"The Evidence Against Iraq" Tapes as Presented to the U.N.

El Colonel (with a gruff voice): Hey, Capitano Gringo...you there?
El Capitano (with a humorous squeaky voice): Ci, Senior. It is I, El Capitano, at your nastiest bidding.
El Colonel: Shuddupayaface you stupid little man and listen to mea!
El Capitano: Ci, ci, El Colonel. I am all a da ears!
El Colonel: Justa be quiet anna do what I saya! I wanna you to take all ov de nuclear weapons that we've got seceretly stashed in the cellar, right...and I wanna you to hide them somewhere really sneaky. Comprende?
El Capitano: Ci, El Colonel. Justa give me one minute.

Sounds of scuffling feet and pots smashing, accompanied by the howl of a cat, the slam of a large door and several padlocks being fastened. Scurry of feet heading back to the phone.

El Capitano: It's done, your most magnificent Colonel, Sir! I 'ave hidden zem in the wardrobe in my bedroom where those capitalist Americans with their big willies and their intelligent ways and their Coca Colas will never find them.
El Colonel: Doh! El Capitano! You are an imbecille!

Sounds of slapping and whimpering noises. Fade to static.

Copyright the Marx Brothers 1952. (Previously unpublished MGM Sketch recently plagiarised by Small Colon Powell)

Editor's note: No, I'm not back yet. Just making sure that my keyboard hasn't healed up whilst I've been gone. My gallbladder certainly hasn't. The latest reports from the front line in the Gall Bladder War indicate that a pre-emptive strike will be made in approximately two months time. Nothing short of a total regime change (i.e. having the damned thing removed) will suffice, thus ridding the Western World of the evil little bastards once and for all. In the meantime I will drop by whenever my current pain threshold permits.