Nasty Nazi

It’s Christmas time in 1942 as I walk through the snow caked streets of Berlin. In my gloved hand I hold a hand drawn map detailing the whereabouts of Hitler’s bunker. I follow the map carefully and eventually come to the address to find that it’s not so much of a bunker, but more of a terraced house.
I hesitate for a moment, then ring the doorbell. The blood red door creaked open slowly.
“Oh Rob it’s you! You made it! I can’t believe you actually came” said Hitler.
Before I could say my hellos he was pointing to his moustache, which he had clumsily died white “For the kids” he quipped.
“Oh that’s great you look just like him.” I replied.
“Well don’t stand out there in the cold come in come in.”
We walked through into the living room I noticed he had made paper chains of white swastikas and hung them around the room. “That’s my kind of snowflake” he said proudly, “They took me all morning you know.”
Before I knew it he had his hands behind his back prompting me to pick one. Left or right which one? Oh no don’t be silly you don’t have to give me a present.
WHICH ONE? he shouted, LEFT OR RIGHT.
I began to tremble. I could feel warm urine beginning to make its way to the floor via the inside of my leg. I pointed to his right side with my shaking finger, his face cracked back into a smile, “GOOD CHOICE” he said. With his right hand he handed me a snow shaker with a plastic character of him inside and with his right hand he put his revolver on the table.