Spy Eye

Dear Diary:

This has been my greatest day as a proud and strong Russian.

This Helsinki Summit was like taking borscht from a baby. I have even changed Trump’s code name from “Hairball” to “Omuf” for “our most useful fool.”

I have to say in all modesty that that press conference was an apex for me: to have the so-called “leader of the free world” kissing my Russian ass for all the world to see. 

But this pathetic performance by our dear Omuf didn’t just happen, dear diary. A useful fool is only as useful as you make him, and it was in the two-hour private talks that I prepped our most useful fool to apparently sell out his own intelligence services before a world audience.

As an old intelligence guy myself, I can appreciate the deep wound their own president delivered, but frankly it was beyond my wildest expectations.

I smirk as I write this, but I started the private talks by telling him I liked that stupid red tie he insists on wearing, the oldest salesman’s trick in the book. He then explained to me in all seriousness that red is a power color. I raised my eyebrows at how easily he can be suckered.

The meat of the meeting didn’t take all that long given the time for the interpreters and the most of an hour Omuf spent  rambling about his achievements and whatever else came into his muddled mind. The man is as totally self-centered as anyone I’ve ever dealt with. And that means he is what the Americans call “easy pickings” for an old hand like me.

He congratulated me at some length about our brilliant World Cup although he seemed centered on the fact that we had no soccer hooligans. I simply gave him my “spy eyes” and told him that it was not a consideration because they knew what awaited them.

I had to use those same spy eyes a few times when he complained about the problems his stance on Russia could potentially cause him politically. I simply said we had gotten him this far and would see him through and he sulked so much at that I made a not-so-veiled reference to a movie that he might enjoy. 

He blinked a few times when he saw what I was talking about and then asked me if I had given any more thought to his proposed Trump’s Great Tower in Moscow, which he wants to make the tallest in the world. I hadn’t but told him my architects were still reviewing the blueprints and drawings.

I thought it best to bring the talk around to financial obligations at one point as well, using the spy eyes, and he again blinked in understanding.

I actually congratulated him on the state of things in America and he took that as affirmation of his governance as a universal model. I meant, dear diary, to use the vernacular, that he has fucked up America worse in less than two years than all our years of ceaseless activity could only dream of achieving. All we had to do was turn him loose. He is an unwitting asset as well as a useful fool, and, overarching all, the president of the United States. 

That combination makes me, immodestly, the greatest spy master in history.

And, dear diary, Trump the greatest traitor in history.