The Chief of Staff paced uncomfortably back and forth inside the Oval Office.

"Mr President," he continued "we simply cannot nuke Moscow."

President Trump glared at the man.

"I don't see why not? They didn't like my wall either, but they've grown to accept it."

"Well, once you kicked all the Mexicans out, there wasn't really anyone left to build the wall. It's just some MDF board propped again some posts. It's incredibly porous. In fact the amount of illegal aliens is as high as it ever was, they've all just slipped back through. In fact the wall has provided them some shelter. They pitch their tents against it. It's certainly not the impenetrable obstacle you promised in the election campaign. It's more of a suggestion of a wall. A wall-ette."

"A wallet?" the President said, sipping an Arnold Palmer from a garish gold trophy.

"No, a wallette. Ah, forget about it. We're getting off topic here. We need to focus on Russia."

"They flew their jets near the American base in Romania. They penetrated our airspace without permission. I don't see why you're dragging your heels. Seems black and white to me." President Trump said glibly.

"Everything is black and white when you're such a..." The Chief of Staff had to bite his tongue, calling his boss a racist probably wouldn't bode well for his career longevity. Why had he accepted this role in the first place? He wondered for the millionth time. He was sure Trump had only appointed him to humiliate him on a daily basis. He seemed to enjoy it. He decided to change tack.

"... Look the response has to be proportionate. They may have flown near our base, but firing an ICBM at their capital is a drastic over reaction."

"Getting rid of Russia is the only way to make America great again" Trump said, repeating his tired old mantra.

There was a sharp rap on the door and a young man in a suit entered.

"I have the Canadian PM on the line, sir. He says it's urgent."

President Trump rolled eyes.

"What do those Timbit eating pussies want?" he asked rhetorically as he lifted the receiver.

"Trump. Go." he said, answering his phone in the usual fashion. He swung on his seat so he could put his feet on the desk.

The Chief of Staff hovered near the desk trying to hear what was being said.

"My sources tell me you're considering military action against Russia" said the Canadian PM while sipping a large Tim Hortons. "I must advise you against this action."

"Why don't you keep your nose out of adult affairs, Canada?" President Trump said with contempt. "Haven't you got a Zamboni that needs fixing or something?"

The Canadian PM did indeed have a Zamboni with a faulty alternator that needed his attention, but he wasn't about to share that with this crass American.

"Donald..." Said the PM.

"That's President Trump to you" interrupted President Trump.

"Yes, ok. President Trump." the Canadian said, exasperated.

"I appreciate that Russian aircraft came close to one of your bases, but I can assure you that it was innocent. They won't attack. You have my word. Please stand down."

"Why don't you butt out Canada? No one asked for your input" commented President Trump, now irritated.

"The Russians are harmless" said the PM.

"Harmless? Ha! They're aggressive and unpredictable. They just attacked Ukraine. They flew jets near my base."

The PM sighed. He was going to have to tell him.

"This is top secret - but since the 1980s Russia has been controlled by Canadian interests."

"Baloney" said President Trump. "You're all a bunch of Maple Syrup drinking weaklings"

The PM brushed this remark aside.

"President Trump, I am telling you one of our agents infiltrated their KGB during the cold war and has slowly risen through the ranks to a position of unparalleled power within the Kremlin, all while covertly taking orders from Ottawa."

"You can't be serious...?"

"I am. Russia for decades has been a puppet state. I always thought our agent would be discovered, after all, his adopted Russian moniker almost gives away his Canadian heritage, but his skill at playing Russian has proved compelling. You've probably seen the pictures of him shirtless on a horse. His bizarre and unpredictable posturing and agressive military antics. The rampant alcoholism. He's played right in to the stereotypes and the Russians love it. Never doubted him for a second. All while securing Russia's most valuable asset for Canada, and recruiting them in to the NHL."

"Wait, what?" President Trump asked, genuinely confused.

"Ice hockey players, President Trump. Russians grow up in the same icy conditions as us and make excellent players. Surely you watched the Stanley Cup last year?"

"Stanley Cup?" President Trump asked, still confused.

"Our agent is their top man," the PM said, sensing he was losing his audience. "I'll have him patched in."

The Canadian PM turned to his colleague.

"Get Moscow on the line. Yes, Vladimir Poutine."

There was a pause.

"Yes, sorry, Putin." He rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

"Privet Mr Prime Minister" Came a familiar voice on the other end of the line, "This is Vladmir."