To: President Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin (Владимир Путин):
From: Michael “Moorovich” Moore, Interim Negotiator for Ukraine (Іди на хуй сам)
Subject: Your Surrender
Now that your attempt to seize the nation of Ukraine is beginning to unravel — with your richest oligarchs, Oleg and Mikhail, demanding an “end to bloodshed” and “peace now”; the always neutral Switzerland now freezing your money, something that they wouldn’t even do to Hitler; tens of thousands of young Russians demonstrating against your war all across Russia; and the Russian army now finding itself lost and broken-down on the road to Kyiv (and discovering why the Ukrainian Army is the second largest in Europe) — you must see the writing on the wall. The entire world has abandoned you, they won’t let Aeroflot fly over their countries, they’ve cut you off financially and now you’ve just been booted out of this year’s World Cup.
And the Associated Press has shown these photos to the world of the damage your missiles did on Sunday when fired into a Ukrainian market: You killed this little 6-year old girl:
As your descent into Hell seems to be happening quicker than anyone imagined, and because Ukrainian President Zelensky is very busy right now trying to kill as many Russians as possible, I have made an offer to him, as a fellow satirist and occasional TV star, to step in and negotiate your surrender. This won’t take long. We don’t even need to sit at one of your 155-foot long conference tables, you paranoid fuck. (Oh - sorry. I take that back. I forgot you still have nukes pointed at us! My bad! You are a strong man, with a strong chest!)
You may not remember me. We’ve met twice — once in Dresden in 1989 when you were stationed there, and again in 1993 when I hopped on the stage in Moscow while Yeltsin was giving one of his drunken speeches and you were in charge of “security.” I simply interrupted him, took the mic, and started making my own speech — and you, Mr. Security, did nothing! I knew you were a loser then, and I know it today. (Oops. I did it again! Sorry! Nice chest!)
Back to the terms of your surrender. I’ll make it simple. Have your army return to Russia. End all threats and aggression to Ukraine. Then step down. And leave the country. We have found only one country who will let you live there in exile: Belarus! The only other European country that’s a dictatorship. You’ll feel right at home. I’ve found a lovely place for you to live there. It looks like a wee Kremlin — so you’ll feel even more at home.
Unfortunately, the billions you stole from the Russian people will have to stay in Russia.
Now, in the coming days, your army will indeed have some dramatic successes with whatever rocket launchers that still work. It will seem like you are going to win. You won’t. There is so much stink around what you’ve done, how would you ever even define a “victory?” That you now get to “own” a country that’s larger in landmass than Germany and Great Britain combined — when you can’t even run your own? It’s lose-lose, Mr. President.
That’s why you must sign these terms of surrender. You have no choice. Don't worry — the worst that will happen to you is that you will be paraded through the streets of Kyiv on a leash by that nun from Game of Thrones, ringing her large handbell behind your shriveled naked body, and shouting so all can hear:
Enjoy your life in Belarus!
— Michael Moore
STATEMENT of SURRENDER
I, Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin, do hereby resign as President of Russia and all of its 1,100 I-Hop franchises.
(In the meantime, here’s how your soldiers are doing):