It's little old me, Muammar Quadaffi, or Quadaffy Duck as you might have called me back in the old days when I was the world's favourite Middle Eastern bogeyman.
My how things have changed.
In case you've been living in a cave, like a certain fundamentalist dingus, I've been taken off the official American shit-list as a terrorist supporting state and can now have full, formal diplomatic relations.
It's amazing how a man who was once the scourge of all that is good in the world is now going to be back as a full member of the international community. And it couldn't have come at a better time, oil prices are sky-high, and I got light sweet crude coming out of my national wazoo.
Now you're probably wondering how I managed to pull all this off when my colleagues in Iraq and Afghanistan have been toppled by one of the most pro-active governments in American history.
Well the answer is simple.
I am not an idiot.
You see the Taliban thought the USA was a paper tiger that would fold faster than The Flash on laundry day, and Saddam thought his oil-for-bribes buddies in Russia, France and the UN would protect him from the Yanks.
Now you see, they are what you call idiots.
They're dummer than sack of sand.
They're the kind of people who go from ruling a country to spending their retirements either in a hole, a cave, or a cell waiting for someone to get around to hanging them.
Well, Muammar don't play that way.
I saw that the Yanks were looking to take on all comers after 9/11, so I took a chill pill and played it safe. I ditched my WMD programs, and cut off the cash I normally spent on terrorists.
Cutting off the terrorists was actually the easiest part. There used to be a time when terrorism was all about worker's revolutions and stuff, but now it's all about caliphates, crackpots, and telling me that our women have to wrapped up like flour sacks because their beauty somehow offends Allah.
Let me tell you something brother: Any world where Muammar can't scope out the ladies is a world that ain't worth living in.
Getting rid of the WMDs was tough. I liked how they made me feel like a big bad-ass, but Bush ofoffered to trade them for a new XBox 360 and a copy of Halo3, and that was a deal I just couldn't refuse.
Now I've got to do some more things to show that I'm a good guy now.
Like that Lockerbie thing... my bad.
Last time I let the Syrians talk me into something...
I'd now like to take a minute to tell my fellow dictators that all this terrorism, nuke-mongering, and Israel threatening will only lead them to their own personal hole in the ground. So smarten up, straighten out, and start making some serious coin of your oil reserves so you can have some real fun.
It's great to be back among the normal. I hope to show Condi Rice the new hot tub I installed behind my tent and...
Well, we'll work all that out later.
Isn't great that we're all friends now?