In Soviet Union, official policy is we do not believe in the God and the Satan. And yes, is still Soviet Union. But I ask because I believe advice is good. Maybe I consider invading Ukraine and dog’s bark sounds like “Ukraine!”, so I attack. If advice good, is good, whether come from mouth of dog or chicken.
My great joy in Soviet Union is breaking horse. The moment when horse finally breaks, it gives me, how you say? Multiple orgasm.
Is like woman, yes? No means yes.
I look forward to breaking Trump, I savor the anticipation of his limp body when he finally submits.
But he cheats me. He breaks too easy.
Now I need new horse to conquer. Perhaps Eastern Europe? Was next on list after Trump, but I did not expect to be horny again so soon.
I Must Break You,
President of the United States of America
Dear Vladimir Putin,
FBI agent Robert Hanssen, played by Chris Cooper in the movie Breach, insisted it was atheism that caused you Ruskies to lose The Cold War. But now it’s looking more like you actually won the cold war, so I’m starting to have an existential crisis—do I actually exist? I have to admit, a lot of the Bible seems a little fishy. I mean that whole Holy Trinity business makes no sense at all. But then again, I wasn’t the one who wrote it. I gave those early Christians a rough outline and, well, I guess they did their best. With all those people believing in me, how can I not exist? I wish there was some way to know for sure either way. For the purpose of answering your question, let’s just go with the assumption that I do.
The thing is, your English is so shitty that I can’t even tell if you actually did ask a question. Next time write in Russian. I can speak all languages, but when you butcher one of them like that, I’m totally lost. My best guess is you’re asking me if I think you should invade the Ukraine again. What, you think I might say “yes?” Just stay the fuck out of the Ukraine. And stop fucking with American elections.
Dear Vladimir Putin,
Don’t get me wrong—I love my job. Really. But I am not super excited about you coming down here. I already have my hands full with Hitler, Stalin, and all the Popes, and now I’m supposed to take on another supervillain? I’ve really got my work cut out for me, which is why I’ve already started brainstorming. For instance, I know you’ll be at the front of the Trump Administration human centipede every Tuesday. Still, that leaves me 6 more days to fill. With someone as dastardly as you are, I can’t just settle for standard tortures such as putting cobras in your rectum or making you fuck an alligator while wearing a jellyfish on your dick as a condom. Those are good enough for a John Schnatter or a Stephen Baldwin, or maybe even an Ajit Pai. But someone of your caliber needs something original. Something epic. To be honest, I’m totally stumped at the moment. Luckily, I have some time. Thanks to our deal, I won’t be seeing you for another 300 years.
—Satan The Workaholic
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