“Today, President Donald J. Trump brought Presidents Putin and Zelensky together to sign the peace accord that Trump negotiated with both leaders, a momentous achievement given the length and nature of the conflict between Russia and the Ukraine. President Zelensky looked downhearted as he signed the agreement that leaves all of the Ukrainian territory presently occupied by Russian armed forces in Putin’s hands and forces Zelensky to order the withdrawal of his forces in the Kursk area. Furthermore, all of the thousands of Ukrainain children who have been abducted and taken to Russia will remain there. Russia will not pay any reparations for the reconstruction of Ukrainian towns, cities and infrastructure.”

Further conditions of the deal mean that Ukraine will never join NATO and that President Zelensky will have to step down. He was quoted as saying: “After three years of struggle and deprivation and in spite of the devastation caused in my country and the thousands of my countryfolk killed and wounded, we have no choice but to accede to Putin’s demands. The withdrawal of support from the USA and its threat to withdraw from NATO has meant that the member states of that organisation have been forced to end their support as well. As a nation, we have endured so much…”

This won’t happen, will it? Surely, after supporting the Ukraine for so long, the USA will not desert its ally? Well, this is the only way that Trump will achieve his “peace deal in 24 hours that he has claimed he will bring about.

In 1938, Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain came back from Munich waving a piece of paper that he announced would mean “peace in our time”. He has gone down in history as a gullible buffoon, who essentially gave the green light to Hitler to annex the Sudetenland and, subsequently, launch the invasion of Poland. Can we compare Putin with Hitler? Both systematically eroded any sense of democracy and free speech in their countries. Both eliminated political opponents. Indeed, gravity must be a lot stronger in Russia than in other countries as it literally sucks Putin’s opponents out of hotel and hospital windows on a regular basis.

Surely Trump cannot be dumb enough to think that Putin will stop there? Trump said that Russia could “do whatever the hell they want” to NATO countries that don’t pay up in full. Sure, other border countries are members of NATO, so invading them would bring the UK, Germany, France et al into the conflict, but if Trump is serious in his lack of commitment to NATO or even to leave it, what resolve would the other countries have to, essentially, trigger World War 3? “Latvia, Lithuania? Who cares! I don’t even know where they are.” This is what you will hear.

Trump also said: “There’s nobody that’s better, smarter or a better leader than Viktor Orbán.” Hungary’s leader has constantly sided with Putin and has been sanctioned by the EU for his attacks on press freedom, judicial independence and the LGBTQ+ community. He has show skant regard for the rule of law and democratic values; small wonder that Trump likes him.

Before a lot of American start shouting “Why should we carry on paying for the war?” or “Why should our boys die in Europe to defend some Europeans?” maybe they should consider this simple fact. The Americans did not win the War of Independence against Great Britain alone. They had help. A hereditary monarchy helped a fledgling republic win the struggle to free it from the clutches of another hereditary monarchy. For 4 years, France provided much-needed supplies, arms and ammunition and, crucially, naval support. The French navy blockaded ports, preventing British ships from supplying their forces with equally much-needed supplies. Ironically, the French monarchy was overthrown around 15 years later, in a revolution inspired by the American one.

Now, what if France had decided that supporting the war was too expensive and had withdrawn that support after a couple of years? The phrase “cheese-eating surrender monkeys” came from the Simpsons and caught on in the US. T-shirts had the slogan “Iraq first, France next!” and the phrase “freedom fries” appeared after France’s opposition to the ill-fated invasion of Iraq, so can you imagine what Americans would feel about the French if they had done a runner in 1780?

If Trump does pull the rug out from under the feet of the Ukrainians, the USA will lose any credibility that it still has in the world. ‘Make American great again’? You’ve gotta be kidding.

Laura Loomer – yet another Trumpette who inflates the ex prez’ already dangerously inflated ego and tells him what he wants to hear instead of what he NEEDS to hear.

When a host of Republicans and even none other than arch-deep state hater Marjorie Taylor Greene takes a swipe at the rather masculine-looking LL, Donald might like to take notice of the criticism. Laura quipped that the White House “will smell like curry” if Kamala is elected. Ooh, Laura, naughty ‘girl’. Really though, a couple of decades ago in the UK, that comment would have been maybe mildly criticised but, in these woke/enlightened times, Mad Marje gave Laura both barrels, calling the comment “appalling and extremely racist”. Hang on, did MTG really say that? After all, this is the lady that refused to even call Dr. Fauci ‘doctor’ and slagged off UK PM David Cameron for “rude name-calling” and then, almost in the same breath, said that “he can kiss my ass.”

Marjorie might like to take some lessons in Irony. She also said, and I had to chortle at this one, that Loopy Loomer’s comments did “not represent who we are as Republicans or MAGA”. Oh come on Marje, really? That’s EXACTLY what MAGA is all about. Surely you cannot think that it was worse than Trump sharing a post on Truth Social which implied that Kamala Harris advanced in her career by…well, the post showed photos of Harris and Hillary Clinton with the comment: “Funny how blowjobs impacted both their careers differently…” For heaven’s sake, how low is Trump going to stoop? Is there nothing that is off-limits in US politics these days? Yes, free speech is important but should someone really be free to spout nasty lies about someone else and have it plastered all over the media? What constitutes defamation in the US? Let’s have a look:

A defamatory statement is one “with knowledge that it was false or with reckless disregard of whether it was false or not.”

Returning to Loopy Laura, she was even banned by Lyft and Uber for making disparaging remarks about Muslim drivers. Way to go Trump – have a person in your entourage who goes out of her way to alienate 4 and a half million in the country. Not that many all told, but Trump was desperately seeking 11,000 votes in Georgia.

The latest rumour is that Trump is going to have a set of golf clubs made that look like AK-47s…but, as with mascot-eating Haitian zombies in Springfield, Ohio, that is merely a rumour.

All empires fall eventually. The US Empire will be no different. They general start to crumble from within; a mixture of arrogance, decadence, complacency with the failure to update is the cause of the rot. They see others as inferior and incapable of being able to compete or, God forbid, outdo. Internal strife and division ensue and the encircling wolves pick up the sweet whiff of polemic blood.  

Donald J. Trump is the embodiment of that decadence and division. He will bring about the Fall of the US Empire. He has set the stage for the possibility of losing the election and this is where the real danger lies. His MAGAMEN (and women) are already prepared for this There will be a repeat of the 6th January, but on a national scale. Are the powers-that-be thinking that it would be better to have a maleable Trump in the White House for another four years than civil conflict. You can influence people before an election and you can, according to Trump, rig the voting. It was done for Kennedy and for GW, so why not for Donald? Maybe the members of Project 2025 and their friends are already working precisely on that. Donald, however, knows nothing about Project 2025, nor who is behind it. We all believe him, don’t we? Nothing but the truth from Donald J.

Trump will have people to guide/manipulate him again but this time they are locked and loaded. Project 2025 will turn the USA into one huge, bigoted, corporate, cross-burning Dodge City. God protected Trump from the assassin’s bullet and that has given him a messianic status amongst his loyal followers. He is God’s Holy Earlobe…or maybe the Devil’s.

Kevin Roberts of Project 2025 said: “Conservatives have just two years and one shot to get this right. With enemies at home and abroad, there is no margin for error. Time is running short. If we fail, the fight for the very idea of America may be lost.” Trump is their puppet Messiah but is he our Anti-Christ?

Trump may be an idiot (according to JD Vance in 2016) but he is no fool. His now adoring running mate also called Trump “reprehensible”, “noxious” and “a total fraud.” JD, what happened? Why do you cosy up to Trump now? He must have had a little chat with Ted Cruz, who labelled Trump “a sniveling coward”, “a small and petty man”, “utterly ammoral”, “a pathological liar” and “a serial philanderer”. Ted of the Cross, who lost the battle for Republican candidate to Trump, did a 360° flip-flop and enthusiastically clapped Donald, continuing to do so, oh-so-embarrassingly, even after the Great Leader had left the room, as if he were a North Korean general clapping Kim Jong-un (who should now be called Kim Jong-deux, given that he’s the size of two people.)

Enter the arena another flipper-flopper: Elon Musk. Previously a Democrat voter, he has now hitched his Space X Mars probe to Trump’s soaring star – why? Well, after the Great Biden Debate Debacle, Donald was a dead cert to occupy the White House again and Elon saw his chance. Even Trump’s aversion to electric cars was swatted away like an annoying fly. Now, he likes them, he has to after Elon’s endorsement. But Elon, get some coaching lessons in sounding sincere because you came across as fake, fake and triple fake, merely tolerating Trump’s equally fake and hollow platitudes – ‘expediency’ is the word that echoed around their bromantic chat.

Trump has called upon Musk to head a “government efficiency commission”. Elon has already shown how he achieves efficiency – by sacking Twitter staff and requiring the ones that remained to work a 300-hour week, with no salary and no holidays.  Turn the clock back 100 years and Musk would have ordered his heavies to fire on the Twitter strikers.

Getting back to JD Vance, isn’t it rather sinisterly coincidental that the PayPal founder, Peter Thiel, hired ‘Hillbilly’ Vance at his venture capital firm, Mithril Capital Management, then went on to cough up $10m to finance his Ohio Senate campaign? Elon pledged $45m a month to bankroll Trump’s election campaign. I hope that’s from his personal fortune.

So, what does Elon want for all that lovely loot; what does he stand to gain?

‘Starlink’: it sounds lovely, does it not? You picture gleaming beams criss-crossing the heavens. ‘Starlink; to boldly go where no internet service has gone before.’ 6,000 satellites, with another 12,000 planned to further clutter up Outer Space. SpaceX, of course, launches, customised military satellites as well. Musk is ringing the planet with his satellites. Why so many? What is his ultimate aim? Remember that he allowed the Ukrainian forces to use Starlink free. Now, if his good buddy wants to end the war in a day…

“Civil war is inevitable,” was his comment after a bunch of ugly, right-wing racists were paid to riot in the UK. No, civil war in the UK is not inevitable, Mr. Musk, if you don’t allow hatred and lies to be shared on your twittering platform. How long before X incorporates Truth (sic) Social? How long before Musk buys up media companies and imposes his free speeches into our Fox News/News Corp-induced brains?

I can’t help but picture Elon Musk in a grey suit, with a scar running across his eye, stroking a Persian cat as he checks the positions of his lovely, little satellites. We are sputnicks in his hands.

The essential danger with Trump is that he’s not nearly as smart as he thinks he is and Musk is acutely aware of this. Trump could not even understand the ironic stupidity in making disparaging remarks about Nikki Haley, the very person that he chose for the important position of US Ambassador to the UN.

“I aced it!” Trump exclaimed to his adoring, red baseball-capped crowd. He aced a cognitive test. Now, boasting about acing such a test is like an adult bragging about being able to walk and chew gum at the same time. Here is an example of a question in this type of test: there is a picture with a lion, a rhino and a giraffe and the subject is asked to identify the animals – “I aced it!!” You correctly identified 3 very well-known animals, Donald.

But Trump makes up for all of this by his love for his country, a love so deep and devoted that he could not bear to leave it to serve in Vietnam, even though he had attended a military academy where, according to him, he excelled at everything. Oh, those damned bone spurs that just flare up so quickly and unexpectedly. Must have been caused by all that football he played. He also loves his country so much that he has given a lot of money to accountants in order for them to work out ways to not pay tax. That annual $750 billion for the military doesn’t drop out of the sky, Donald.

Let’s go back to the Anti-Christ. Trump has courted the Christian fundamentalists in the USA and, astonishingly, they have largely backed him, in spite of his well-documented lying and philandering. Seems that they will vote for anyone who supports Israel unequivocably He moved the US embassy to Jerusalem, the energy centre of the world according to some; a hugely symbolic act that told Netanyahu and his hardliners “he’s our guy”.

C’mon Christians, let’s capture the Rapture.  

Yesterday, yet another bombing supposedly to target a “Hamas command post” resulted in the deaths of people who were sheltering from the mayhem in a UN centre, including children and six UN workers. Was there any condemnation from the USA? Nah, Haitian immigrants eating people’s pets was a far more novel and juicy titbit. It seems that there is an acceptable kill ratio; Israel is allowed to kill 10, 20, whatever Palestinians for every Jew. Nearly a year after, it still goes on. Blinken goes to Israel for the 68th time…restraint, respect for human life, obey international law….blah blah, yadda yadda. Israel trots out the same, precision strike nonsense and more innocent people die.  

What has Trump said about all this?

“I’m not sure that I’m loving the way they’re doing it, because you’ve got to have victory. You have to have a victory, and it’s taking a long time.”

“They’re releasing the most heinous, most horrible tapes of buildings falling down. And people are imagining there’s a lot of people in those buildings, or people in those buildings, and they don’t like it. They’re losing the PR war. They’re losing it big. But they’ve got to finish what they started, and they’ve got to finish it fast, and we have to get on with life.”

There it is – buildings falling down…the PR war…get it over. No mention of people.

US presidents appear to be likely candidates for the dubious honour of being labelled the Anti-Christ by the conservative religious right: John F. Kennedy, Ronald Reagan and Barack Obama for instance. The first and third I can understand, but Ronnie ‘True Blue’ Reagan?

“The Antichrist will be a world leader, he’ll have supernatural powers,” said Jerry Falwell, the evangelist. That could be describing Donald J. Trump, After all, he can dodge bullets, accusations of sexual assault by 26 women, being found guilty in the civil case of sexually abusing E. Jean Carroll, tax evasion, inciting insurrection, election interference, hiding thousands of classified documents (and showing them to his friends), cheating relatives out of the family inheritance…it goes on. He bears a charmed life. He has a guardian angel, but is it robed in white or black?

Now just think, if these multiple offences are the ones we know about, imagine all the others that have been buried over the course of his decadent, Epstein-fuelled life.

Ted Cruz was right in saying that Teflon Trump is ammoral, making it all the more shameful that the Texan is using his support of Trump for his bid for the White House in 2028.

Could Trump’s win-at-all-costs maxim precipitate WW3? On the face of it, no country could best the USA. It could whip any nation or group of nations with its aircraft carriers alone and its colossal military budget dwarfs those of other countries. But, imagine a huge natural disaster happening – the San Andreas Fault finally flips and Los Angeles crumbles into the Pacific Ocean or that mega-volcano beneath Yellowstone National Park decides to let rip and blankets the country in a dust cloud. The USA comes to a standstill. Supermarket shelves are empty as the highways are clogged. People start to panic and the guns come out The bitter enmity between far left and far right erupts into violence.

The wolves smell blood. North Korea tests a new ballistic missile. As it soars over Japan, something goes wrong and it drops on Yokohama. A Chinese warplane accidentally launches its missiles at a South Korean naval vessel. Putin orders an all-out assault on the Ukraine. A chemical weapon is released in Jerusalem.  Who does President Trump turn to?

https://www.facebook.com/dan.ferree/videos/854398026021863

Trump’s speech writer (himself).

Say anything; add he or she; make up some ficticious figure/number/percentage/claim; end sentence with “…in the history of our country” (with voice dropping down in tone).

Ramble on about unintelligibly for another half an hour.

Dance a little jig.

Pump fist.

That’s it.

A. So, let’s get this straight; you say that abortions should be banned completely; no abortions, whatever the reason for the pregnancy?

B. Yes, that’s right. I’m pro-life.

A. Ok, but if the woman is raped or worse, gang-raped?

B. She can give the baby up for adoption.

A. So nine months of discomfort, a possible extremely long and painful labor and then the psychological guilt of giving up a baby that she didn’t want. Also, nine months of psychological torture by being constantly reminded of the horrific and degrading act perpetrated on her.

B. God tests us in His own way.

A. And what if tests show abnormalities with the foetus; that the baby will be born blind, severely deformed and mentally retarded? Who would adopt such a baby; you?

B. Well, I have kids already

A. What if that raped mother already has kids? And she’s a single mom, working two jobs to make ends meet. No-one will adopt it; she can’t afford the specialist care it needs, Who pays; the state?

B. No…look, aborting a child is wrong. It’s murder. You’re killing the baby. How can you support that?

A. I don’t support it but I support the woman’s right to choose.

B. But that is supporting the death of a baby.

A. Define ‘death’.

B. ‘Death’? It’s when life ends.

A. You believe in the soul, don’t you?

B. Yes, of course. I’m a Christian.

A. Well, death is when the soul leaves the body…it gives up the ghost, as Shakespeare put it. It can be for any number of reasons or causes, but the result is the same; the soul leaves the body.

B. Agreed.

A. So life, or birth is when the soul enters the body, right?

B. Yes, ok.

A. And when exactly does the soul enter the body?

B. Errm, at…at conception.

A. Hmm, so when that little sperm has rumpy-pumpy with that little egg, that’s when the soul enters the body?

B. Well, I don’t know for sure.

A. That’s the point though; just when does the soul enter the body? If it does so at the time of birth, then an abortion is not killing the baby as there is no baby to kill, just an empty foetus.

B. Ah, but the foetus moves; it kicks.

A. True, but a plant reacts to external stimuli; does a plant have a soul?

B. I don’t…no…but what if it does enter at the time of conception? That means an abortion is killing that baby…or foetus.

A. Yes, that’s true but why would a soul choose to enter the body at the time of conception?

B. To experience what it’s like, I guess.

A. Being a baby must be pretty boring so being a foetus must be like watching endless re-runs of Mexican soap operas.

B. So when does the soul enter the body, cleverclogs?

A. I think that the soul chooses when, so it could be during the pregnancy or at the time of birth.

B.Ah, but if you don’t know for sure, then an abortion is wrong?

A. Look, when a foetus is aborted, then the physical body dies, ok? But what happens to the soul?

B. The soul lives on forever.

A. Define ‘forever’.

B. With no end.

A. Ah, now that’s where most people get it wrong; there’s no ‘rest of eternity’ because that’s only half the meaning. ‘Forever’ or ‘eternity’ means no end AND no beginning. It says in the Bible that life is eternal, so the soul always has lived and always will live. You can’t kill a soul. Therefore, if a foetus is aborted, why can’t the soul that was going to inhabit that body simply wait until another one becomes available?

B. Errrm…you are talking about reincarnation…

A. I’m talking about the eternity of the soul, which you agrees is indeed eternal, yes or no?

B. Yes.

A. So your version of events is that a soul always has existed, doing whatever it does on the Other Side and then ping! One day it pops into a body where it spends anything from a few minutes to a hundred-odd years – and even 10 billion years is a mere blip compared to eternity – then it pops out of that body and spends the forever doing what? Surely something as important as an everlasting soul must have a purpose; a reason for existing.

B. We will learn that purpose when we die.

A. If you believe in Heaven then you must believe in Hell, right?

B. Yes, and you’ll be going there if you don’t repent of your sins.

A. So, a soul that does not repent its sins before leaving the body is condemned to everlasting torment by an all.loving, forgiving and merciful God? Doesn’t seem very loving, forgiving and merciful.

B. God moves in mysterious ways.

A. You mean, like a mime artist or John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever? Aren’t you just saying that God does some pretty dumb and incomprehensible things?

B. Who are you to question His Works?

A. Supposedly He created me so why shouldn’t I question the works of my creator? Let’s get back to the point here; if a foetus is aborted, does the soul that inhabits it or was going to inhabit it not have another opportunity of life in a physical body?

B. (Sigh) I…I don’t know.

A. Then you are condeming abortions out of ignorance.

As the sun rose on the empty, barren strip of land that straddled Russian and Lithuanian-owned pieces of the Earth, so did the Third World War commence. Well, it didn’t start there and then, but the match was struck that lit the fuse that…

It wasn’t a Russian who drew his firearm first; that particular honour was held by one of Boris Johnson’s party. His name was Michael Princip; a remarkable coincidence, given that it was Gavrilo Princip who gunned down Archduke Ferdinand in Sarajevo in 1914 to set in motion all the treaties and pacts and silly, egostistical ambitions that ended up with millions of men and horses being slaughtered in thick mud, sand and on the waves.

Michael saw that his charge was gaining the upper hand against the Russian poligarch; in fact, Boris had his hands clenched tightly around Pudding’s throat. Tsar Vladimiriovich’s flailing arms were trying grapple his foe but his already crimson face was starting to turn mauve and purple. He didn’t have much oxygen left.

Michael saw this and knew that if Pudding died, World War 3 could well result. He took a rather strange but, to him, logical decision; he would shoot Boris Johnson. He would save the Russian president. He would prevent World War 3. It was a tough shot; Boris and Vlad were grapplingly entwined but he was a dead-eye dick, a true Annie Oakley of his day. He could wing Boris and save the world. He drew his pistol and took aim.

It all comes down to your kids. That’s where it ends; with your kids. Me? Who cares about me? An apocalyptic asteroid could strike the Earth tomorrow and so I’d die; so what? I could do with a good rest actually. But my kids? They must survive. They have to survive, no matter what. I know kids die. They die of leukemia, of abuse, in car accidents, at school gunned down by warped human beings. Why so young? Shouldn’t everyone get a decent innings on this Earth? Why do some get only a fleeting glimpse of life?

No, God does not move in mysterious ways and it is not simply “the Will of God” – that’s a cop-out? Simply a way of saying “Errr, yeah it’s really unfair and unjust and unexplainable, so God knows why.” This is where judeo-christian-islam leaves us floundering for answers and for things to make sense. But they don’t, so we reject these maxims and become nothing-but-darkness atheists or we adapt and distort the truth to suit our own egos.

People die because they programmed themselves to do so with their previous thoughts, words and deeds. Simple as that.

So, Alexander Sebrov saw Michael Princip draw his firearm and, being a reincarnation of Billy the Kid, he was pretty goddamed fast on the draw; the fastest this side of the Carpathians. He whipped out his Beretta and put two slugs into Michael’s head. There was an all-too-brief lull in the struggle, but when everyone saw Michael’s head pumping out blood, all hell broke loose. Boris’ anger gave him that last jolt of energy; enough to squeeze the life out of President Pudding. Bullets whizzed through the chilly air.

A duel of champions is meant to resolve the issue without thousands of soldiers dying for the vanity of a king or emperor. This duel, however, was soaked in irony.

Oh well, at least the Earth rid itself of the virus that afflicted it. The animal kingdom recovered as the destruction of their habitats ceased. The oceans stopped receiving their daily ration of plastic. The polar ice-caps stopped melting. The world got a bit cooler, put a comfy, old sweater on and opened a decent bottle of wine to celebrate…again.

Perhaps Michael Princip was really the hero that he wanted to be.

Vladimir Pudding was not one to shirk a fight. When he saw the bulky frame of the ex-Prime Minister of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland hurtling towards him, he let out a bellow, opened his arms into the grappling position and launched himself at his assailant. Seeing this, Boris employed his rugby-playing skills to feint to his right and then shimmied to his left, raising his right leg to trip the advancing Russian president, who went sprawling to the ground. Boris spun around like a 70s disco king and he fell upon the back of the Pudding, pinning him tightly.

Lapdog and Punt looked at each other, mouths agape and wondering what they should do; separate them? Join in? Fight each other? Lapdog’s jowly features, for Jeremy Punt, were like a red rag to a bull. He couldn’t help himself. He clenched his fist and swung it, rather girlishly, at the Russian Foreign Minister. Belying his outward appearance, Lapdog reacted pretty damned quickly and the blow glanced off his shoulder, with Punt’s fist carrying on into thin air, leaving him off balance and exposed. Lapdog seized the initiative and aimed a kick in Punt’s general direction, connecting with his thigh.

Meanwhile, Johnson had put Pudding into a headlock, with the Russian ex-KGB man struggling and wriggling like a struggly, wriggly thing. Boris had his arms round this opponent’s head rather than his neck, simply because there was no neck to lock onto. Pudding’s gargantuan head proved to be an advantage and Boris found it hard to get a good, firm hold on it.

While all this was happening, the bodyguards now looked at one another, wondering what the hell they should do; separate them? Join in? Fight each other? They had guns. This could get ugly. This could start a war.

Boris Johnson looked at his body, half-expecting to see blood oozing out of an orifice, but no…nothing.

Vladimir Pudding looked, too, at his body. Nothing.

What happened?

“I heard something,” said Jeremy Punt. “A metallic clang,”

Sergey Lapdog looked down at the ground between the duellists and announced: “I think I know what happened. The bullets hit each other – look, there are pieces of them.”

“Oh my great Aunt Bertie!” exclaimed Boris. “What are the chances?”

“The bullets hit each other?” Vlad groped for confirmation. “It’s a miracle! I truly am the Chosen One.”

“What?” countered Boris. “What are you drivelling about? I survived as well, you know. So, I’m also the Chosen One?”

“Oh, you’re nothing. You’re a has-been. An ex-PM.”

Boris’ cheeks reddened and his tousled hair stood on end, as if a bolt of electricity had coursed through his body.

“You obnoxious, fat-headed little runt,” and with that, Boris launched his chunky body at the Russian dictator.

Boris and Vladimir stood back-to-back with their pistols held at attention. The Russian president’s armpits were sweating, despite the parky air of daybreak. Now that it was go-time, he was truly regretting his nonchalant bravado. “I should have got a double to do this for me,” he thought. “Why have I only thought of that now?”

The soon-to-be ex-Prime Minister of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland had other thoughts on his mind as he ruffled his hair (it was far too neat) and puffed out his ruddy cheeks. He was nervous but exhilarated, the adrenaline coursing around his chunky body. He thought: “If I take this humungous-headed butcher out, I’ll be a bally hero. I’m going to make SO much money from the sale of my memoirs. The job offers will be flooding in as well; head of NATO or even the UN. Just keep calm and take steady aim.”

Lapdog and Punt cast nervous glances at one another. Sergey could see that his man was nearly pooping himself and was afraid that he was on the point of a humiliating back-down.

Punt was more worried about what would happen if his man won. Would the people clamour for the return of Boris? Would the Tory Party be riven by discord? Would HM the Queen intervene?

Vlad the Pants Pooper had an almost uncontrollable urge to get the hell outta there. He called out: “Come on, let’s get this done already!”

“I’m more than ready!” affirmed Boris

“Very well, gentleman,” intoned Lapdog. “I shall count to ten and with every number, you take a pace forward. On the count of ten, you will turn and fire your pistol.” He repeated it loudly in Russian, just in case his president’s expanding head had affected his hearing.

Jeremy Punt said: “Can I make the count? I’ve always wanted to do it.”

Lapdog rolled his eyes to the heavens and answered: “Really? Now you ask me?”

“Oh please,” pleaded Punt. “You can pronounce the loser dead or incapable of continuing.”

“For God’s sake!” bawled Vlad and Boris in unison.

“Okay, okay,” Lapdog capitulated.

Punt started the count: “One…” the combatants took a pace forward. “Two…three…four…five…six,” President Pudding stumbled a little and nearly dropped his pistol. “Seven…eight…nine…ten.”

Both men turned and pulled their triggers. The gunpowder in the pans was ignited, the explosive force impelled the round bullets down the barrels and out into the chill, morning air.

Sergey Lapdog looked at General Getyouroksov and enquired: “Did you, by any chance, arrange your duel with Jens Stoltenberg?”

“Whaddayanutz? Why would I do that? We’ll see what happens here first.”

The time had come; the duel was nigh. In the time-honoured tradition, it was dawn and only the duellists, their seconds and around 80 security personnel were present.

President Vladimir Pudding looked nervous. He was sweating profusely and was fidgeting like a schoolboy with a sugar and additives addiction. He addressed his team: “Anyone who records this on his cell phone will be sent straight to the Kherson front line with “I want to kill Ukrainian babies” tattooed on his forehead. Capiche?”

Boris ‘Jovial’ Johnson, on the other hand, was in fine fettle, chatting and joking with his team: “I’ll get the first round in after this is over.”

“It is only 7am, PM…”

“7am, pm? What are you blathering on about, Punt?”

“Never mind.” Punt wondered is all this was just bravado; would Boris match up?

“Ok Pudding, let’s see what you’re made of!” harangued Boris.

“Flour, eggs, milk and sugar,” murmured Lapdog, with a smirk on his lips.

“So, if this goes pear-shaped, who will take charge?” whispered Getyouroksov.

Lapdog answered: “I don’t think it’ll be me, if that’s what you’re asking. I have a plane waiting to fly me and my wife to New York.”

“Very wise,” agreed Getyouroksov. “Mine will head to Little Rock, Arkansas; I’ve got family there.”

Jeremy Punt called over to Lapdog.

“You’re up,” said Getyouroksov.

Lapdog and Punt met in no-mans-land and wished each other good day.

“Shall we proceed with the request for an apology?” asked Punt.

Lapdog looked puzzled. “Apologise for what, exactly?”

“For invading the sovereign nation of the Ukraine, of course,” declared Punt.

Lapdog smiled and shook his head: “Ah, I see. I don’t believe that President Pudding is sorry for anything he’s done in his life.”

Punt replied: “So, let’s get down to business, shall we?”

Boris and Vladimir were handed their flintlock pistols. Boris grabbed his enthusiastically and said: “Make sure you cock your pistol, Pudding.”

“No worries, mate. If you’re lucky enough to survive this, I’ll treat you to a few stubbies,” answered Pudding, in a strange mix of Russianised English and Kiwi twang.

“Strewth! The rumours are true. You were stationed in New Zealand during your James Bond days.”

“Let’s git this thing done and git outta this wop wop’s,”

With the niceties over, the two protagonists stood back to back, pistols held upright.