Cotton-Pickin' Communists

The Confederate States of America had decided to entrust a special mission to Jafnastaten Ambassador, Charles Maxwell, to visit the Proletarian Collective of Jafnastaten with the goal of establishing an economic treaty of sorts, or at least striking a deal with the hard-liner government of the world's most northern nation.

Upon arriving at the designated area, after a long and dreary trip across the Canadian wilderness, Charles Maxwell of the esteemed Confederate States extended his hand, awaiting to take and shake the Jafnastaten official's hand. "I reckon 'yer the fella' I need's to be seein', Mister...?" Unlike his formality in dialect, the handshake was firm and strong, just like the industrial backbone of the Confederacy, the seceding country that had taken on the odds-on favorite and prevailed. The Union was gone, most of it, and only the South stood, as well as that pesky Texan Federation.

Otto Blehr, the designated Jafnan official, shook the American's hand. "Nice to see you Ambassador Maxwell" he said. "I gather your journey was a pleasant one?" he joked, knowing that the ambassador had chosen not to take a flight to Jafnastaten. "Come, its cold out here, and I doubt you traveled across all of Canada to freeze out in the snow." he remarked, gesturing towards the large door.

Most of the PCJ was covered in snow at all times of the year, particularly Gruntland, the capital republic. At any one time, there was snow on the ground in Gruntland, and it was always cold.

"Ya don't mind if I's call ya Ollie, do ya? No offense meant, sir, it jus' easier 'fer me to 'member is all. As fer my trip, it was as enjoyable as a castrated male in a harem.", said the Confederate Ambassador chuckling as he finished shaking hands and followed the Jafnan inside where it was warmer. "Well, I'll be 'uh horny toad's uncle, it sure is a world of difference in here. It almost makes me fer'get my flight here, but it does pose the question, how do y'all stand it here? It ain't no wonder why y'all have a difficult time growin' crops, but that's why I'm here I reckon, eh?"

Blehr shrugged, he had gotten so used to the cold it hardly bothered him. "Yes, agriculture is probably the biggest shortcoming of this land." he answered truthfully. "We have often had trouble obtaining the necessary food products to feed our people well, often due to conflicting ideology unfortunately, its a shame people today still believe that a mans beliefs are more important than whether or not he can eat." he said cooly, halting before a split hallway. "Now, would you like to visit the bar," he said gesturing toward the right hallway. "or the restaurants?" gesturing toward the left hallway.

"I'd like to get as much out of this as possible, but quickly. An' 'sides, I could use a good drink right 'bout now, so the bar it is."

Following the Jafnan down the hall. "Fancy place y'all got here, how much it run ya? Must'uh been a doosie, I reckon." The Confederate official was impressed, though only slightly. These Jafnans had been hard at work it seems, too hard. "So, Ollie, what 'cha thinkin'? We ship ya some of our cotton, you send us some oil... or is that too much for ya?"

"Certainly," Blehr said, striding the down the hall. "Although, we will also buy any other agricultural products you may offer." Blehr pushed open the door, revealing the bar.

It wasn't exactly the kind of bar you would find in the average town, it was a tad bit more formal and ornate than that. In the far Southern corner, a piano sat, being played of course by a pianist. Behind the counter, a vivid display of liquors and wines were displayed, hundreds of variants.

Smiling, the Confederate continued. "That's great to hear, Ollie ol' buddy! I reckon we'll be gettin' pretty close economically an' all! But if jus' fer a moment I may, I'd like to get serious. In the Confederacy, we're willin' to send you workin' hands to aid in the fields or other sections of Jafnan society, we get plenty of 'em down south, so it won't be a bother to sell some of 'em."

Saying this, the Southerner took a moment to glance around, nodding and being impressed. "Quite the shindig ya got here, sir. I'm guessin' it makes quite an impression on the ladies! Ha ha ha!", slapping his knee, he continued, "But on that matter of other products, what else do ya need? We got a lot, an' we're willin' to offer what we can, for the right price of course."