Well, speaking for the Republican Guards, I’d like to drone on and on … not letting anyone get a bullet in edgewise until I begin to dodge at the front and fall over backwards.
Then there’s that well-known Iraqi song, Eric the Half a SCUD.
Mr Saddam is hiding inside one of these presidential palaces. Mr Saddam, will you please step outside.
As you can see Mr Saddam has learned an important lesson about not being seen: Do not step outside.
I’ll miss Mohammed Saeed al-Sahaf and his Ministry for Silly Talks
“Hello! I would like to buy a missile license.”
“A what?”
“A license, for my missile, Eric”
“How did you know my name was Eric?”
“No my missile’s name is Eric, Eric the missile. He is a Al-Samoud”
“A What?”
“He… is a… Al-Samoud”
“You’ve got a Al-Samoud Missile?”
“Yes. I chose him out of thousands. I didn’t like the others, they were all too flat.”
“You must be a loony!”
"I am not a loony! Why should I be tied with the epithet loony merely because I have a Al-Samoud Missile? I’ve heard tell that Sir Gerald Nabardo has a FAW 200 called Simon and you wouldn’t call him a loony; furthermore, Dawn Pailthorpe, the lady show-jumper, had a Al-Hussein, called Stafford, after the late Chancellor, Allan Bullock has two SCUDS, both called Chris, and Marcel Proust had an Roland! So, if you’re calling the author of ‘A la recherche du temps perdu’ a loony, I shall have to ask you to step outside!
“Alright, alright, alright. A license.”
“Yes”
“For a missile?”
“Yes.”
“You are a loony.”
“Look, it’s a bleeding weapon, isn’t it? I’ve got a license for me Gun Eric, and I’ve got a license for me Slingshot Eric…”
“You don’t need a license for your Slingshot.”
“I bleeding well do and I got one. He can’t be called Eric without it–”
“There’s no such thing as a bloody Slingshot license.”
“Yes there is!”
“Isn’t!”
“Is!”
“Isn’t!”
“I bleeding got one, look! What’s that then?”
“This is a gun license with the word ‘gun’ crossed out and ‘slingshot’ written in in crayon.”
“The man didn’t have the right form.”
“What man?”
“The man from the weapon detector van.”
“The loony detector van, you mean.”
“Look, it’s people like you what cause unrest.”
“What missile detector van?”
“The missile detector van from See-Ay-Eh”
“See-Ay-Eh??”
“It was spelt like that on the van. I’m very observant! I’d never seen so many bleeding aerials. The man said that their equipment could pinpoint a projectile at four hundred yards! And Eric, being such a big slingshot, was a piece of cake.”
“How much did you pay for this?”
“Sixty quid, and eight for the tazer”
“What tazer?”
“Eric the tazer.”
“Are all your weapons called Eric?”
“There’s nothing so odd about that: Kemal Ataturk had an entire arsenal called Abdul!”
“No he didn’t!”
“Did!”
“Didn’t!”
“Did, did, did, did, did and did!”
“Oh, all right.”
“Spoken like a gentleman, sir. Now, are you going to give me a missile license?”
“I promise you that there is no such thing. You don’t need one.”
“In that case, give me a nuke license.”
“A license for your nuke?”
“Yes.”
“Called Eric? Eric the Nuke?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No, Eric the Half-Nuke. He had an accident.”
“You’re off your Chump!”
“Look, if you intend by that utilization of an obscure colloquialism to imply that my sanity is not up to scratch, or indeed to deny the semi-existence of my little chum Eric the Half-Nuke, I shall have to ask you to listen to this! Take it away, Eric the orchestra leader!..”
“A one… two… A one… two… three… four…”
:: applause, to one and all ::
“We’re fresh out of Waldorfs of Mass Destruction.”
“YES, WE ARE ALL INDIVIDUALS. WE’VE GOT TO THINK FOR OURSELVES.”
“Someday, Qsay, all this will be yours.”
“What, the curtains?”
“Erm, yes.”
IRAQI OFFICER: “Right, now you stay here, and make sure that these POWs don’t leave.”
IRAQI GUARD #1: [Hiccups]
IRAQI GUARD #2: “Uh, what, sir?”
[very long & silly sketch follows]
GENERAL FRANKS: Right, stop the thread!
This is getting too silly. I merely said that Saddam’s regime is an ex-regime. Now, stop all this nonsense!
SADDAM: “Oh, you’re no fun anymore…”
Hello children, hello. It’s story time.
Is everybody ready? Then we’ll begin …
One day Saddam, the magic Arab went to visit Kelley Kuwait in her tumble-down Kingdom. He found her in the desert. Roughly grabbing her heaving shoulders and hurriedly rushing her to the tent, he ripped away her thin burqa …
I’ll start again …
Old Qusai, the sadist, was a rough, tough jolly sort of Baathist. He loved torturing athletes and hanging around down by the docks where the men dressed as donkeys …
er …
Odai Hussein launched the dinky tinky Scud from the foot of the magic mastic tree near the wobbly ack-ack gun in the shade of the magic bunker, down in Tikrit dell. There he sold chemical weapons and …
What? …
Chemical Ali was … WITH A CAMEL?!?
That’s all for story time today children.
It’s Saddam. He’s scrabbling around in there behind the Wainscotting…
Wainscotting… Wainscotting… sounds like a little Iraqi village. Wainscotting!
And now, Mr. Hussein, you have won tonight’s star prize, the Blow to the Head! Now, what would you say if I told you that you could trade that for… a Poke in the Eye and a Scud Up the Ass?
Life imitates Python !
Marine: Old woman!
Man: Man!
Marine: Sorry, but from behind. . .
Man: I’m 37.
Marine: What?
Man: I’m 37, I’m not old.
Marine: Sorry, but from behind you looked. . .
Man: You could’ve called me Sadd. . .Dennis.
Marine: I didn’t know you were called Dennis. . .wait. . .what was the name you started to say???
Man: Help! Help! I’m being repressed!!
Or something like that. I dunno. It’s the best I can do.
If only my quasi-encyclopedic knowledge of Python didn’t fail me, I would have a clever quip to interject.
“Right now, this is battle 24, a fantastic battle with lots of action and quite possibly-”
“On with the war!”
"Waitress: Well, there’s egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and JDAM; egg bacon and JDAM; egg bacon sausage and JDAM; JDAM bacon sausage and JDAM; JDAM egg JDAM JDAM bacon and JDAM; JDAM sausage JDAM JDAM bacon JDAM tomato and JDAM, or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and JDAM.
Saddam: Have you got anything without JDAM?
Waitress: Well, there’s JDAM egg sausage and JDAM, that’s not got much JDAM in it.
Saddam: I don’t want ANY JDAM!"
“Where’d you get the Tomahawks?”
“We found them.”
“Found them? In Mosul? The Tomahawk’s termperate!”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, this is a tropical zone.”
“The swallow may fly south with the sun or the house martin or the plover may seek warmer climes in winter, yet these are not strangers to our land?”
“Are you suggesting Tomahawks migrate?”
Yes, but was that an African Tomahawk or a European Tomahawk?