THERE was a Russian man named Rudolph who was a high-ranking member of the KGB. One evening Rudolph and his wife were walking along and it began to snow.
“My, my, look at the lovely snow,” said his wife.
“No, that is not snow, it is rain!” Rudolph replied.
“Don’t be silly, darling,” his wife reproved him. “Of course it’s snow.”
“Look, there is a palace guard,” Rudolph said.
“We will ask him.”
So Rudolph went to the palace guard and asked: “Comrade, is it raining or snowing?”
The guard knew Rudolph was high up in the KGB, and that the wrong answer could be deadly. But he was no dummy, so he said: “What do you think it is doing, Rudolph?”
Rudolph replied: “I think it is raining.”
“Of course, comrade,” the guard replied effusively.
“I was going to say raining, also!”
So Rudolph and his wife went walking off, and as they did, the guard could just make out the KGB official say to his wife: “See? Rudolph, the Red, knows rain, dear.”