Toggle sidebar

Useless Thread MMI: Millerade Appreciation Thread

General Freedom’s North Korean Plushie Sushi Bar: An International Incident​

By some twisted stroke of fate (and Brenda’s ability to talk her way into bad decisions), we found ourselves renting a tiny restaurant space in the heart of Tokyo.

Juan, still high on his imaginary status as a North Korean diplomat, insisted on calling it:

“General Freedom’s North Korean Plushie Sushi Bar.”

It was a horrific name for so many reasons, but Brenda was too busy sketching out the menu to care.

“We need a signature dish,” she said, writing furiously on a napkin. “Something that nobody else has. Something that screams ‘plushie sushi’ but also ‘communist dictatorship.’”

Juan slammed his fist on the table. “We make sushi inside plushies.”

I blinked. “Juan. That’s… that’s just shoving fish into stuffed animals.”

“Yes!” Juan beamed.

Brenda clapped her hands. “It’s edgy! It’s political! It’s brilliant!”

It was a health code violation waiting to happen.

But it was too late. They were committed.

Grand Opening Chaos​

The doors to General Freedom’s North Korean Plushie Sushi Bar opened at noon.

By 12:05, we had our first horrified customers.

A Japanese businessman and his wife stepped inside, looked at the decor—North Korean flags, anime plushies with tiny sushi rolls stitched to their hands, and a framed picture of Juan giving a thumbs-up—and immediately turned around and left.

“Cowards,” Juan muttered.

At 12:30, an American tourist couple wandered in, lured by the promise of “authentic North Korean cuisine.” They took one look at the menu—featuring items like “Supreme Leader Sushi,” “Dictator Rolls,” and “The Demilitarized Zone Delight”—and demanded to know if we were on some kind of watchlist.

“Probably,” I admitted.

At 1:00, a group of confused South Korean diplomats walked in. One of them saw the menu, read the name of the restaurant out loud, gasped in horror, and immediately pulled out a phone.

Brenda was thrilled. “International exposure, baby!”

At 2:00, a man in a dark suit and sunglasses stepped inside and took a seat. He didn’t order food. He just stared at us.

Juan leaned over. “That’s a spy.”

“Probably.”

Brenda waved at him. “Hope you’re hungry! Try the Supreme Leader Special—it’s raw fish wrapped in propaganda!”

I put my head in my hands.

Things Escalate… Fast​

At 4:00, our first real disaster struck.

Juan, in an attempt to show his “true allegiance to the North Korean people,” stood up on the counter and declared:

“As General Freedom, I officially offer plushie-based diplomacy to our North Korean brothers!”

Then he threw a Babe Woof plushie at a tourist.

It hit them square in the face.

That’s when the police showed up.

And then… the embassy officials.

And then… some very angry North Korean guys in suits.

Brenda, ever the entrepreneur, turned to me and whispered: “This is either gonna make us billionaires or get us executed.”

International Incident Mode: Activated​

The next twenty minutes were a chaotic blur of shouting, government agents, and Juan getting restrained by Japanese law enforcement as he screamed about freedom.

“We can fix this!” Brenda insisted.

“How?!”

“LASAGNA DIPLOMACY!”

This was, of course, a terrible idea.

Brenda sprinted to the back, grabbed a full pan of lasagna, and carried it out like a religious offering.

The North Korean officials did not look impressed.

One of them picked up a plush sushi roll, sneered, and set it on fire.

That was when Juan completely lost it.

“THAT WAS HAND-STITCHED!” he bellowed, breaking free from the police and tackling the guy.

And Just Like That, We Were Criminals Again​

By the time we were dragged out of the restaurant in handcuffs, an entire crowd had gathered outside.

The news cameras were rolling.

Juan was still screaming about plushies.

Brenda was trying to bribe the cops with lasagna.

And me?

I was already mentally planning my escape.

This wasn’t our first international incident.

And it sure as hell wouldn’t be our last.
 
  • Haha
Reactions: MetalheadPenguinsFan and PanthersPens62
Zillow should allow a comment section for home listings. This listing says "Welcome to this Immaculate and updated home, a perfect blend of modern, convenience and comfort!"

And it doesn't look like the house has been touched since like 2002.
 
  • Like
Reactions: Sega Dreamcast

Juan's Diplomatic Disaster at 30,000 Feet​

Somehow, some way, Juan had convinced an actual airline to let him board a flight to Moscow as the “official North Korean ambassador to Japan.”

Never mind that North Korea hadn’t sanctioned this. Never mind that Japan hadn’t either. Never mind that Juan had literally made up this title.

Brenda and I weren’t even sure how he pulled it off. We just woke up in a Tokyo holding cell, got bailed out by a mysterious wire transfer from “The Plushie Fund,” and suddenly we were on a flight to Russia.

And that was how the worst flight of my life began.

Chaos in First Class​

Juan had somehow sweet-talked his way into a first-class seat. Brenda and I were stuck in economy, which was already bad enough, but then Juan decided that he needed to “spread the plushie revolution” to the plane.

It started small.

A tiny Babe Woof plushie was discreetly placed on a flight attendant’s beverage cart.

Then, a Mr. Freedom eagle plushie somehow ended up perched on the pilot’s seat in the cockpit.

And then Juan stood up, grabbed the in-flight microphone, and declared:

“Comrades of the sky, today marks a historic moment in international relations! General Freedom has arrived, and I bring you the gift of plushie diplomacy!”

I groaned. Brenda started applauding.

Juan produced a duffel bag full of plushies and began hurling them at random passengers.

The Plane Revolts​

At first, the passengers were just confused. A Russian businessman caught a plush Stalin to the face. A Japanese tourist was smacked by a plush Lenin.

Brenda, inspired by Juan’s lunacy, stood up and started yelling:

“IT’S A REAL BANGER OF A PINCHED LOG, BABY!”

Which meant absolutely nothing to anyone except us.

That was the moment security got involved.

The Air Marshal Steps In​

One of the passengers—a large, extremely unamused Russian man in a suit—stood up and pulled out a badge.

I barely had time to register the words “Federal Air Marshal” before Juan, in the worst decision of his life, chucked a limited-edition Karl Marx plushie at him.

The air marshal caught it, stared at it for a moment, then turned to Juan and said in a thick Russian accent:

“You are idiot.”

And then tackled him.

Juan screamed about diplomatic immunity while being wrestled into a headlock.

Brenda, for some insane reason, jumped onto the air marshal’s back, screaming, “YOU CAN’T STOP THE PLUSHIE REVOLUTION!”

I did the only rational thing and pretended not to know them.

Emergency Landing, Plushie Scandal, and Putin’s Invitation​

The flight attendants were screaming. The pilots came over the intercom to announce an emergency landing.

By the time we touched down in Vladivostok, Juan had been restrained in zip ties, Brenda was still arguing about her right to sell lasagna on an international flight, and I was already mentally planning my escape to Canada.

Then, just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, a Russian official in a black suit approached Juan, looked at him for a long moment, and said:

“President Putin would like to meet you.”

Juan grinned like an absolute lunatic.

Brenda fist-pumped.

And I knew, with 100% certainty, that we were all about to end up in a Russian prison.
 
  • Haha
Reactions: MetalheadPenguinsFan and PanthersPens62

Plushie Diplomacy Meets Russian Fury​

We were escorted through a maze of cold, gray hallways in some ominous government building in Vladivostok.Russian officials in suits and not a single smile between them led us into a vast, gold-trimmed room.

At the far end sat Vladimir Putin himself.

He didn’t look happy.

Brenda, somehow not understanding the gravity of the situation, popped a piece of gum into her mouth, chewed loudly, and whispered, “This place could use a lasagna stand.”

Putin’s icy gaze fixed on Juan, and he growled, “So. You are the one claiming to be the North Korean Ambassador to Japan?”

Juan puffed out his chest and gave a dramatic bow.

“General Freedom, at your service, Mr. President.”

I closed my eyes. We were so dead.

The Accusation​

Putin stood and slammed his hands on the table. “You ruined me.”

Juan blinked. “Uh… what?”

Putin’s eye twitched.

“My mistress,” he snarled, “is pregnant. And she claims the father is the North Korean Ambassador to Japan.”

Juan gasped so loudly I thought he was choking.

“But… but that’s me!” he squeaked.

Brenda burst out laughing. “Ohhh, Juan, this is the funniest thing you’ve ever done.”

Putin leaned in closer, his voice like a slow-moving avalanche. “Are you saying you impregnated my mistress?”

Juan gulped.

“Uh… n-no?”

Putin narrowed his eyes. “Then who did?”

Juan’s mind raced. I could practically see the gerbil running on the wheel inside his head.

And then, in a moment of pure, primal panic, he reached into his bag and pulled out… a plushie.

Plushie Politics Fails Spectacularly​

Juan presented the plushie like an ancient relic of diplomacy.

“Mr. Putin, sir,” he stammered, “This is Comrade Snuggles. He’s a limited-edition peace bear. And I think… I think we can work this out like gentlemen.”

Silence.

Putin just stared at the plushie.

One of his advisors whispered something to him. Putin’s face went even redder.

He snatched Comrade Snuggles out of Juan’s hand, glared at it, and then, with absolute disgust, threw it into the fireplace behind him.

Juan screamed.

Brenda screamed.

I, for once, just accepted our fate.

A Diplomatic Escape Plan​

Putin straightened his suit, took a deep breath, and muttered, “This is the stupidest thing I have ever dealt with.”

Then he turned to his guards and barked something in Russian.

They grabbed Juan and dragged him toward the door.

Brenda snapped. She lunged forward, throwing herself over Juan like a dramatic mother protecting her child.

“No! You don’t understand! He’s the PLUSHIE GENERAL! He’s too stupid to be a father!”

Putin rubbed his temples.

Then he sighed. “Get them out of my country.”

And that was how, for the second time in our lives, we got deported.

This time, from Russia.
 
  • Haha
  • Like
Reactions: MetalheadPenguinsFan, PanthersPens62 and Mrfenn92
Turn on the Royal Rumble, and a match of Gargano and Ciampa vs the Motor City Machine Guns ends via interference.

What bullshit, no one wants to see a f*** finish on a ppv.
 
Spent $10 on Powerball tickets and got 20 free plays for this Monopoly slot machine.

On one spin, after going through like 4 progressive wheels, I got to the final wheel with the 700k jackpot on it and won $25.

Won enough to cover the Powerball tickets and get $18 back.

 
  • Like
Reactions: John Price and MetalheadPenguinsFan

Plushies on the Suez: The General’s Latest Disaster​

We barely had time to process our catastrophic diplomatic failure in Russia before we were unceremoniously deported to Egypt.

Why Egypt? No idea. But given our track record, I figured we’d be kicked out soon enough.

Juan, however, saw this as an opportunity.

“The Suez Canal!” he declared proudly, standing on the dusty streets of Port Said, overlooking one of the busiest trade routes in the world. “A global center of commerce! And you know what’s missing here?”

Brenda yawned. “Somewhere to get a good lasagna?”

“A plushie stand,” Juan announced.

I rubbed my temples. Of course.

The Suez Canal Plushie Experience™​

Within two days, Juan had somehow acquired a rickety wooden cart and set up a makeshift stand right on the edge of the canal.

A massive hand-painted sign hung over the stall, reading:

"General Freedom's Suez Canal Plushie Experience™: Where Commerce Meets Cuddles!"

His inventory included:

  • Plush camels wearing little sailor hats
  • Miniature plush oil tankers with "SUEZ OR BUST" written on the sides
  • A stuffed eagle named Captain Canal, which Juan claimed was a "good luck charm for smooth sailing."
Brenda, meanwhile, decided to contribute by selling "Sphinx-Inspired Egyptian Lasagna," which was somehow stuffed with falafel and coated in hummus.

It was an abomination.

The Incident​

Business was… slow.

Cargo ships glided past us, captains staring in confusion at Juan, who stood on the shore, dramatically waving a plushie camel in the air.

"YOU NEED THIS FOR YOUR JOURNEY, CAPTAIN! CUDDLES FOR SAFE PASSAGE!"

Not a single ship stopped.

Then Juan, in his infinite wisdom, decided the problem was visibility.

“We need to make a bigger impact,” he mused.

I should have stopped him right there. I didn’t.

And that’s how, less than an hour later, Juan hijacked a small fishing boat, loaded it with plushies, and tried to sail into the canal to personally distribute them to passing ships.

What happened next?

  • Juan’s boat stalled in the middle of the canal.
  • A massive cargo ship had to swerve to avoid hitting him.
  • The ship wedged itself sideways in the canal.
  • Global trade came to a screeching halt.
We had single-handedly recreated the Ever Given crisis.

Brenda watched the chaos unfold, chewing on her horrific lasagna.

“Now that’s what I call a banger of a pinched log.”

Deportation (Again)​

Authorities weren’t thrilled.

Within minutes, armed Egyptian police swarmed our plushie stand, shouting angrily in Arabic.

Juan tried his usual trick—offering a plushie as a peace offering.

It did not work.

By nightfall, we were on a plane out of Egypt.

To where?

Nobody told us.

Juan, however, was unbothered.

As he reclined in his airplane seat, munching on the last of Brenda’s nightmare lasagna, he mused:

“You know… I hear Zimbabwe has a booming market for plushies.”

I stared at him.

I turned to Brenda.

Brenda just grinned.

Oh no.
 
  • Haha
Reactions: MetalheadPenguinsFan and PanthersPens62
You must log in or register to reply here.

Latest posts

Ad

Upcoming events

Ad

Top Bottom