So... just before I left, my National Defense boy, Stevie Hadley, gave me a memo saying how Mr. Alâ€¦ Mr. allah-Makkaâ€¦ erâ€¦ Mr. ally-Malakkawakkadingdong-or-whatever-that-sand-coon's-name-is is a total stupid loser. Gee, Stevie – an Iraqazoid who can't even wipe his own ass? Well duuuuh! Next time, send me a memo about how fish swim and rabbits fuck.
So yeah, I traveled thousands of miles for this face-saving PR stunt. I even gave up a weekend in Crawford. And I was looking forward to telling him the folksy new nickname I made up for him: "Dead Man Walking."
But... well... the motherfucker blew me off.
Stood me up.
Can you believe it? I mean, who does this guy think he is? If it weren't for me bombing his lousy shithole of a country into total hopeless chaos, this guy never would have had a chance to be Prime Minister. He'd still be just another Arabiac nobody. Dead Man Walking owes me everything! And this is the thanks I get?
First time in history someone's snubbed a U.S. President like that. How humiliating.
And everywhere I went over there, people were pointing and snickering at me. Well, the ones who weren't ignoring me.
So I left. Figured I oughtta get back here to America – where I'm still real important and all.
And now I'm back!
Ready to be important again! Ready to make real important decisions and stuff!
So, anyone got any questions?
(Lights click out.)