ON HIS TIME IN
OFFICE
By Juptor
Numtwats
AP—KIEV
KEY:
Volodymyr
Zelensky: VZ
Jeptor Numtwatts:
JT
VZ: “I dunno
watz happens now. Why Americans no gives me moneyz and weapon? Why diss?
Fugging Trump! He make me so madz! Old man. He smell bad, like Opa. How he say
dezz tinks? That I no respectfuls. Why? I kiss hiz azz like rest. Why pick on
Volo? [Begins singing Twister Sister tune] We nots gonna takes it! We nots
gonna takes it! We nots gonna take its any more...."
JN: [Clears
throat] “Mister President. [Louder] Mister President! Perhaps we should begin, now…”
VZ: “Huh? Who
ezz diss? Wheres you come from? Speak upz! I call body-guard, chop-chop. He chop
you up in blender. Ha-ha!”
JN: “I’m Jeptor
Numtwatts, sir. I’m here from AP to interview you. You were listening on your
headphones and your handler..er..secretary said never to interrupt when you had
them on. I’m sorry but I have a deadline…”
VZ: “Dead
lines? Who dies? Hay! I likes line or two, Jeppy, if knows what I means by diss.
Ha-ha! Are we livez? Is diss records thingy on? Say, what diss “ayy peeze”, anyway? What you mean by diss?”
JN: “Associated
Press, Mister President. We scheduled an interview to discuss the latest
peace proposal that Presidents Putin and Trump have ironed out. Do you think…”
VZ: “I no think,
Jeppy. I knows. I knows damn wells who butters my bacons. Go on. We must tell
your viewers…”
JN: “This is a
print interview, Mr. President. No cameras.”
VZ: “Too badz.
I get haircut, fresh clothes. You see, eh? I look good, Jeppy. Tho, you know, I hate fukan green! I never did like dis colours.”
JN: “You look...masterful, Mister President. But what do you think of the thirty-day ceasefire
proposal ironed out in Riyadh by President Trump’s envoy, Steve Witkoff with the
Russians? Will it work? Will you accept it?”
VZ: “Jeppy. May I calls you Jepps? Jeppy? No
matter, I call Jeppy. Jeppy, I say peaze treaties up your azz! We win fight! I tell truth
to you and your Ayy Peeze! We beat invaders who eat Ukrainee childs and
drink their bloods. Curse them to tenz generations! Scum!” [He spits]
JN: “Wouldn’t
any break in the fighting be welcomed by Ukrainian troops who are exhausted and
demoralized by all accounts?”
VZ: “Hah! You
knows nothing of Ukrainee, Jeppy. Hay! Where you froms, Ayy Peeze?
Who are your peoples?”
JN: “I was born
in Canada, but I’ve lived all my li….”
VZ: “Ha! Why
you no say so before. You are Canadee! A Canuks! Maples syrup! Mounties! Niagaras Fall! Ah! my favorite country after Ukraine is Canadaz. What your team, Canahends or Leaves?”
JN: “You mean
what’s my favourite hockey team, Mister President? Uh. Well, as a boy I was always
partial to the Detroit Redwings because I grew up near…”
VZ: “Hoah, boy!
Shame-shames. Da Canahends, dey de bess teamz in whole world! Only Ukrainee Übermensch betters. Canahends is team worl class. Like Ubers. Yes, sir! Hay,
Canuks, listen diss: I visit your country two, maybe three year ago. I go
to Ottawaz, to Parliaments. Everybody cheer, claps hand. You saw. But, while I am there I see my friend
Yaro Hunker in vis’tor galleryz. They all claps for me and for Yaro. I sit with
weepy Justin. That boy cry too much. Sissy pants. Nice hairz, tho.”
JN: “You were
friends with Yaroslav Hunker, Mister President? When did you meet him. You do
know he was a member of the Nazi SS during World War Two, don’t you.”
VZ: “Yah-yah. I
knows, Jeppy. My lipz seal. State secret, you knows. Maybe I talks too much now.
Ha! Maybe I have you kilt, Jeppy." [Pause in recording] "Ha-ha! Look at face in mirror. White as sheet. I joke. Cummon. But, hay, you look like good guy. Lis’en me, I tell you sometinks. Me and Yaro were in same outfit during war. Yah-yah. Is true! We fights Russians. Give 'em
bloody noses.”
JN: “But,
Mister President, Hunker was is his nineties when he came to Ottawa. You’re much
younger, surely, no more than in your mid-forties? How could you have fought together in
World War Two? You weren’t even born yet! Am I wrong?"
VZ: "Yah. Very
wrongz, Ayy Pease."
JN: "Um. Should we
continue, Mister President. What are your thoughts around the peace proposal?"
VZ: "Jeppy, May
I call you Jeppy? Jeppy, you be my guest in Presidential Palace. This [He
gestures] is House of Ukrainee. Holy place. I have duty to defendz. I also treat
guests with great respect. I make law 'bout dat. you seem like good guy, Jeppy. Your Ayy Pease is good guy, too. They give me good news cover. Say
nice thing ‘bout me. So, I let you in on state secretz. Turn off record machine
and we go for walk, eh?"
JN: [Turns switch
on recorder] "It’s off now, Mister President."
VZ: "Why light
still green on records thingy, Jeppy?"
JN: "Um. It
always does that. I turned it off. What did you want to show me, Mister
President?"
VZ: "Let’s go to
private part of palace. Quiet there. Hay! You tall one. You
know that, Jeppy? How you get so big?"
JN:" Umm? I jog
every day?"
VZ: "You jogz before
come here? Hay! You must be tires. Let goes sit down more comfer-tables place. Follow
me, Jeppys. That’s it...you follow. Good. Not far. I show you some think. It will knock your hatz off!" [They walk along
several hallways and flights of stairs and eventually descend a stair into the lower
basement of the palace.]
JN: "Mister
President! Where are we going?"
VZ: "We here,
Jeppy. See? Come inside. We have drinks. Maybe some coke, eh? Kick backs. Listen tunes. You
look so tense, Jeppy. Need relax. Sit in chair. I mix drink. We talk, eh. You
like talk, don’t you, Jeppy?" [The President moves to well-stocked bar.]
JN: "Mister
President, I don’t kno…"
VZ: "You no
sizzy pants like Justin Truesdou are you, Jeppy? [He mixes drinks at a well-stocked
bar. “Drinx, Jeppy. Drinx up, my friend.” [The President puts on a mix of
Ukrainian folk tunes and the two drink and listen to the soothing melodies.] “Thas’
better, no Jeppy? How you like Ukrainee whiskey? It good stuff, eh? Smooth like baby
behind.”
JN: "Mister
President, I can hardly feel my lips! They’re numb! My legs, too! They won’t
move. Call a doctor Please! Something’s very wrong!”
VZ: "Good-good,
Jeppy. You sit there. I talk. Jeppy, what you think when I say I's am one-hundredt-and-fiftys-five-year-old! You believe me, doan you? Just nod if you understands.
Or blink eye if nodding too hard. This drink powerful stuff, no? Well, be that as may. Jeppy, I
tell you earlier Yaro and me were in same outfit. We dit stuff backs then tha' would blow
your mindz! Man, those were days. Hah! Relax Jeppy, you give yourself stroke or
somethin’. [Zelensky adjust straps on the hands and legs of the paralyzed AP reporter] Wha' wrong, Jeppy? Cat got your tongues? Ha-ha! So, you ask how can I be so old and look fresh like rosebud? Das long
story and you no have much time left. No-no. No tears. Why cry? Anyway, I have
tells you quick because the Lord is come soon. Who dat, you ask. If you could ask!
Ha-ha! He is my boss and Yaro boss, too. In history, folk call him by many names. He is old-old. He
go waaay back, Jeppy. Some say to cavemens time. Old as sin, they say. Man! Dis booze is sure good! Anyways, Jeppy, my Lord and many
who follow him and works for him in world, they are like a big truck tha' need fuels to
run. And to keep our skin soft and bowels clear. And to live long-long time. What fuel, you ask, if you could ask.
Why it's you, Jeppy. Our fuel is you. Be happy. It over quick and then you rest. No more worry. Like go on holidayz. I see
lines on your forehead, Jeppy. You scared. Don’t be. You just go sleep. Bye-bye. You
know, Jeppy, all dis talk of foods make me hungry. Maybe I get
Justin to come visit. He has time to spares now. I drain him good this time. I suck his spine and blood till he dry as bone! Ha-ha! Yah sur! His blood is boring, I knowz, but he has nice hair. Very sexy, doan you think? Yeah. I say: 'Why
I no have hair like dat?' Jeppyz, I hope your bloods not too dull
for our Lord. He cranky when no eat for few months. You want somethink else to drinks? No ruffies this time! I promise. Crosses my heart. No? No matter. We wait. Soon he come.”
JN: "Uh! uh-uh!" [End of tape.]*
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