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Photo CARTOON "Red Lisa"

The year 2938 saw the discovery of blue oil on the Moon, bringing unspeakable joy to humanity. Large-scale extraction of this extraterrestrial fossil shortly followed.

This resulted in a catastrophe two years later: the Moon split up into three pieces, one of which deorbited.

This celestial visitor entered the Earth’ atmosphere and hit Colorado, thus putting an end to the existence of the North American continent.

This celestial visitor entered the Earth’ atmosphere and hit Colorado, thus putting an end to the existence of the North American continent.

The only thing left of the torch of democracy and justice was the Statue of Liberty, hurled by the blast all the way to Russian Chukotka.

For three subsequent years the planet was ravaged by tempests, hurricanes, and previously unknown epidemics. But even this hostile environment left survivors.

These survivors flocked into packs to better resist hardships. Hundreds of belligerent tribes and clans trod a devastated planet, their daily clashes being in full compliance with Darwin’s theory of natural selection.

In one such tribe, a wonderful and possibly very kind woman gave birth to a girl. The mother called the baby Lisa shortly before dying of the abundance of the heart.

Lisa was adopted by the tribe. She was brought up by everybody, i.e. by nobody in particular. So what she became, she became.

When Lisa turned five she found a dozen darts at the ruins of a pub.

She practiced darts on rats that were swarming in deserted sewers. When she killed a rodent she devoured it on the spot, while its blood was still warm and unclotted. This was how Lisa sustained herself.

At 12 Lisa wielded the bow perfectly: she could put an arrow through a bat’s eye at a hundred paces. Her mission was supplying the tribe with murine, feline, and canine meat procured from nearby parks and woods.

Single-eyed Sysoi, chief of the Sanguinary Sickles tribe Lisa belonged to, would extol her:
- Atta girl! There is no match for her.
He accompanied these exclamations by much scratching of head with his crutch and respectful single-eyed appraisal of animal carcasses piled at his feet.

When Lisa turned 18 Single-eyed Sysoi no longer scratched his head with his mossy crutch: he gnawed at it longingly while peeping from behind the shrubs at Lisa’s bathing in the waterfall.
- Atta girl! There is no match for her, - Sysoi sighed.

Lisa was really a head-turner. She had been promoted to the tribe’s official pathfinder. Wielding all types of weapons, she preferred the two-handed sword.
- My Excalibur, - she called it affectionately, and caressed the handle with both hands.

Lisa was always on the move, reconnoitering new locations where her tribe could live a better, merrier, and more solid life.

Once Lisa found a wonderful site – an abandoned army depot with a stock of tinned stew, next to a river and forest.

Lisa dreamed cheerfully of how Single-eyed Sysoi would decorate her for this feat with a bikini-shaped personal chain armor.

All the tribe warriors would surely dribble at the sight of her, and would probably fancy her to palm blisters.

No way.
Lisa found she was not the sole claimant upon the site. Another franc tireur was standing amid stew crates, his menacing air forcing Lisa to come down from her dreams.

- It’s my territory so beat it, - the stranger asked politely. He had a hefty club in his hand.
- My clan will deploy here, - he added, and hurled the club at Lisa.

The stranger proved not so dexterous, the reason being chronic undernourishment he had been subjected to during the past several years. He soon found himself cast to the ground, with Lisa, a beautiful angel of death, trampling his chest and tickling his Adam’s apple with the edge of her sword.

No bloody outcome followed, however. Their nice conversation was interrupted. A ragamuffin crowd had surrounded the battlefield.

Possessed half-men, half-beasts, dressed in rags of what once were uniforms of the Russian army, were inexorably tightening the ring on Lisa and the stranger.

Their faces were distorted with rage, their fetid mouths were spattering scum.

The possessed tied Lisa and the stranger to poles like boars and dragged them to their den.

Their gang was headquartered in a ruined church.

The gang leader, a former colonel of the Russian army named Addle, loved to play music. His subordinates had once found a grand piano somewhere, and now Addle was playing martial music as a platoon of nutcases marched to and fro in parade formation before his eyes.

When Addle saw Lisa he got doubled-up with ecstasy. He had never seen anything like her in all his two-bit life.

He pictured Lisa in a wedding piece of chain armor, self in full rags, standing at the altar.

When the vision faded, Addle announced that he would immediately, the very next morning, marry the pretty captive.

Pending the ceremony, the prisoners were locked up in the church basement, with coffins and wooden crosses to keep them company. It was there that they finally got acquainted.

The stranger, named Mikhei, turned out a gunsmith with the tribe of Saturnalian Communism. He was a jack-of-all-trades and generally smart. The first thing he did in confinement was to work out a plan of their escape, which Lisa approved.

Mikhei got talking to the warden, and offered him a strip show, starring Lisa, for a token fee.
- Haven’t seen a naked woman in my life, - the warden complained, - I’d take a peek for a couple tins of stew.

Lisa had a knack for stripping. Her way of taking off armor, wristlets, and other accessories was pretty much ardent.

The warden was sweating and trembling. In the heat of the show he even bit the tip of his tongue, but didn’t notice it.

Neither did he notice Mikhei coming up from behind and lifting a heavy oaken cross down on his head.

The warden was left lying on the earthen basement floor, his tongue stuck out and the image of a naked Lisa in his glassy eyes. A beautiful death becoming a true warrior.

Before running away with Mikhei Lisa stole her sword from the colonel’s armory. She couldn’t possibly leave her weapon to the enemy. Once the sword was in her hands, Lisa quivered and pressed her plump lips to the coolness of its ancient steel. Mikhei’s eyes watered.

When Colonel Addle learned about his bride’s escape, he became more possessed than was typical of his armed unit.

He was rushing about his headquarters, his granddad’s saber atilt. His loyal subjects that chanced to be around were rapidly losing limbs.

On the next morning the colonel detached dozens of mobile groups, led by the most possessed members of his gang, to search for the escaped bride.

But Lisa and Mikhei were already far away. Three days later they reached the encampment of the Single-Eyed Sysoi’s tribe, and Lisa briefed the chief on what she had been through.

Sysoi had heard about Colonel Addle. After Lisa told her story he got absorbed in thought. From what Sysoi knew, Addle’s gang was the bloodiest around. This meant a war was imminent.

Sysoi had heard about Colonel Addle. After Lisa told her story he got absorbed in thought. From what Sysoi knew, Addle’s gang was the bloodiest around. This meant a war was imminent.

Mikhei aided his new friends. He made arbalests, repaired all sorts of automatic firearms from AK-47s to six-barrel machineguns, and forged scimitars and arrowheads.

- Why don’t you return to your tribe? – Lisa asked him one day as Mikhei was trimming an arbalest.

Then Mikhei confessed that he had been disgracefully expelled from the tribe, stamped for life as a “jerk insusceptible to the ideas of Saturnalian Communism”. His tribal kin promised to castrate him if they caught him anywhere near their camp.

Single-eyed Sysoi permitted Mikhei to stay in the tribe forever, appointed him as Lisa’s assistant, and wished him success in seducing the girl. While saying this Sysoi was bearing an unambiguous smile on his face.

Mikhei was not slow on the uptake. He used a scimitar to raze before a mirror splinter, cleaned his only clothes, and directed his steps to Lisa.

Lisa was steambathing. She lashed herself furiously with a flag broom and groaned with pleasure.

Encouraged by single-eyed Sysoi, Mikhei entered the bathhouse without as much as knocking. In his hand was a bouquet of wildflowers, which immediately withered because of the heat.

Later Mikhei would often recall, over a bottle of home brew, what happened afterwards.

Lisa was gorgeous, broom leaves sticking erotically to her youthful bosom and slender thighs.

That was the last thing Mikhei remembered. He heard the sound of air-slashing steel, felt sharp pain in his groin, and redded out.

Much later Mikhei made himself a prosthetic appliance identical to the original. He even married, although Lisa had nothing to do with it.

Nevertheless, Mikhei newer held it against Lisa, and was always revering her as his ideal.

As for Lisa, she swore on her sword that she would not give her heart to anyone until the last enemy was hacked to pieces.

And the heaven heard her pledge, and sent a lightning from a clear sky.