Chapter Text
It was a dark and stormy night in Kyiv and the skies were filled with Russian missiles. Volodymyr Zelensky, the president of Ukraine, was hiding in his presidential house. He tried his best to keep his eyes from falling, but he couldn’t help it; he was heartbroken. How could this have happened to him? He thought he knew the Russians, but his longtime friend, Vladimir Putin, hadn’t returned his texts for days at this point. Why? Was it because of that time they met up for drinks, and Zelensky turned down Putin’s vodka for borscht? (Zelensky had been on the phone with Joe Biden, and Biden had told him that Putin had probably poisoned the vodka. Top secret intelligence from the CIA, Biden had explained. Putin would never though, would he?)
These days, everything was a blur. Zelensky felt that he didn’t even know himself. Like, he and Putin had always been close… Why would the Russian just cut him off like that?
Just then, a Russian bomb fell from the sky. It was… heading straight for Zelensky!!! Shit, maybe the Americans were right. Maybe Putin just couldn’t be trusted. Maybe…
Zelensky closed his eyes as the bomb streaked towards him with a terrifying whistle, and he thought to himself that if he were to part with his life right then, it would’ve been a good one. He thought of his mother, his father. Of… Putin…
KRAAAK! The bomb flew into the ground right by Zelensky, and after some seconds, he slowly opened his eyes with astonishment. Had he died? Was this the afterlife? No! By a miracle it seemed that the bomb had not exploded, and instead was sticking out of the concrete like a *bombastic metaphor*
He looked to the bomb, and saw it: there it was, streaming off the bomb’s tail like a flag on a flagpole was what seemed to be a handwritten message:
“My dear friend,
It is me. I have been thinking much of these past few days. I know you are angry, and upset, but please allow me to explain. I cannot speak of this matter via a letter though, please if you want to hear from me, you’ll have to come to Moscow to see me. I hope you can understand.
From Russia with Love,
Vladimir Putin”
Whaaaaaat???????? Zelensky could hardly believe his eyes. He had thought his friendship with Putin was long over by this point, gone, relegated to history like the Soviet Union. But clearly there was something that the Russian leader wanted from him. What could it be? And why did he have to go to Moscow for this? Was it a trick? A trap?
Zelensky knew what he had to do. He had to go. In normal times he would’ve called an Uber to the airport and flew, but this was war. He reached for his Nokia phone (Nokia being a Finnish company, and Zelensky loved Finland) and called for his defense minister.
“Blyat, Defense Man. I need a ride to Moscow at once. Hurry!”
“To… to Moscow, sir? But that’s…”
“I know. I know it sounds crazy, but you have to trust me. Send me… the Ukrainemobile.”
The Ukrainemobile was the pride of the nation, a top secret repurposed T-72 Main Battle Tank built for speed, and had been designed with the help of Biden and his CIA. The tank rolled up to the Presidential Palace and screeched onto the curb with the agility of a Ferrari. A singular tear rolled down Zelensky’s cheeks as he was overwhelmed with emotion. He was going back. To Moscow… to Putin…
It was a 5 hour ride from Kyiv to Moscow (despite being a friggin tank, the Ukrainemobile, using top secret CIA technology, was able to travel at over 100 miles per hour), and those 5 hours were the longest, most agonizing hours of Zelensky’s life. At last, he looked out the Ukrainemobile’s periscope (tanks don’t have windows, of course, which admittedly was a drawback to using it for recreational rides), and outside he saw the wondrous tulip-shaped towers that was the Kremlin. He was in Moscow, ready to meet eye to eye with the man he had once called his best friend.
Zelensky stepped out of the tank (it was very hard, because it was a tank, but eventually he found the ladder leading back outside), and looked around him. Here it was raining, and his coat quickly became soaked. He was in the streets of Moscow, and checking Google Maps, he realized that the Russian Presidential Palace was just a block down the street! Thanking the driver, Zelensky ran down as fast as his Gen X legs could spare.
The Presidential Palace was huge (after all, Putin got dat oil and natural gas money), and Zelensky was reminded of something that Joe Biden had told him: “Listen here fat, I have no idea what I’m talking about, but uh well, you just can’t trust people with lots of oil money, right?” Suddenly, the gates to the palace opened and… there he was, in all his bald Russian glory!
“Vlad!” yelled Zelensky. “Same to you,” said Putin. And they ran into each other’s arms.
to be continued nyahahahahahahaha