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The Knights of Dodi Gago
Part I
Chapter 1: The Beginning of the End
The best of times were very far off in the eyes of today’s Armenians. The war with the Azeri’s had been waging for years now. Neither side had any advantage, nor had either side made any significant gains. The weather always seemed to reflect the troubled times and the mood of the battlefield. Icy winds blowing through zipped jackets of the soldiers, black clouds covering the entire sky, and moving in such a way under the influence of strong winds, that made it seem as if even time itself was in a hurry to reach the end of war. But nothing ever changed, the sky poured rain, and the ground dripped mud into even the best of dug defenses. The battlefield was a vast no man’s land covered with dead tanks, fallen heroes, and the souls of lingering men.
Back in Yerevan, where the clouds continued their endless stampede to get away, Armenia’s most brilliant generals were gathered around small bowls of Borsch. The maps on the walls were useless at this point. With no tanks left, no reinforcements waiting in the rear, with no means of continuing the war.
“There’s nothing left!” shouted Serzh Sarkissian at the map, then hit his fist against it.
“Don’t despair,” said President Kocharian. “Our men are brave, this is the third war with Azerbaijan in the past twenty years and not once have they ever gained any ground.”
“That’s because we had tanks, and heavy artillery, and. and hot meals for our troops! Nothing, there’s nothing left.” General Sarkissian’s eyes were more bloodshot than usual, most likely from lack of sleep.
Soon the worst of times would be upon the Armenians; even the next rising sun could bring untold horrors.
It was about this time that several long motorcades of the sport utility type were racing their way to the city center. Dodi Gago’s Hummer was in the lead, with his window down, and his hair combed back, he had the right of way. Following him in their motorcades were, Pnti(Messy) Samo, Tzaghig(Flower) Rubo, Grzo, and Armenia’s newly elected Ombudsman.
Chapter 2: For Love of Life
This was definitely a change of events, the people of Hrabarak knew. Because they were there everyday, once the proud citizens of Armenia, now reduced to starving beggars loitering in the capital square hoping for either food or a miracle.
Dodi Gago parked his Hummer and climbed on top, as the people gathered round out of curiosity.
He took a deep breath…and at that moment a ray of sunlight broke upon his face. The people gasped for no sun had shone since the beginning of the war. Dodi Gago began to speak, and with each passing word, with each new feeling of hope given to the people, the clouds would spread another inch or two. Until right about that time where Dodi Gago unsheathed a sword from by his side, and pointed the blade up towards the sky; the clouds had spread so far that there was a perfect hole above Hrabarak which illuminated every corner of it. The sun shone so fiercely that it stung them all in the eyes, and all the people could clearly see themselves reflected in Dodi Gago’s brand new sword.
This was Dodi Gago’s speech:
“If I have but lived my life for once, but only for not a second more. Naught have I known freedom’s sweetness in the hearts and minds of men. I have stolen the dark and dreary stones upon my castle wall. I have dreamed a sight far beyond any disillusioned solitary soul. For last night as I lay, tossing and turning upon a bed destined to certain doom. An angel came down from above the ceiling and unto the foot of my bed. He held a burning cross in his outstretched hands, and while I laid there staring in horror and fear. This angel took the cross and burned upon my chest, these very words. ‘In this sign you will be victor.’”
By the time Dodi Gago had finished his speech; a man in black robes sitting at the far end of the Hrabarak stood up and made his way towards Dodi Gago’s Hummer. Dodi Gago saw this man and said,
“Come, come up here father of my people.”
Indeed the man was the Catholicos of the Holy Armenian Church. Even he, with his hopes dashed upon rocks of fear and hunger continued to shepherd the souls of men, and sat everyday at that very spot. At least to keep an eye on his people, to hunger, thirst, suffer, and wallow in fear and misery just as any other human being there.
When the Catholicos was standing next to Dodi Gago, Dodi Gago said,
“Our task is, with the aid of divine piety, to defend the Holy Church of Christ with arms…Your task, most Holy Father, is to lift up your hands to God, like Moses, so as to aid our troops.”
And with those words the Catholicos’ hands did go up, like Moses, giving glory to God.
Part 2
Chapter 1: Riders on the Storm
The Knights of Dodi Gago’s Hummer’s were outfitted with the last remaining firepower and heavy artillery. Their gas tanks filled with the last ounces of gasoline still available in all of Armenia.
With one final speech by Dodi Gago the Knights drove off into the sunset, towards fate itself.
“We do not go fight for vengeance; war is not some proving ground for our manly urges. We fight for the restoration of peace, love, and justice. We fight for an end to these dark times. Our gas-guzzling chariots of war will take us to the four corners of death and danger. And our souls will be tried by the tides of war, and whether we return or not. It will make no difference be it in the form of vanquished heroes slain among brothers during a war of infinite attrition, or if it be as conquerors, rejoicers, as riders on the storm. For these are only the ways of men and kind. And the future bears witness to all.”
“Now we drive! Down Ararat Valley, under the shadow of Mt. Khustup, past the village of Khapan and over the Lachin Corridor, and out onto the plains of Artsakh, where our brothers wait, both those in flesh and blood, and those in ghost and spirit.”
That was the last thing Dodi Gago said. As he stopped waving his sword around, stepped into his Hummer, and tore away, filling the relative silence of Hrabarak with the sound of 245 horses screaming to get away.
Chapter 2: Smoke on the Horizon
“Yokchulu lajdfdklasf izmivli?” asked Piskhod, the official yes man to the Azeri general, as he held a spoon of sugar over a cup of what looked like pee.
“Fartshan,” replied the General which caused Piskhod to promptly return the sugar to its bowl.
Something caught the General’s eyes and he reached for his binoculars. There was smoke on the horizon. Followed by a roar carried by a powerful wind, then the ground began to tremble and an icy chill, much like fear crept into the General’s heart.
“What new devilish, insane, crafty, and gung-ho thing have the Armenians come up with now?” Which he actually said out loud, and it sounded like this,
“Aksdhlfajdl alskdjfaljfd aklsdj jkkdjf a;ljaopie ocijpajie alke.”
Chapter 3: Back to the Baku
Dodi Gago’s Hummer surrounded by his faithful knights descended upon the Azeri positions with such force and determination, and with such honking of personalized car horns, that not only did every single Azeri (who was hunkered down thinking about what sick sense of humor Allah had to make them neighbors with the very people who, when threatened, fought like spawns of Satan armed with the teeth of God) turn to run back to their beautiful Baku, but also every single Armenian (who was hunkered down thinking about what sick sense of humor God had to make a war break out when he was eighteen, and also about how pointy his shoes would be when he got to go back home) got up to give chase.
And wherever Dodi Gago’s knights would overrun the fleeing Azeris, the Azeris would throw aside their rifles and give themselves wedgies as a sign of surrender; all the way to Baku.
In Baku Dodi Gago convinced the president of Azerbaijan to sign an unconditional surrender, then the whole entourage returned to Yerevan as victors of one of the closest calls known in history. The Catholicos of the Armenian Church crowned Dodi Gago Holy Armenian Emperor and kissed him on the forehead.
Epilogue
A few weeks later Dodi Gago was shot dead in his favorite strip club by Hska(buff/big) Sako the new face in crime lordiry.
The Catholicos of the Armenian Church caught bird flu and died, but miraculously his body was never found.
That eighteen year old soldier went home to a country changed by years of war, but nonetheless unchanged in their concept of fashionable shoes.
President Kocharian and Serzh Sarkissian both left for Switzerland and withdrew their hard earned savings because dancing in gay nightclubs was really all they wanted from the very beginning of their careers.
And the hungry masses of Hrabarak all went back to their homes as Ardasahman relatives began sending money again.
Part I
Chapter 1: The Beginning of the End
The best of times were very far off in the eyes of today’s Armenians. The war with the Azeri’s had been waging for years now. Neither side had any advantage, nor had either side made any significant gains. The weather always seemed to reflect the troubled times and the mood of the battlefield. Icy winds blowing through zipped jackets of the soldiers, black clouds covering the entire sky, and moving in such a way under the influence of strong winds, that made it seem as if even time itself was in a hurry to reach the end of war. But nothing ever changed, the sky poured rain, and the ground dripped mud into even the best of dug defenses. The battlefield was a vast no man’s land covered with dead tanks, fallen heroes, and the souls of lingering men.
Back in Yerevan, where the clouds continued their endless stampede to get away, Armenia’s most brilliant generals were gathered around small bowls of Borsch. The maps on the walls were useless at this point. With no tanks left, no reinforcements waiting in the rear, with no means of continuing the war.
“There’s nothing left!” shouted Serzh Sarkissian at the map, then hit his fist against it.
“Don’t despair,” said President Kocharian. “Our men are brave, this is the third war with Azerbaijan in the past twenty years and not once have they ever gained any ground.”
“That’s because we had tanks, and heavy artillery, and. and hot meals for our troops! Nothing, there’s nothing left.” General Sarkissian’s eyes were more bloodshot than usual, most likely from lack of sleep.
Soon the worst of times would be upon the Armenians; even the next rising sun could bring untold horrors.
It was about this time that several long motorcades of the sport utility type were racing their way to the city center. Dodi Gago’s Hummer was in the lead, with his window down, and his hair combed back, he had the right of way. Following him in their motorcades were, Pnti(Messy) Samo, Tzaghig(Flower) Rubo, Grzo, and Armenia’s newly elected Ombudsman.
Chapter 2: For Love of Life
This was definitely a change of events, the people of Hrabarak knew. Because they were there everyday, once the proud citizens of Armenia, now reduced to starving beggars loitering in the capital square hoping for either food or a miracle.
Dodi Gago parked his Hummer and climbed on top, as the people gathered round out of curiosity.
He took a deep breath…and at that moment a ray of sunlight broke upon his face. The people gasped for no sun had shone since the beginning of the war. Dodi Gago began to speak, and with each passing word, with each new feeling of hope given to the people, the clouds would spread another inch or two. Until right about that time where Dodi Gago unsheathed a sword from by his side, and pointed the blade up towards the sky; the clouds had spread so far that there was a perfect hole above Hrabarak which illuminated every corner of it. The sun shone so fiercely that it stung them all in the eyes, and all the people could clearly see themselves reflected in Dodi Gago’s brand new sword.
This was Dodi Gago’s speech:
“If I have but lived my life for once, but only for not a second more. Naught have I known freedom’s sweetness in the hearts and minds of men. I have stolen the dark and dreary stones upon my castle wall. I have dreamed a sight far beyond any disillusioned solitary soul. For last night as I lay, tossing and turning upon a bed destined to certain doom. An angel came down from above the ceiling and unto the foot of my bed. He held a burning cross in his outstretched hands, and while I laid there staring in horror and fear. This angel took the cross and burned upon my chest, these very words. ‘In this sign you will be victor.’”
By the time Dodi Gago had finished his speech; a man in black robes sitting at the far end of the Hrabarak stood up and made his way towards Dodi Gago’s Hummer. Dodi Gago saw this man and said,
“Come, come up here father of my people.”
Indeed the man was the Catholicos of the Holy Armenian Church. Even he, with his hopes dashed upon rocks of fear and hunger continued to shepherd the souls of men, and sat everyday at that very spot. At least to keep an eye on his people, to hunger, thirst, suffer, and wallow in fear and misery just as any other human being there.
When the Catholicos was standing next to Dodi Gago, Dodi Gago said,
“Our task is, with the aid of divine piety, to defend the Holy Church of Christ with arms…Your task, most Holy Father, is to lift up your hands to God, like Moses, so as to aid our troops.”
And with those words the Catholicos’ hands did go up, like Moses, giving glory to God.
Part 2
Chapter 1: Riders on the Storm
The Knights of Dodi Gago’s Hummer’s were outfitted with the last remaining firepower and heavy artillery. Their gas tanks filled with the last ounces of gasoline still available in all of Armenia.
With one final speech by Dodi Gago the Knights drove off into the sunset, towards fate itself.
“We do not go fight for vengeance; war is not some proving ground for our manly urges. We fight for the restoration of peace, love, and justice. We fight for an end to these dark times. Our gas-guzzling chariots of war will take us to the four corners of death and danger. And our souls will be tried by the tides of war, and whether we return or not. It will make no difference be it in the form of vanquished heroes slain among brothers during a war of infinite attrition, or if it be as conquerors, rejoicers, as riders on the storm. For these are only the ways of men and kind. And the future bears witness to all.”
“Now we drive! Down Ararat Valley, under the shadow of Mt. Khustup, past the village of Khapan and over the Lachin Corridor, and out onto the plains of Artsakh, where our brothers wait, both those in flesh and blood, and those in ghost and spirit.”
That was the last thing Dodi Gago said. As he stopped waving his sword around, stepped into his Hummer, and tore away, filling the relative silence of Hrabarak with the sound of 245 horses screaming to get away.
Chapter 2: Smoke on the Horizon
“Yokchulu lajdfdklasf izmivli?” asked Piskhod, the official yes man to the Azeri general, as he held a spoon of sugar over a cup of what looked like pee.
“Fartshan,” replied the General which caused Piskhod to promptly return the sugar to its bowl.
Something caught the General’s eyes and he reached for his binoculars. There was smoke on the horizon. Followed by a roar carried by a powerful wind, then the ground began to tremble and an icy chill, much like fear crept into the General’s heart.
“What new devilish, insane, crafty, and gung-ho thing have the Armenians come up with now?” Which he actually said out loud, and it sounded like this,
“Aksdhlfajdl alskdjfaljfd aklsdj jkkdjf a;ljaopie ocijpajie alke.”
Chapter 3: Back to the Baku
Dodi Gago’s Hummer surrounded by his faithful knights descended upon the Azeri positions with such force and determination, and with such honking of personalized car horns, that not only did every single Azeri (who was hunkered down thinking about what sick sense of humor Allah had to make them neighbors with the very people who, when threatened, fought like spawns of Satan armed with the teeth of God) turn to run back to their beautiful Baku, but also every single Armenian (who was hunkered down thinking about what sick sense of humor God had to make a war break out when he was eighteen, and also about how pointy his shoes would be when he got to go back home) got up to give chase.
And wherever Dodi Gago’s knights would overrun the fleeing Azeris, the Azeris would throw aside their rifles and give themselves wedgies as a sign of surrender; all the way to Baku.
In Baku Dodi Gago convinced the president of Azerbaijan to sign an unconditional surrender, then the whole entourage returned to Yerevan as victors of one of the closest calls known in history. The Catholicos of the Armenian Church crowned Dodi Gago Holy Armenian Emperor and kissed him on the forehead.
Epilogue
A few weeks later Dodi Gago was shot dead in his favorite strip club by Hska(buff/big) Sako the new face in crime lordiry.
The Catholicos of the Armenian Church caught bird flu and died, but miraculously his body was never found.
That eighteen year old soldier went home to a country changed by years of war, but nonetheless unchanged in their concept of fashionable shoes.
President Kocharian and Serzh Sarkissian both left for Switzerland and withdrew their hard earned savings because dancing in gay nightclubs was really all they wanted from the very beginning of their careers.
And the hungry masses of Hrabarak all went back to their homes as Ardasahman relatives began sending money again.
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