Reshuffle: A Vladimir Vladimirovich™ Trilogy (part 3)

This is the final installment in this trilogy of translations. The original Russian of this episode, dated February 16, is available here. Parts one and two of the trilogy appeared earlier in this space, and I'm going to do one final post linking to all three of them in a minute. Without further ado, here is part three, wherein Vladimir Vladimirovich™ begins to understand what he has wrought:

Once upon a time, Vladimir Vladimirovich™ Putin was sitting in his Kremlin office and watching a direct broadcast from the offices of the Russian Government Building on his presidential television.

One of the channels showed Prime Minister Mikhail Efimovich Fradkov. Mikhail Efimovich was sitting at his desk. In front of Mikhail Efimovich was a box of Kinder-Surprise chocolate eggs. Mikhail Efimovich took an egg from the box, removed the foil wrapper, broke the egg in two and took out the plastic container with a toy inside. Then Mikhail Efimovich ate the chocolate, opened the container, and, laughing merrily, put together the toy. Having assembled the toy, Mikhail Efimovich took another egg from the box.

Another channel was showing Finance Minister Aleksei Leonidovich Kudrin. Aleksei Leonidovich was sitting on the floor in the center of his office. Before Aleksei Leonidovich was was an open chest, filled to the brim with gold coins and precious stones. Aleksei Leonidovich was moving his outstretched hands slowly over the top of the chest and whispering something inaudibly.

A third channel was showing the Minister of Civil Defense Affairs, Emergency Situations, and Natural Disasters, Sergei Kuzhugetovich Shoigu. Sergei Kuzhugetovich, with the help of a large red fire extinguisher, was putting out a big fire he had set in the middle of his office.

Vladimir Vladimirovich™ clicked the remote, and the next channel appeared on the screen. In one of the offices, First Deputy Prime Minister Sergei Borisovich Ivanov and Acting President of the Chechen Republic Ramzan Akhmadovich Kadyrov were sitting at a table. On the table were a plate of blini; a perspiring decanter of vodka and a shot glass; a platinum saucer with black caviar; a large wooden board containing an underground-baked leg of mutton; a sheepskin container full of something or other; and a large curved horn with a silver rim.

Vladimir Vladimirovich™ turned up the volume.

"Well, bro," said Ramzan Akhmadovich, filling up the horn from the sheepskin and standing up from the table, "Here's to our new appointments!"

Sergei Borisovich poured himself a shot of vodka and also stood up from the table.

"We deserve it," said Sergei Borisovich, downing the shot quickly.

Ramzan Akhmadovich drank the contents of the horn to the last drop.

"But Muslims don't drink," said Sergei Borisovich, pointing at the horn.

"This is Chechen oil," said Ramzan Akhmadovich. "Pure as a teardrop. This is what gives Chechens the strength to resist. You want to try some?"

"Not really..." muttered Sergei Borisovich, taking a bite of blini with caviar. "I'm a traditionalist."

"You know," said Ramzan Akhmadovich, slicing off a large hunk of the mutton leg with his Chechen sword, "I've actually decided to change my name. From now on, I'm going to be known as Shamil."

Sergei Borisovich choked on his blini.

"Shamil?!" he exclaimed in horror. "Are you nuts? I knew I was right - we never should have made you president. There's gonna be another war."

"Silly man," answered Ramzan Akhmadovich, smiling condescendingly. "The name Shamil doesn't belong to that jackal Basaev. I'm going to change my name in honor of Imam Shamil, who was the first to make peace between the Chechens and Russia!"

"So you'll be Shamil the Second," answered Sergei Borisovich, pouring himself some more vodka.

"There can be only one Shamil'," said Ramzan Akhmadovich, filling the horn with oil from the sheepskin. "But he can live on in different people."

"I'll change my name, too, then," said Sergei Borisovich, and quickly took a drink.

"To Vladimir Vladimirovich™?" asked Ramzan Akhmadovich.

"What does Vladimir Vladimirovich™ have to do with anything?" Sergei Borisovich waved his hand dismissively. "To Peter."

Ramzan Akhmadovich choked.

"Peter?!" asked Ramzan Akhmadovich in surprise. "Why?!"
"First of all," answered Sergei Borisovich, "Peter was a great Russian tsar. And second, President Peter Ivanov sounds really nice."

"Peter the Fourth," said Ramzan Akhmadovich. "It doesn't bum you out to be fourth?"

"Ivan the Terrible [Grozny] was a Fourth," answered Sergei Borisovich, "which means I can be President Peter the Terrible [Grozny]. Eh?"

"Grozny," said Ramzan Akhmadovich sternly, "is a city in the Chechen Republic. Are you saying you're a Chechen?"

"And actually," continued Sergei Borisovich, as though not even hearing Ramzan Akhmadovich's words, "what do tsars have to do with anything? Tsars don't count. So I'll be the first. Peter the First. You like the sound of that?"

"I knew I was right," muttered Ramzan Akhmadovich, filling the horn from the sheepskin. "They shouldn't have made you First Deputy Prime Minister. Here we go again with the imperial ambitions..."

Sergei Borisovich silently poured himself a shot.

Vladimir Vladimirovich™ watched his presidential television with his eyes wide open.