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In a harsh, extremely cold winter, few years from now, an old but still strong man is moving slowly toward the lights of a small pub, half buried in the snow, in a dark village, lost somewhere in the plains around eBudapest. Finally, with a deep sigh, he open the door and enter.

The sudden burst of frozen air made all the eyes in the pub to turn to the door. And there he stood, a tall and heavy man. Most of the men and women inside smile. They are locals, they know who the man is, they love and admire him. The few strangers look at him as he move slowly toward the center of the room, to a table that was kept reserved by the pub owner, saluting everybody. He doesn’t need to ask for a drink, as it’s one of the usual, and the blond and fatty girl rush from the bar with a bottle of palinka and a big glass.

Slowly, the chatter fill the air again in the hot pub, while the old man just stand there, sipping his drink, lost in his thoughts. Few words, from a table near him, make him smile “Hero, eSlovakia, epic victory”. Then a young boy, around 16 years old, come to his table. “Is this true, sir? Do you really fight in the battle of eSlovakia? I learn about that in school, but I never meet somebody who was there. Can you tell us how it was?” said the boy, his eyes full of awe, his voice slightly trembling.

The old man look around. All the eyes in the room are again on him, waiting to hear the story again, even if he told them the same words hundreds of times. He smile, and with a deep voice answer to the boy: “Ighen, kiskutyát, I was there. From the beginning to the end”. Then he took a long drink, while everybody in the room come closer, eager to hear every word.

“Back then, eSlovakia was, maybe, the biggest threat for eHungary. We know that it was just a matter of time till they will try to erase us from the map, so we decide to strike first”, he start the story, his voice becoming stronger with every word. “It took months of careful planning, long discussions with our allies, hard training for all the armies. We know to well who we have to deal with. We know well their might, their bloodthirsty ferocity, we know how dangerous the war it is for us. We were afraid, but we know that we had to do it”.

He took another sip of palinka. “And we marched toward the borders. eHungarians, eSerbians, eIndos, eGerman, eFrench, even eJapanese. The armies of a hundred e-nations, maybe. It was a glorious sight, but I know that everybody, from foot soldier to feldmarchals and mighty tanks, asked himself how many of us will return alive. We were just something more than 15.000 and we know that the enemies are in huge numbers, maybe 500 of them. But we marched toward the battle, the glory and maybe death. We were soldiers.

We attacked in four regions in the same time. I was commanding my battalion and the leaders o the army give us the honor to lead the battle. We were advancing with great caution, fearing a trap, but for few long hours nothing happened. Then I saw them and I feel the earth tremble, as they march toward us. A black, scary wall of warriors, all wearing dark suites, black ties and fearsome Q5 baseball batts. I start to count them, but I failed. There were so many of them, maybe one hundred.

Then they suddenly stopped. And I’ve seen him. Leoslovakidas. The beast who lead the eSlovak warriors. His eyes strike lightings, his voice sound like a thunder. ``What are you coming for, idiots? This is eSlovakia! Tonight you will dine in hell!`` he yelled at us and I fell, like each and any of my comrades, a burst of brown matter in my pants. Lucky for us, the wind goes toward eSlovaks and we saw all of them faces turning green from the smell. I look at may soldiers. I see fear in their eyes, I know that they see the same in mine. But we had to do it so I yelled, too: “For eHungary! For PEACE! Kill them all!”. And the battle start, furious, merciless, savage. Wave after wave of my comrades were crushed by the eSlovakian beasts. It was a slaughter house. But, slowly, step by step, we were wining. They can’t fight against our odor. It make them sick, weak.

That was the moment when I decided to strike. I attacked directly toward Leoslovakidas, We fight a lot. He was a fearsome and savage opponent, but in the end I disarmed him, and he fall to the ground, beaten. I cried ``VICTORY!`` and I show Leoslovakidas weapon to all of my comrades. The battle was over. We won. That’s when they took that picture”, finished the old man his story, with a voice suddenly very tired.

His arm show the wall, where is hanged an old poster. It is the front page of an army revue, with the title “Day of our glory, day of our honor”. In the center of the picture it’s a much younger copy of the story teller. Huge, 2 meters tall, 120 kilos of trained muscle, wearing proud the eHungarian Hussars green uniform, a little blurred by the smoke from a destroyed eSerbian tank. His right arm it’s full of blood, but keep a strong grip on the handle of a colossal Q5 sword, with the tip on the ground. He yell, happy, his great mustache, the size of a bicycle handlebar, floating in the air. At his feet, sitting defeated on the bloody dust, it’s fearsome Leoslovakidas, crying. A savage beast, four years old, with pink face and big, blue eyes, full of tears. Leoslovakidas stared at his weapon, now showed with great pride by his giant enemy. The left arm of the young eHungarian commander is high in the air, showing to all the people on the battlefield the trophy: a red/white candy.

“Those were days of glory, son. It makes me fell sick when I look around now. We were called eHungary back then, and whole eWorld was afraid of us. Now how they call us? Western eRomania? I refuse to call my country this foul name. Damn those eRomanians and all their allies”. Suddenly, the old man is not smiling anymore. He rose slowly and leave the room, with a sad look and a tear in the corner of one eye. He is bubbling something, sounding like curses. Before he get out, he stopped for a second. Enough for those who are near to see what he keep in his han😛 a red/white candy.