WHEW! Exaggerated sigh of relief! Being overthrown is stressful, so it’s great to be here in the refuge of the Kremlin where there is no cause to worry about threats to my life.
Yes, the rumours are true. I had to leave Syria, my country and my heart, after rebel forces violently seized power, but don’t worry about me. Old Bashar al-Assad’s got friends in high places. I’d like to see anyone get me in Moscow!
Honestly, I’m chill. The pressures of running a brutal dictatorship have melted away and I’m free to hang with my pal Putin, a man famous for his hospitality and unconditionally forgiving those who disappoint him.
You couldn’t ask for a better bolthole than the Russian corridors of power. Armed guards in pristine uniforms goosestep their way around the perimeter night and day. And so many secret police! Who can reach me with those boys about?
Putin’s so understanding. ‘I’ve lost a lot of friends recently,’ he told me, ‘often through high windows. I can’t so much as see a pal onto a private plane without worrying I’ll never see them again.’
‘Don’t worry about losing Syria, despite the massive military effort and millions I poured into securing it,’ he continued. ‘As long as you and your assets are safe. Let’s get your money moved over here so you feel even more secure.’
So yes, I miss my nation and my people and all the basking in their love I used to do. But when you’ve got a guy like Vlad behind you, your worries just melt away.
I heard him say ‘he won’t be here long’ to an aide, so I presume he’ll soon be withdrawing from Ukraine and refocusing his army on getting Syria back. What a guy. What a friend.