Putin dies and goes to hell—but after ten years, is given a day off for good behaviour.
So he goes to Moscow, enters a bar, orders a drink, and asks the bartender:
“Is Crimea ours?”
“Yes, it is.”
“And the Donbas?”
“Also ours.”
“And Kyiv?”
“We got that too.”
Satisfied, Putin drinks, and asks:
“Thanks, how much do I owe you?”