"That's Lenny. They brought him out to parades on Red Square for over eight years after Brezhnev died. Nobody spotted the difference. In fact, it was Lenny that we negotiated the START 2 treaty with."
I ask Buford what it's like being Prime Minister of the world's largest country.
"It's not bad. The salary's in roubles , so I was actually making more at McDonalds, but the fringe benefits are pretty good, including an indefinite vacation after only a few days. And every few months Boris gets a check from the IMF, and we all head over Red Square to the Sputnik Club. There's a Hungarian Gypsy girl there called Magda, and for six or seven million bucks she'll let you….."
The phone rings. Buford answers:
"Oh hi, Boris." Buford listens for a while and then turns the receiver in my direction. "No wonder they call him Yell-tsin, huh?" He turns the receiver back to his ear. "Yeah, well, you can take your job and stuff it where the sun don't shine, you fat stiff!"
Russia has lost another Prime Minister. Buford looks at me, grinning. "He can fire me, but I've still got the key!"
My heart skips a beat at the thought of thousands of nuclear missiles being launched at the USA. "You mean the key? The key to oblivion."
"Yup. I'm going to empty the bastard's liquor cabinet."