By the joint efforts of journalists, police, and employees of the Ministry of Emergency Situations, Azerbaijan has finally dealt with the photos of General Andranik Ozanyan (or maybe Peter Montin?). Panic in Baku may decline. However, questions remain whose answers may deprive the residents of the capital of Azerbaijan of sleep.
For example, how did the illustrious Armenian General Andranik manage to stay in Baku for more than two years? And one more thing – is that why houses in Baku blow up daily, roads collapse, and furious city residents chop each other with axes? Because a conspiracy group of Andranik’s comrades-in-arms is operating in the Azerbaijani capital?
Be that as it may, it must be admitted that they have dealt with the photo of General Andranik in Baku.
There was panic in Baku this morning. Renowned Azerbaijani political scientist and historian Vugar Seyidov who lives in Budapest discovered a photograph of Armenian general Andranik Ozanyan on the signboard of the Montinburg restaurant.
A photo of Andranik himself who has killed thousands of Turkish askers and saved tens of thousands of Armenian children. Andranik whose name’s mere mention would put the askers into panic and retreat. Andranik who has triumphantly entered the Armenian Nakhijevan. The very Andranik about whom the Transcaucasian Turks dared to compose stupid stories only decades after his death
There can be no mistake. Andranik was identified, as already mentioned, by the best political scientist in Azerbaijan, who aptly described the country as “getverankhana” and its capital Baku as a trash can. It was this perspicacious political scientist and historian who discovered General Andranik in Baku, at 23, Arif Heydarov St.
Baku-based journalists, having gathered in a frightened flock, fled to Montinburg to make sure that the famous executioner of both Anatolian and Caucasian Turkish askers was indeed present in the city.
However, the restaurant staff were trained people. “This is not Andranik but Montin,” they said and showed another photograph, now hanged by the exit of the restaurant.
Journalists had to leave empty-handed – just like the Turkish askers would do at the sight of Andranik. And just like them, the descendants of those battered askers – the Azerbaijani journalists – decided to snap back from afar:
“We hope that after our publication, the owners of the Montinburg restaurant will quickly correct the annoying mistake and change the photo on the signboard to the real Montin.”
Then, after good pondering, the Azerbaijani heroes of the virtual front decided to play it safe: “Although maybe we are mistaken, and the photo really portrays one of the members of the family that founded the Montin plant. But to have such similarity?”