Did Russian Comics Write the Dossier(s)?

Not since the days of Belushi and Aykroyd has there been a Saturday Night Live sketch as funny as the one performed by Russian comics Vladimir "Vovan" Kuznetsov, 30, and Alexei "Lexus" Stolyarov, 28.

Okay, it wasn't on SNL and it took place on a phone call with Adam Schiff, ranking member of the House Intelligence Committee (hold that thought), but it provided some of the best deadpan comedy in years.  Some might call it a prank, but I submit it is more than that, a revelation of sorts, demonstrating a true attempt at Russian, or was it Ukrainian, collusion by Schiff. (The comics were posing as Ukrainian officials.)

And who knew the ranking member could be the best straight man since Margaret Dumont? If you haven't heard it yet, don't wait:

But for those in a hurry, the Daily Mail has the gist of this call that took place a year ago -- about the time Christopher Steele, with the help, as we now have learned, of the ever popular Sidney Blumenthal and the lesser-known (for now) Cody Shearer were concocting not one but two dossiers. From the DM:

Schiff began the call by thanking the "chairman" Andriy Parubiy for his time and warning him that Russian spies were likely listening in.

"I would caution that our Russian friends may be listening to the conversation so I wouldn't share anything over the phone that you wouldn't want them to hear," said Schiff.

Vovan, who was posing as Parubiy, reassured Schiff: "I don't think that will impact on our investigation."

The fake Parubiy claimed the Ukrainian government had obtained recordings and documents that proved Vladimir Putin was blackmailing Trump with naked photos taken during an affair between the president and a Russian glamour model.

Vovan also claimed the Ukrainians recorded secret meetings between a Trump campaign aide and a famous Russian singer-turned-spy that took place at a non-existent mafia hangout in the Brooklyn neighborhood of Brighton Beach.

Schiff appeared to be taking notes on the conversation and repeatedly asked for spellings of names and documentation he could send to the FBI.

Ah, poor Schifty. He didn't pay enough attention to the old saw that nothing is ever as good as it seems or as bad as it seems. After this conversation was first referred to in The Atlantic, he put out that he was suspicious the whole time. Communications from his office indicate the reverse. If anyone was attempting colllusion, he was.

But never mind. Beside the obvious, that this conversation is so funny because it proves once again how dumb you can get when you think you're about to strike gold, something considerably more troubling is unmasked.