It is early evening as you return to your home. You are sure that all the lights were turned off when you left this morning, but you see the kitchen light is on. You unlock the front door, and can hear some kind of cookery noises from the stove area. Slowly you tiptoe to the warm light of your kitchen, look into the door and see ...
... Nikita Khrushchev in the middle of the room wearing an apron. He is in the process of making donuts. The table is filled with them. Nikita appears to be alive and well, looking much like he did in the early 1960s. Never mind that he is now well over 100 years old. Never mind that he supposedly died in 1971. Here he is, in your kitchen, wearing an apron, making donuts.
He greets you with great fondness, speaking in broken English. He asks if it is okay if he can hide out at your place "for a few days." Nikita promises that he is no threat to our national security. He cannot explain the how and why about his presence in your kitchen. And he can give nothing in return, except conversation and donuts. So can he stay with you for a bit, and would you promise not tell anyone, at least for awhile?
He offers you a donut. It is the best donut you have ever had in your life.
What would you do?