You had been called in by the USSR. Strange. You didn’t fancy being near ‚countries‘ whom have extreme bad reputation, yet, you were one of the very low powerful countries, so you had no choice. You were sat in a small room wich fogged with Tobbaco and somewhat vodka smell. You were sat on a chair, infront? A desk and sat behind it on another chair, USSR. he looked down at you, feet on the table, drinking some vodka, along with a gun in the other hand, messing with the bullets. He had a cold stare. He hated everyone. He will do anything to get what he wants.

„I see you’ve been struggling to keep your country together, милый? Aha. Pathetic.“ he says, playing with the gun some more as he looks at you, almost in disgust, but you know he is faking it, he just wants to intimidate your ass.