And then I boiled it, peeled it, cut it into chunks, and made him eat it.

It'd be even sweeter if Ilya weren't so terrifying-looking, wouldn't it be? The man needs a shave and a haircut, pronto. Luckily he's in Slovenia now, which I imagine is something like Siberia, which I imagine as being full of big, bearded lumberjacks. So Ilya should fit right in. If they let him check that chainsaw, that is.