Presidents Vladimir Putin and Donald Trump weren’t the only summit attendees who held a press conference in Alaska on Friday. A second, less-covered briefing offered a rare glimpse into the Russian leader’s personal life from a source deep within his inner circle: Putin’s personal “poop briefcase.”
First identified by Paris Match, the poop briefcase travels abroad with the Russian delegation to ensure that their leader’s feces do not fall into the wrong hands. Human waste carries genetic and lifestyle information that could reveal intimate details about Putin’s health. Out of an abundance of caution, the feces is collected, deposited in said briefcase, and returned to the motherland.
Given the personal nature of their mission, the poop briefcase has always been discreet… until now. Here is the transcript from that briefing.
Poop suitcase: Thank you for coming. I’d like to start with a short statement: I journeyed to the Alaskan summit with high hopes of engagement, but sadly returned home empty… much like President Trump.
Still, one must always plan for contingencies. A mechanical issue or weather front can delay a flight and require an overnight stay. A bad belly from some curdled sour cream can bubble up without warning. Fortunately, everything went smoothly. After nine hours, my boss was back on his plane with full amenities, so my services were not required.
And now, I will do something that my presidential counterparts refused to do: I will take your questions.
Press: Sir, without getting too graphic, can you explain how the process works?
Poop Briefcase: Sure. First off, if you’re picturing our glorious leader squatting over a briefcase then you’re looking at an AI-generated image. The reality is this is a team effort. When the president feels the urge, he signals an aide who sets up a collection container inside a local toilet seat. Kind of, like Cologuard. Once dropped, the solid waste is then sealed in the container and placed inside me.
Press: Isn’t it unusual for a head of state to cart around his waste?
Poop briefcase: Not at all! There’s even historical precedent. Louis XIV traipsed across Europe with a chest of drawers that hid his commode. I think it’s très civilisé.
Press: We heard that a planned luncheon in President Putin’s honor was cancelled. Could you comment on how that may have affected your situation?
Poop Briefcase: Eating is a known defecation reflex, so lunch could have been a trigger to poop, especially since the first course was green salad and the second course included steak with peppercorn sauce, which is a mixture of cream, beef broth, and cognac. Throw in a cup of coffee with the creme brûlée, and I probably would have seen some action.
Press: There are rumors that President Putin is battling various diseases and has possibly undergone treatment for cancer. Can you comment on that?
Poop briefcase: I’m a poop briefcase, not a doctor.
Press: Still, we all noticed that he was limping a bit on the stairs and his knees were buckling in a weird way. Some even speculated that he was wearing an exoskeleton.
Poop briefcase: An exoskeleton? Hahahaha. The things you journalists dream up. Next question.
Press: It seems like you’re trying to avoid answering questions about Putin’s health.
Poop briefcase: No. I’m trying to avoid getting “accidentally” thrown out of a window from the 30th floor.
Press: Okay, okay. Change of subject. How’d you get into this line of work?
Poop Briefcase: You’ll laugh when I tell you… Nepotism. My great-grandfather was a trunk for the tsar, and my grandmother was Raisa Gorbacheva’s handbag. Also, my uncle was an attaché to the foreign attaché, but he was strictly a papers guy.
Press: President Putin has invited President Trump to Moscow. Will the American bring his own poop briefcase on that trip?
Poop briefcase: (chuckles) No need. We have plenty of Mr. Trump’s DNA from a previous visit to Moscow… if you know what I mean. Yes?
Press: Until today, you’ve always been so discreet. Why are you speaking out now?
Poop briefcase: The truth is…I’m being replaced. I’m a bit scuffed up, and my handle has frayed thanks to sweaty-palmed bodyguards. Frankly, I don’t get why they wouldn’t just treat the leather and replace the handle. But that’s not how these oligarchs think. My boss would rather buy a new $6,000 Brunello Cucinelli briefcase just to show off.
Press: You sound a bit bitter, poop briefcase.
Poop briefcase: Not even a little. It has been my honor to keep the secrets of President Putin’s feces. May he reign forever and not succumb to colon cancer… oops!
