Sacred Haven of Debauchery

One night, Dmitry Anatolyevich Medvedev got out of his presidential bed and carefully, so as not to wake his wife, sneaked into his presidential office. There, he turned on his presidential MacBook, set up the webcam. And, clearing his throat, with a determined expression on his face, he began to speak: - Dear Russians. I am addressing you not just as an ordinary citizen, but as the President of Russia, the highest link in the chain of power. I have often had to read opinions in blogs – they say that Medvedev is weak, he follows Putin, he does not really fight corruption, he just talks a lot and rambles about some funny modernizations. And I will not justify myself. Yes, dear Russians – I talk a lot and do little. In almost two years of my presidency, I have not been able to change the catastrophic situation in the country. Corruption still flourishes, bribes are taken, budgets are embezzled, unfair elections are held, laws are violated, those who are disliked are imprisoned and killed. Friends, I don't want to justify myself. But I want to remind you that we, presidents, have a terribly irregular working day. Without vacations, without weekends and holidays. I work like a galley slave – seven days a week, sixteen hours a day. My wife lives without her husband, my son grows up without a father. My little son, my darling, grows up alone… At this point, Dmitry Anatolyevich stumbled and sobbed, feeling how sobs choked him. Having pulled himself together, he continued: - It's hard to believe, but they don't even let me get sick. The other day, my fingers cramped from frequent typing on the keyboard – I couldn't even hold a pen to sign decrees. I went to my doctor, said that I could not fully fulfill my duties, and I needed a sick leave. And the doctor said that from this week I cannot take a sick leave – a direct order from Putin. This is how, rudely – to me, the president, can you imagine? And the worst thing is – there is no one to complain to. An ordinary citizen can go to court, can write a complaint to me. And who should I complain to? Putin? I have been to him many times, tried to talk to him like men. And he just laughs. He says, "You called yourself a suppository – you know where to climb." If you don't like it – write a resignation letter. The rudeness is simply beyond measure. I am, of course, the president – but I am not made of iron. And I did not sign up to work like a slave for two hundred thousand rubles a month. Miller gets more than that… Here, Dmitry Anatolyevich took a breath and frowned menacingly: - Thanks to Putin, today there is patronage and blatant theft in government bodies, when oligarchs receive billions from the budget, and small businesses are stifled by levies and loans at exorbitant interest rates. Thanks to Putin, today there is lawlessness in the country, when corrupt officials cover each other up from criminal prosecution. Thanks to Putin, today the opposition is not allowed on television, the press is afraid to criticize the authorities, and when the words "free democratic elections" are mentioned, Russians feel nauseous. Dmitry Anatolyevich paused for a moment, looking intently into the camera. - Now I will make a shocking confession – I received my position in exchange for complete submission to Putin and a promise not to release one innocent oligarch from prison. I understand that for these words I will be fired, I will be sent to Krasnokamensk, or maybe even killed, he said tragically. - But I don't care anymore. I'm tired of being silent, tired of enduring. From this moment on, I declare war on all corrupt officials, starting with Putin. Over the years, I have accumulated a lot of compromising material on Putin and other high-ranking officials. Friends, let's fight corruption together. Let's stand up against it as a united civil front. Let's all go out into the streets and make corruption the second Stalingrad, like our grandfathers did. Write your suggestions to my email. Comment on my posts. Get my video to the top of Yandex, and do it quickly – because it will soon be blocked. And remember – YouTube administrators are slowing down the view counter at the request of the presidential administration. Dmitry Anatolyevich turned off the webcam, sat in thought for a moment. The disheveled head of the presidential wife appeared in the doorway. - Why aren't you sleeping? – she asked, yawning. - I'm preparing to send a message to the Federal Assembly. I'm rehearsing the speech, - the president stammered, trying not to meet her eyes. - Go to sleep, or you'll have red eyes again tomorrow, - his wife sighed. – The bloggers will make fun of you again. - Just a minute, - Dmitry Anatolyevich said pleadingly. Waiting for the door to close, he reviewed the video recording and uploaded it to his presidential blog, setting the access level to "private, only for me." "Someday I will unlock it. And they will all dance to my tune," the president thought, turning off his MacBook. With this reassuring thought, he went to bed to regain his strength for the rest of the night before tomorrow's message to the Federal Assembly.