As the dusk settled on the misty swamp, there was a hint of tension that hung in the air. On the surface, it was hardly a paradisal scene. The stench was the most prominent feature of this grimy marsh: an unbearable blend of ogre waste and rotting carcasses. No animal ever came to this particular area of the swamp: all life had been eradicated by the tyrant ogrelord who threatened all who came close. On this particular evening, the silence was strange, uneasy. Even the flies, fleas and vermin which usually feasted upon the abandoned carcasses of great ogre feasts were silent. It was quiet. Too quiet.
BANG. The silence was suddenly broken by a bang on the door. BANG BANG. Two more knocks. His Almighty Shrekness impulsively grabbed his Warhammer, raised it high and charged towards the door. He charged through with a war cry screaming "WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY SWAMP". His visitor trembled in fear of the raging ogre. He was a pale, slightly balding man dressed in a navy suit and tie. What little hair remained was the colour of soft hay and the first thing Shrek noticed was his piercing blue eyes. The man, composing himself addressed the Ogrelord in a strange, foreign dialect: "Your Highness, Your Eminence, His Royal Highness the Almighty King-Ogrelord, Shrek of the Swamp, I have come from afar to praise your might."
"Oh ayy?"
The man continued. "I have come to serve you, my lord and saviour. I have left behind so much in order to attend to your every need. Let me serve you, your wonderous Shrekness. Let me fulfil your every wish. For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, forever and ever. Amen."
Shrek looked at him, carefully analysing this weak old man. He would have dismissed him on the spot, however something about the man intrigued him. "Who are ye" he asked.
His visitor straightened himself up and puffed out his chest. His sparkling blue eyes gleamed with pride as he looked Shrek in the eye. "I, Orgelord, am Vladamir Putin. I have spent my life building a strong, nationalist nation with a hatred for all minorities, yet here I am. I stand before you a changed man. It has been years since my days ruling Soviet Russia. Years ago, I would have condemned you to death due to colour of your layers, yet now, all I seek is some kinky butt sex with you." Shrek's eyes widened in alarm, but then he broke into a smile. "Ah've heard of yeh, Putin. Ma father told me stories of yer immortal deeds, how yeh outlawed memes in order t'preserve yer self-dignity. And now here yeh are, standing before meh, begging for some sensual pleasure with the ogrelord. It's almost as if it were a scene in a badly written smutty fanfiction. Well, by all means, come in Mr Putin".
"Really?" Putin gasped.
"Really really". Shrek gestured towards the living room, where a warm fire crackled and spat embers onto the floor, layered thick with grime. Vladimir gingerly hopped over the threshold and scurried into the living room. Shrek barred the door behind him. It was rare to receive visitors in the swamp, yet he didn't want to take any chances. Tonight would be a night where a disturbance would be a great inconvenience. There was to be no interruption.