"I got twelve years hard labour for speaking out against Gennady Karasov", says the first.
"That's funny, I got twelve years hard labour for supporting Gennady Karasov!" says the second. Attention turns to the last man.
"I am Gennady Karasov".
-----
Three men have to share a hotel room in Chelyabinsk during a congress. Naturally, in the evening, they start drinking. One thing leads to another, and they find themselves telling political jokes. Concerns that any of the others may be KGB informants or that the room may be bugged are readily dissolved in alcohol. Everybody is having a great time.
One is tired and really feels like sleeping; he decides to pull a joke on the others. He excuses himself, runs to the lobby and gives the receptionist a few bills. "Please send someone to my room with a bottle of vodka, some rye bread and salt in ten minutes." He then returns to the room.
After a few minutes, he notes to the others that stocks of refreshments are running low. "Not to worry, comrades! I have good contacts."
He leans over towards the potted plant in the corner, grabs it and loudly says, as if speaking into a microphone:
"Comrades at the listening post, this is lieutenant Dyatlov! We urgently require a bottle of vodka, some rye bread and salt to our room! Make haste!"
The others laugh their asses off - until a minute later, there's a knock on the door and vodka, salt and rye bread is served.
You could hear a pin drop. Our man goes to sleep, enjoying the quiet.
When he wakes up in the morning, the others are gone. A note is left on the table. "Comrade! A couple of your jokes yesterday would easily get you to Siberia! (The one about Stalin's maid, while hysterical, could get you in front of a firing squad!!!) However, we liked that room service joke so much, we'll let you off the hook this time. Sincerely, KGB."
