Well, as you can see, my words have had the desired effect... Yuri puts up a brave front while he gets his affairs in order, doesn't he? Heh. I hear the commentators nicknamed you '4S' for short... I wonder if they pronounce that 'Four-Ess' as in 'RUN, FourEss, RUN!', or 'Fours' as in 'Use the Fours...'? Truly a point to ponder, don't you agree?

Let me now utilize this moment to speak to Yuri's sensible side... Mother Russia... Do you think Superfly is gonna let you get any more of these high-profile johns like 'Snookie' anytime soon? (Didn't know the hotel was bugged, didja?) You've got a lot to lose once your meal-ticket gets himself killed, don'tcha, honey? It's back to the docks for you... Of course, there's an upside to that as nobody will notice the smell of fish, but I digress... Sure, it's admirable that these Soviet scientists have managed to patch up your 'Snookie', but let's remember something else that Advanced Soviet Science (ASS for brevity) patched up...

MIR.

Need I say more? Good, I knew you were smarter than you look... This pleases me...

Now to business... Yuri, you go on and on about being cheated here and there... You want to share the tag straps with Babble? Fine. Just beat GC and Caster... You should be able to fit that in between curing cancer and accepting your Nobel prize for self-delusion, easy... You want to show everyone what a true Soviet champion is? Bring your Best of Nikita Koloff tapes... I think he held the NWA's US strap for a couple weeks in his lengthy career... Add in the three or four days he was a tag champ and you might have about a half hour of highlights... Tops. That isn't to suggest that you pinkos are boring, or anything... Far be it from me to suggest such a thing, when it's so much more effective and accurate to SAY IT OUTRIGHT... So, you see, 'Snookie', the Russian Front has lost alot of the magic that made it such a threat in Hitler's day... Of course, what do you expect when those guys are all pushing seventy...? But I digress...

Yuri, Marx my words... We're tired of your bolshevik... You'll be Lenin on a crutch after our match... I'm going to knock your Koloff into the sixth row, and leave Rasputin teeth... Czar's nothing you can do... You're Gorbachev...

Heh.

Soon, I will undertake the biggest challenge of my career... Shutting your piehole of plenty... I'm sure ASS can probably hook it up to a 9volt to substitute your brain - though I haven't really seen your brain and you mouth work in tandem -  as yet, Soviet Science doesn't worry about such trifling details, do they? No, clearly not... Maybe that's why they built a space station without a renewable oxygen source, eh? Here's a hint, Yur... Plants... Hydroponics... Take a couple potted ferns to your Russian Space Program, and they'll probably make you director or something... Or at least give you the day off on the Gilligan crank in that Moscow powerplant.... Won't that be grand? Hell, if they send the plants to space right away, they might have a chance... After all, we see how well Russian soil is inclined to produce argiculturally everytime we have to fire up the Cessna's and drop over some of our own Amber Waves.... But I digress.... No sense calling a donkey a donkey when he KNOWS what he is already, right? Right.

So, in closing, let me thank the President for allowing me to do my part to stop noise pollution... I'm sure everyone appreciates it - except maybe Babble, who would have to know that he's next - and Yuri's family, who I hear will be shipped to the Gulag when he fails... To everyone else:

You're welcome... See you SOON.