It’s just past midnight in a spacious tent in a small village just north of New York City. Three men, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, Moammar Qaddafi, and Hugo Chavez sit around a small fire. Hereinafter, they are referenced as A, Q, and C, respectively, but not respectfully.
*A: I thought that after the PanAm thing...Allah be praised, Momie...you don’t mind being called that, do you? Moammar is so...well... Sunni-sounding...that you would not be welcome...
*Q: Sunni-sounding, you north-end of a southbound camel, Mahmoud...Allah curse this fool before I give him the PanAm treatment...what do you mean...welcome...in this hole where there is not sand or even dates...and you say “Momie” one more time and the Libyan scimitar will...
*C (laughing): So, Moammar, you are not welcome. I saw the signs and...by the way, sneaking in here in the trunk of a cab driven by a kook from Pakistan was just a bit...
*A: The Pakistanis are all kooks...Sunni-kooks, that is. The Shiites will a-a-r-r-g-g-h-h-A-A-R-R-G-G-H-H-a-a-r-r-g-g-h-h-A-A-R-R-G-G-H-H...A-A-R-R-G-G-H-H On to Wisconsin...
*C (diving under a rug): Moammar, what’s with Mahmoud and this awful scream, worse that a muezzin with a herniated larynx at the evening prayer in your country?
*Q: Bah...Mahmoud has spent too much time in this miserable New York. He learned that scream from Osama’s lackey...that miserable al-Zawahiri, who learned it from watching the Howard Dean on American TV and uses it when he’s frustrated with his four or so wives...who’s counting anyway? Mahmoud uses it when the students burn cars in Tehran or when he thinks of Sunnis, whichever comes first. Anyway, the only thing Sunnis and Shiites love more than killing Americans is...oh, ha, ha...killing each other...Allah be praised for Shiite blood in the streets!
*C: These are strange customs, Moammar. In Venezuela, the Catholics and Protestants don’t kill each other...they’re too busy starving and working in the oil-fields the stupid Americans have drilled. And now I have my very own lackey in the U.S....Osama Obama, I call him...a very nice ring to that. He apologized in my very own kingd...make that my own country for the very existence of the United States. To show my appreciation, I did not call him Satan in my speech at the UN, as I did the cowboy Bush...right in front of the whole world.
*A: Shiite blood in the streets! Allah curse you for that, Moammar! When I bring in the Twelfth Mahdi I will sit upon his right side when he rules forever and sign the papers so that you will be dispatched to Paradise without benefit of a martyr’s death...meaning not even one virgin for you, not to mention seventy-two...whew...just the thought...
*Q: Bah! Let’s get down to business. I’m paying someone called “The Donald” one million big ones per hour for this wretched piece of real estate with no room service. I told him it would be a privilege to have my tent on his ground...make it sacred...and he told me I could...bleep, bleep, bleep...
*C: Oh hoo-hah...did he say that? I bet he demanded the rent up front!
*Q: Yes. I had to contact my best American friend, the Honorable Minister Louis Farrakhan, and use his credit card. He owed me anyway...that payback thing for the billion I gave his Nation of Islam in the 90s, under the table, of course, since the N of I is tax-exempt...oh, hoo-hah, a tax exempt organization...the Americans are stupid. That billion was not for picnics at the mosque.
*C: I’ve heard that Farrakhan visited you 25 years ago. Is that true?
*A: Is that true, you ask...is that true...(wild laughter)? Guess who made that trip with the one they call “Calypso Louie” to see Moammar?
*C: His wives, of course.
*A: His wives...oh, ha, ha! Take his wives into the land of the houris, the land of the dancing sirens without burkas (wild laughter)! He took the Rev. Dr. Jeremiah Wright, Obama’s spiritual adviser...for religious reasons, of course...a sort of mini-hajj to Tripoli instead of Mecca! That was the solicitation for a billion big ones and, I’ve heard, where Wright learned that God should damn America because white people put the HIV on the blacks to waste them.
*C: Is that where Farrakhan found out about the levees, too?
*Q: Of course it was. I told him 25 years ago that the army engineers fixed the levees to dissolve and let Lake Pontchartrain flood New Orleans to get rid of black folks whenever an eligible hurricane arrived. All he knew was how to play the fiddle and do assassinations, but I knew all about the evil Americans.
*A: I thought you said we needed to get down to business, Moammar. I need to get back to Tehran as soon as possible to witness the cutting off of hands of the rioters who claimed that I stole the election a few weeks ago. Actually – a little secret here – we’re going to cut off some heads, too, but that part’s only for invited guests...at 100 million rials apiece...little campaign fundraising to pay for vo...for expenses. I learned about that angle in America.
*Q: I need to get back to Tripoli, too, so here’s the business.
*C: Oh, ha, ha. So you’re going to give us the business...like I gave it to Bush.
*Q: Well, not exactly, Hugo, my friend. Mahmoud and I figure that you can give us half your oil and thus drive up the prices everywhere. You’ll still make a profit and we’ll get something to help make our people happy.
*C: And just how do I make any profit on a deal like that?
*Q & A: Have you ever heard of an Islamic fatwa?
*C: But I have a whole well-fed army, you vultures. My oil...never! It’s building up my personal bank accounts all over the world.
*Q: You DO remember PanAm 103, don’t you, Hugo...all those women and children?
*C (agitated): Well...maybe we CAN do business.
And so it goes.
Jim Clark
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