From before - Lavrov’s in the Kremlin garden explaining to Putin that the spare set of nuclear console keys are in his other trouser pocket. Not only that, but in the pair he left back at the flat in London.
Putin: “But you have no London flat no more. Do you not read the flipping news?”
Lavrov: “What news? We’re not allowed any. Anyway it's 'no flat anymore', if you say no flat no more, it means you have one.”
Putin: “Never mind. Look, get on a plane to China. They sold us the keys so get them to cut a spare. No cheap tin mind. It needs to be steel tell them. 100% steel, no cheap alloy.”
An hour later Lavrov’s on a plane to China. The steward asks him if he would like coffee. Suddenly distracted, Lavrov’s face drops. “Oh fuck, oh fuckitty-fuck” he whispers to himself. “I think I left the iron on in the apartment. And, did I close the bathroom window?”
In mid-flight, Lavrov's plane does a sharp u-turn so Lavrov can go home, check the gas hasn’t been left on, that his goldfish has been fed and the tap in the bathroom sink is not overflowing.
Meanwhile Putin has scheduled a video conference with the Kremlin.
Putin: “Good afternoon. I have called you all here today to inform you of our next strategic move in the Balkans.”
Gerasimov: “Do you mean Donbass?”
Putin: “Yes, we can include the Donbass too. Why not.”
Peskov: “Is Shoigy joining us?”
Putin: “He sends his apologies. Unfortunately he died.”
Zakharova: “Oh no…. When?”
Putin: “Tomorrow.”
Gerasimov: “Dmitry (Peskov), perhaps you could provide an update on how our latest actions have been perceived in the West.”
Peskov’s moustached lips start to move, but nobody hears a thing. Just silence.
Zakharova: “Oh look…he hasn’t got his sound on. He’s gone onto mute.”
Putin waves to Peskov, sticks his fingers in his ears mouthing “You. Are. On. Mute.”
Peskov fiddles with his device. Sound is restored and he starts talking. As he does so a stripey cat’s head suddenly appears in front of the screen, then its body and finally its tail as it walks across his desk. “Rocco, put your tail down” says Peskov.
Putin: “Oh FFS, what now! The might, power and future of the Motherland is held to ransom by Dmitry’s fucking cat.”
Just at that point, Putin’s office door bursts open. His latest toddler daughter saunters in, lightly striding up to the desk, swinging her elbows out, hair in pig tails, wearing a bright blue and yellow jumper….followed by her baby brother crashing through the door in his stroller coming to join the party…as Vlads latest wife skids in through behind desperately trying to drag the kids back out again….