



Putin dies and goes to hell.
After a few years, he gets one day off for good behavior.
He decides to visit Moscow, walks into a bar, and orders a drink.
Curious, he asks the bartender:
“Is Crimea ours?”
“Yes, it is.”
“And Donbas?”
“Ours too.”
Putin leans in.
“What about Kyiv?”
“Yep. We got that too.”
Putin smiles, clearly pleased with what he’s hearing. He finishes his drink and asks:
“Excellent. How much do I owe you?”
The bartender replies:
“Five euros.”