Yes, a Ban on Russian Vodka Would Actually Be the End of the World
For those of you either too deep in a Snapchat fugue or too busy hate-binging Fuller House, allow me to bring you up to our current cultural velocity. A great many PATRIOTIC AMERICANS are going a little bit crazy these days.
On one side you have folk who believe the alleged interference by Moscow—based on reports from several major U.S. Intelligence agencies—poses a direct threat to our democratic system of government. On the other side are those who wish everyone would stop with all this stupid talk about intelligence and start making America great again.
But it’s critical that we all agree on one thing: We should not ban Russian vodka.
According to a report on Boston.com, New Hampshire State Sen. Jeff Woodburn (D) has had enough of Russia taking shots at this country, so he wants to ban their shots from stores. He’s introduced a bill to enact punitive sanctions against Putin-town that would prohibit sales of Russian-made booze in the Granite State. “Foreign interference in our elections not only undermines our Constitutional democracy, but our independence and sovereignty,” he added.
I hate to break it to you, Jeff, but this is the way the world ends. Making Stoli illegal in Portsmouth will set us on a slippery slope toward an all-out global booze war. Here’s how it goes down.
World War Whiskey
After New Hampshire draws first blood, legislators in the southern border states get wind of New Hampshire’s spirits sanction and decide to ban tequila unless Mexico agrees to pay for the Great Wall of Trump. In retaliation, Mexico vows to boycott bourbon until the wall comes down.
Tequila and bourbon sales plummet, and distillers in both countries are forced to close, laying off all their workers. Those workers, of course, have keys to the warehouses where all that unsold liquor is stored. Naturally, the liquor is liberated, beginning a six-month party known as The Schnockered Rebellion. Afterward, however, all booze in North America is depleted, and with the companies that made it gone, there’s no way to replace it. The sobriety years are upon us.
The Regan Years
President Regan sails into the Oval Office in 2020 by promising to “Make America Drunk Again.” (And no that’s not a typo in his name. I’m not talking about Ronald. I’m talking about Gaz, whose brand of Reganomics is less trickle-down and more heavy-pour—not to mention finger-stirred.) Unfortunately, with liquor production shut down, it’s hard for him to make good on his campaign slogan. Attempts to mine residual liquor from Regan’s skin and hair, while successful, yield only enough ethanol for 5,000 bottles of booze, all of which are consumed before they make it off the White House grounds.
Meanwhile, across the pond, Germany outlaws British gin in protest of Brexit. The Brits, still bent out of shape about the Blitzkrieg, ban German hooch. When the U.K.’s stocks of Jagermeister and Rumple Minze run out, it triggers a mass exodus of Brits between the ages of 18 and 25, crippling the country’s service economy. France, for no apparent reason other than always wanting to be on the losing side of a fight, bans everything not made in France. This infuriates the Italians, who’ve been kept afloat since World War II by Paris’ epic consumption of Campari. In a desperate move, they firebomb their own factories, causing a world-wide shortage of vermouth and amaro.
President Regan decries this “a brazen assault on cocktail culture,” and launches a preemptive strike on Djibouti hereafter known as the “Aperitif to Armageddon.” When asked why he chose Djibouti when the country was seemingly uninvolved, Regan famously replies, “Because I like tappin’ Djibouti.”
By 2022, Switzerland is the only country still producing booze, which means all anyone can drink is absinthe. By 2023, the world’s drinkers have been driven mad, and a rash of Van-Gogh-like ear-cutting breaks out across the globe, increasing global tension because no one can hear each other anymore. Around this time, President Regan is appointed Generalissimo For Life of the new One World government (motto: Who do I have to blow up to get a Negroni around here?). When asked for comment, several citizens replied, “What’s that? Can you speak up?”
Go Trump Yourself
I think I’ve proven my point. New Hampshire State Sen. Woodburn needs to slow his roll with this vodka ban business. In any case, the best way to disentangle the United States from Russian influence isn’t to shun Russian vodka, but to praise it. What we need is a concerted online campaign to compare Trump Vodka unfavorably to Russian Standard.
Sure, Trump Vodka went belly-up years ago because it was made of hog sweat and the tears of immigrant children, but we’re dealing with a man who recently took time out of his busy pretending-to-prep-for-the-presidency schedule to trash Arnold Schwarzenegger over ratings for a show he hasn’t been on for years. It’s only a matter of time—that time being between the hours of 3 a.m. and 5 a.m.—before Trumplethinskin goes on the attack against Russia and his ol’ pal Vlad. The Russians won’t take kindly to Trump’s Twitter slams. They retaliate with the release of some video of Trump from 2013 agreeing wholeheartedly with Elizabeth Warren in a Moscow hotel room. Russian puppet problem SOLVED.
We’ll be in another Cold War, of course, but I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that America is UNDEFEATED in Cold Wars (the hot ones not so much).
So it’s settled. The best way to make America great again is to consume as much Russian vodka as possible. Drink it loud, drink it proud, and spew the good news all over the internet. At this pivotal time in our history, we mustn’t ask what our country can tweet for us, but what we can tweet for our country. #NeverTrumpVodka #EmperorGaz #WhatWouldWodkaDo