russian mobsters trailed by lamprey-like meth addicted wannabe models. The ambiance was perfect.
‘Puter immediately noted the presence of someone he hadn’t seen in while, Kim Jong Un. Czar explained Kim showed up about a month ago and refused to leave, claiming Dennis Rodman was stalking him. Being a neighborly despot, Czar let him stay even allowing Kim to whip up North Korea’s national dish (tree bark, grass clippings and newspaper soup) in the club’s well-equipped kitchen.
Here’s a picture of all of us partying like rock stars in Czar’s club. Come to think of it, there was a rock star present as well. Robert Plant heard there was to be a Gormogonicon and showed up out of the blue. ‘Puter isn’t really a Led Zeppelin fan, but didn’t have the heart to tell Mr. Plant to go home. After all, Bob (that’s what his friends call him) traveled a long way.
After this picture was taken, it all gets a bit hazy for ‘Puter. He vaguely remembers playing pin the tail on the waitress (using throwing axes) with Kim and Bob and singing karaoke with Czar and Mandy (“Back in the USSR,” (Czar’s choice) “One Bourbon, One Scotch, and One Beer,” (‘Puter’s pick) and of course, “Mandy” (Mandy’s selection))
‘Puter awoke the next morning in the dacha’s Emperor Suite next to Mrs. ‘Puter, who still hasn’t spoken to him. ‘Puter threw open the window to survey the grounds. This is what he saw.
Fortunately, the world didn’t end as predicted, and all Gormogons along with most of the other guests survived. Bob seems to have gone home, and Kim departed in the night, apparently deciding North Koreans needed their chubby dynastic dictator back.
Based on this gathering’s success, we will most certainly be having another Gormogonicon soon, likely at ‘Puter’s hovel located in an undisclosed location in Upstate New York’s frigid wasteland.
* Volgi really, really likes the Ottomans. To this day, ‘Puter and Czar will occasionally find themselves assaulted on the way home from the Leaping Peacock by an orta or five of Janissaries “conveniently” passing by. When ‘Puter and Czar confront Volgi about it, he always denies having anything to do with the mysterious presence of Ottoman elite military units abolished in 1826. ‘Puter’s beginning to think maybe Volgi’s lying.
** That’s not the first time, nor is it likely to be the last time, ‘Puter’s heard that line come out of Mrs. ‘Puter’s word hole.
*** Actually a serf laying under the front portico that one punches in the groin. The serf’s pained screams and incoherent Russian curses alert Czar to a visitor’s presence.
**** For a full menu, see Czar’s post on the Gormogonicon here.
Always right, unless he isn’t, the infallible Ghettoputer F. X. Gormogons claims to be an in-law of the Volgi, although no one really believes this.
’Puter carefully follows economic and financial trends, legal affairs, and serves as the Gormogons’ financial and legal advisor. He successfully defended us against a lawsuit from a liquor distributor worth hundreds of thousands of dollars in unpaid deliveries of bootleg shandies.
The Geep has an IQ so high it is untestable and attempts to measure it have resulted in dangerously unstable results as well as injuries to researchers. Coincidentally, he publishes intelligence tests as a side gig.
His sarcasm is so highly developed it borders on the psychic, and he is often able to insult a person even before meeting them. ’Puter enjoys hunting small game with 000 slugs and punt guns, correcting homilies in real time at Mass, and undermining unions. ’Puter likes to wear a hockey mask and carry an axe into public campgrounds, where he bursts into people’s tents and screams. As you might expect, he has been shot several times but remains completely undeterred.
He assures us that his obsessive fawning over news stories involving women teachers sleeping with young students is not Freudian in any way, although he admits something similar once happened to him. Uniquely, ’Puter is unable to speak, read, or write Russian, but he is able to sing it fluently.
Geep joined the order in the mid-1980s. He arrived at the Castle door with dozens of steamer trunks and an inarticulate hissing creature of astonishingly low intelligence he calls “Sleestak.” Ghettoputer appears to make his wishes known to Sleestak, although no one is sure whether this is the result of complex sign language, expert body posture reading, or simply beating Sleestak with a rubber mallet.
‘Puter suggests the Czar suck it.