Yaaaaargh!
Well, my left buttocks slipped from my oversized armchair (the one in the cockpit, not in front of my 16th century fireplace in my castle) and the blubber hit the rudder, utterly obliterating it.
And as you might know, my plane was custom built for me, so I cannot just take a spare.
Due to incessant Allied bombardments, the Deutsche economy is in a poor state, and Luftwaffe command cannot find the money to replace the rudders. They have however promised me that by June, the economy should be looking up to a satisfactory degree.
And yes, my gut, which I think is a leftover from the time we evolved from the Mammoths (we Preussians have a different evolutionary heritage than you plebeians) is teelling me I must be goink und kheel ze peegdogks! Ach! I shall have to wait!
Enjoy your time. Soon enough, I shall place your burning corpse (bottom side up) next to ze sauerkraut wearing pink g-strings!
Ze news of kammerat Saw and Oct is fine indeed. They keep alive the male bonding of the fine officers here in Preussia. Or is it the malke bondage? Bothhave glorious pasts, doesn't really matter. Although I hope it is the latter, and I hope they caught it on film. Am running low on allierte POW (which I assume means Please vOnSanta Wery much) so some other distraction would be much appreciated. There's so little good leather and latex stuff nowadays, with all the stuff going to front line troops. Damn der SS! Always get the good stuff.
So my praise to my brothers. They work on our fine principle: 'everything can be solved with the right combination of violence, vaseline and duct tape'. May they send more allierte schweinhund people falling from the sky, so they can be brought into my pink, red and black chamber of pleasure (for me) and extreme discomfort (for ze dogks).
Mein herren. I must offgass in der gas chamber (aka WC).