Putin is afraid that on May 9 he’ll get whacked by a drone right on the mausoleum.

Putin is afraid that on May 9 he’ll get whacked by a drone right on the mausoleum.

Those fears are justified.

He really could be torn apart alive, splattering GUM with pus and Botox.

That would be an impressive death, too, under the “thunderous, prolonged applause” of all of Red Square and the broadcast audience.

However, the RF president’s “asshole” decided otherwise.

The ghoul chickened out and made a “call to a friend.”

Putin threw himself at Trump’s “feet”: bowed, cackled, and licked his lips.

He begged for a “ceasefire” on Victory-Frenzy Day.

(Why he asked Trump rather than Zelensky is a separate mystery).

Still, having stepped on his own “Russian pride,” Putin immediately reminded everyone that he is a stubborn maniac and will not back away from the “goals of the SMO.”

The goals are known:

“Kyiv in ruins, the total genocide of Ukraine, a global ‘Bucha,’ five million corpses, and Zelensky’s head in a Kremlin salad bowl.”

The “call to a friend,” however, came at just the right time.

Trump had spent all his emotional and mental strength on hosting King Charles and was fully in the grip of dementia.

Another filthy, nasty conversation took place.

The frightened Putin lied like a cheap horse, whined, and begged.

Having kindly listened to the ghoul, Trump’s dementia nodded into the receiver and then gave a "press conference.

Mixing up Iran with Ukraine, it announced that all 159 Ukrainian warships had been sunk by the अमेरिकी Air Force and were lying at the bottom of the Persian Gulf, and that uranium enrichment must not be allowed, because the scoundrel gets rich and pays no taxes.

The press was a bit stunned, but the frontotemporal condition could no longer be stopped. It carried her away.

As a result, the media, smirking maliciously, published a set of statements by the US president that will undoubtedly adorn every psychiatry textbook.

Nevzorov

@nevzorovtv