Being a secret agent, you run into the strangest people. Yesterday I happened upon Saddam in an Undisclosed Location. He was in leg-irons with a Special Forces jamming an M-16 into the back of his head. No particular reason for it, just wanted to make him sweat, he said. They’d taken Saddam to a local McDonald’s and were force-feeding him good ol’ fashioned American capitalism. He looked like he was about to cry.

That, and all the local kids were shoving still-crisping french fries into his forehead like they were putting out cigarettes. Saddy’s always good for a laugh:

So they caught you like a rat, huh?

COBRA!

What?

COBRA!

Ah yes, YO JOE!

Can you believe American pig-dogs are making action figures of Saddam? I twice as muscular as capitalist swine show me.

Can you believe you were hiding in a hole like a little bitch? And seriously, why they hell weren’t you in Aruba by now? What did you think was going to happen?

You are capitalist dog, but you speak the truth. Aruba was totally booked, and I wasn’t doing Jamaica again. Too hectic.

I hear you. So you know you’re going to die, right? Most likely fairly slowly.

Yeah, that totally sucks. I never even got to see the last Matrix.

The butler did it. Any comment about the whole killing thousands of your own people thing?

Eh, what can I say? That Conan O’Brien thing where he puts me on a TV screen with someone else making me talk pissed me off. What else could I have done?

Invested in a punching bag?

… shit.

See ya, wouldn’t wanna be ya…

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