as he stumbled through an explanation of how Prigozhin's plane was brought down by a grenade exploding on board. Yeah, pull someone else's leg, my bones are too brittle these days.

His physical posture was different, also. Instead of the overly confident dictator who could strike fear into all present by shifting his gaze or moving a single finger, I saw him slouch and squirm.

His days are numbered. As soon as they can find somebody else to stick with the job, he'll have a fortuitous heart attack.