Eastern Promises

How ya gonna keep 'em down on the server farm?

[Music: “Volga Boatmen.” An open-plan office space with drop ceiling. The windowless walls are covered with posters of varying condition, the verbiage all in Russian: Portraits of Vladimir Putin and Steve Bannon; pictures of Soviet and Russian tanks and rifles; what look like classic motivational posters, except the images are mostly of men smoking cigars and waving wads of cash, and women in bikinis; pin-up calendars both soft-core and commercial, etc. Uncovered wall space is tobacco-stained.  There are 20 desks in this office but most of them are unmanned, though there is evidence such as desk clocks, family photos, and fast-food wrappers showing they have recently been in use. At desks with laptops are SERGEI — in his 30s, beefy, wearing a lumberjack shirt and a WWI leather aviator’s helmet; ARTYOM — early 20s, skinny, heavy black eyebrows and thick mid-length neatly-trimmed hair, wearing a sharp cream button-down shirt and an elderly Ralph Lauren jacket clearly tailored for someone else; and MILES — early 20s, American, thin, blond, looks like he drinks more than he sleeps, wearing lime-green coveralls. At a desk with twin monitors sits OLGA, north of 40, blowsy, white shirt with three buttons open and a purple vest, brown highlighted hair in a bun with bouffant. The men all drink vodka straight from bottles at their desks and smoke cigarettes; OLGA drinks coffee and does not smoke. MIKHAIL, in his 40s, of average height, dressed like Danny DeVito in Taxi and carrying a pint bottle of vodka, strolls in.]

MIKHAIL: What is happening, dirtbags? Listen, today we have many no-shows, so Fearless Leader has doubled copy quota.

[The MEN at desks groan.]

Hey, don’t look at me. Is same shit all around.

SERGEI: Hey Mik-Mik, how about advance for downtrodden worker?

MIKHAIL: Advance! What for you need advance?

SERGEI: You mangy old peasant! Do you not know all cash machines in Moscow are down?

ARTYOM: The cursed Americanskis and the Ee-Urocrats have fucked us good!

[ARTYOM holds up his bottle.]

I had to rob babushka to buy vodka!

OLGA: Tsk! You are pig, robbing old woman. Why you don’t rob priest like a man?

MIKHAIL: Is vodka and potatoes in break room. You work, you eat and drink.

SERGEI: How we know you pay us?

ARTYOM: [Gestures toward empty desks] I think others figure out you don’t got money to pay, that’s why they don’t work.

MIKHAIL: Malingerers! For sure they don’t get paid. But you, have patience, when glorious victory is achieved in filthy Ukraine, I make you rich like Deripaska! You will wear fur coats and ride yachts and have beautiful whores who will bear you many children!

ARTYOM: I don’t want children, I want to go club, meet nice girl, maybe buy new suit and eat in restaurant like human being, not potatoes in break room like serf!

SERGEI: Mik-Mik, is this what was like old Soviet Union?

MIKHAIL: Why you ask me? You think I am old man? But my grandfather tell me, no. He say in old days life was good, no shortages. Under Stalin, he said, the people were happy and everyone got enough to eat. You know why? Because they kill all useless eaters! So consider warning! Now let me see copy.

[MIKHAIL peers over MILES’ shoulder.]

“Senile Biden makes poo in front of Queen.” What is this? English is your first language! Is why we hire! You sound like drunken goat! Matt Taibbi writes better than this!

MILES: Since when do you care what it reads like? You always said, don’t make it pretty, just make propaganda. [Pointing to screen] If you read down you’ll see. These morons will come away convinced Biden shit himself in Buckingham Palace!

OLGA: Not today they won’t. All Russian servers are down.

MIKHAIL: [Runs to her desk] What? Impossible!

OLGA: Look at screens. ICANN pull plug.

MIKHAIL: OK, is problem for bot farms. But is not problem for us, we send our shit to American offices, they put it up.

SERGEI: [Getting up] You send your own shit, bossman. No more work from me until you cross my palm with rubles.

ARTYOM: [Getting up] Me too! And don’t try to pay us in crypto — we’re not stupid!

OLGA: [Getting up] You don’t pay, I go back to Minsk to be high-class call girl!

MILES: [Getting up] Oh wow, collective action! Wait’ll I tell the kids back in Bushwick about this!

[They all chant “Strike! Strike!”]

MIKHAIL: [Raising voice] OK, OK! Comrades! You don’t listen to me, I have someone you listen to. [Calls] OK, boss!

[BEN SHAPIRO enters, wearing a grey suit with a white shirt and black tie, a Rolex, and expensive athletic shoes. The workers stare at him.]

SHAPIRO: [Rapidly] OK you guys, listen, I know these are tough times, no doubt, I’ve seen tough times too, like when I started at Harvard I had like zero friends, and I was every bit the scintillating conversationalist I am now, but I was cancelcultured, even before they had a word for it, just straight cancelcultured because I didn’t toe the liberal line, and I could have quit, sure, I could have said screw this, many times I said screw this, but something inside me said no, hang in there, Ben, ever if these social justice warriors don’t like you, major conservative donors will.

[OLGA, MILES, SERGEI, and ARTYOM move closer to SHAPIRO.]

And I was right, they did, and the rest is history, but I had to work hard, and I had to have help, and that’s where you come in, because I don’t know if you know this but! Your problems are my problems too, because even though I can’t support, that is I can’t officially support, every single foreign policy decision your country makes, I have always supported the Russian people, totally! And when I says support I mean support with investments, like the contracts I signed with your company to create content and Facebook pages and mirror sites and bot farms that keep my engagement up, and trust me, I’m happy to do it, but!  Now that liberal governments have lashed out at your beautiful country, and I really do think it’s beautiful, my numbers are in free-fall, it’s like, OMG holy shit, [giggles] so you and I, all of us, we have the same problem. So! I —

SERGEI: Nice watch.

[OLGA, MILES, SERGEI, and ARTYOM move even closer to SHAPIRO, who covers his Rolex with his jacket sleeve. They tower over him.]

So! I know it’s tough times for you, and it’s tough times for me, it’s tough times for everyone. But we have to persevere. We just have to ride this out. You’ll have hard days, maybe you’ll have to work ‘round the clock, maybe wait just a little bit longer for your paycheck, but like Mikhail says, comes the day, and I don’t say this officially and I’ll deny it if you tell anyone, but comes the day when you defeat and overrun Ukraine, and I know you will, trust me, there’ll be plenty of money, plenty for everyone and —

ARTYOM: Hey.

SHAPIRO: [Rattled, looks at ARTYOM] What?

[ARTYOM steps up and faces SHAPIRO. Quietly:]

ARTYOM: You dropped your wallet.

SHAPIRO: [Looks around] Oh, where?

[ARTYOM digs his hand inside SHAPIRO’s jacket and pulls out a wallet.]

ARTYOM: Here!

[OLGA, MILES, SERGEI, and ARTYOM mob and beat and strip SHAPIRO as MIKHAIL tries vainly to put them off, then runs to get help. Music: Mussorgsky, “The Great Gate of Kiev.”]