**Nova Domov Capital Airport**

The airplane touched down on the tarmac, coasting along to a slow crawl as the local air traffic control directed the airplane of the South American leader. There was a reserved business to the activity on the tarmac. Hastily doing their work to direct and see to the airplane. But not busying themselves so much as to cause potential insult or even show as if they would endanger the men aboard.

The jet engines fell low. The intensity of their burn lowering to a slightly more tolerable rumble as the slick and pearl-white private jet braked. Already a black limousine waited on the tarmac next to it as it lowered its purple-velvet lines entry steps. Unfolding onto the ground Dave and his entourage made quick to get into the limousine and be on their way, not wishing to be late.

With a thud the limo doors slammed shut behind them, and the Mulp delegation was on their way.

“I suppose I should go over the published outline for today's summit.” said Chico, “If for posterity.”

“You could.” Dave responded, reclining back against the plush crimson seats of the limo's interior cab. His greasy green stare turned over to the side, where he noticed the mini-fridge tucked in under neath the window seats. “But can you?” he added, with a toyish smile.

“Your excellency, this is not a game. I certainly can.” Chico snapped.

“Oh!” Dave called sternly, leaning to the refrigerator, “Don't be rude! I am the Pretty Pony Princess.” he remarked with a smug look.

The reminder of Chico's position on the pecking order shut him up. He gave a long drawn out sigh. “Very well.” he began, “The main purpose of the summit here today is to discuss acts of accused terrorism between the states of Lagita and Monrot. No doubt Nova Domov may seek a way to encourage the international community to condemn them to pressure the two states from going to war. We're going to no doubt be asked to condemn the acts of terrorism in this international summit, and commit to make moves against it.

“Besides this, I assume we could always use it to make our own personal gains. If you would I will represent our nation on the floor and you can sulk about the backrooms pursuing whatever goals you want, or you can go on the floor. Either way, my Pretty Pony Princess.”

“Oh, that's find. I'll go on the floor.” Dave said, agitated, “But we got a problem.”

“And what would that be?”

“Motherfuckers didn't pack me any Mountain Dew!? How am I supposed to function without my Politics Fuel, DAMMIT!”

Chico stared blankly towards the arcing figure leaning into the mini-fridge like some possessed boa constrictor. He again sighed. “I'll see what I can set up when we arrive.” he said unenthusiastically.