When I Fought Saddam

 

Years back when the Bloominberg diamond that was lent out to the British museum in London .... England was stolen, MI-5 put their best man on the case. SG-19 also put their third from best on the case too which was me cos the other two were on holiday at the time so technically I was the best, and don't you forget it.

I found myself in a typical London alleyway, it was the early 80's and every alleyway had it's own smoke machine .... yes everyone, even the alleyways smoked back then and it never gave us cancer but if it had we would have laughed in its face and would have been grateful.

I squared off against a street thug that I was going to squeeze for information. He looked cocky and defiant as if he had powerful rich friends. I could tell this would get real violent real soon.

In my highly trained mind I chose a plan of attack, I'd feign submission and let my shoulders slump, strike at his throat, he'll attempt a wild haymaker, I'd deploy an elbow block then body shot, block his left jab, cut with a cross to right cheek followed by an elbow to his face breaking his eye socket then end with a front kick to the sternum .... all planned out in a split second through years of training and sparring.  

I woke up in hospital, my only mistake was when I started to day dream while planning my attack which gave him an advantage.
I'd only been in my coma for 3 days, that was nothing compared to the 8 weeks in 1978 when I told Leon Spinks that he got lucky when he beat Muhammad Ali ... I got my revenge when I found out his home address. Should I own up to it? .... Ok, in 1980 I knocked on his front door and ran away, he was all like wha? He didn't have a clue who it was, revenge is so sweet. Fuck you and yer London look teeth ... was what I would have said to his face.

A large bouquet of flowers with a note that said, "hope you get well soon, stop asking questions and you'll stay that way" I examined the handwriting, licked and sniffed the card, wasn't European it was more nutty but not Russian A-HA! obviously Middle Eastern.

I pumped my contact from Mossad from some information. She verified that Al-Koblah was at the museum shortly before the theft, he was Saddam's number one jewel thief.

Donald Rumsfeld the Special Envoy to the Middle East under Reagan. 

If would be difficult getting into Iraq for a mission against Saddam, he was very tight with the US and Reagan had it out for me cos he was jealous of the history I had with Nancy. It was all very messy, no seriously, Nancy was a right squirter.

Since the US was selling weapons to Iran and Iraq while all the time trying to mediate peace I slipped inside a container marked bio hazard which was heading to Iraq, I just assumed it was like Baby Bio plant food so I'd be grand.... strangely enough it must have been like plant food as I did grow a foot within 8 weeks of that mission but I had it removed as it was growing in an odd place and I couldn't cut the toenails very well.  

I faced off against Saddam at his secret castle and demanded he returned the Bloominberg diamond ... ya still remember about that right? he said "Ack bach halli ouc da ne hadisha bo lokach he na suclueh ole Knudsen" so I repeated my demand SLOWLY AND LOUDER so he could understand, I do speak fuckin English ya cheeky cunt.

He laughed and pulled out a big shiny sword. Old Knudsen has been laughed at by better folk than him but there was something about that sword, then it struck me, ouch! It was Excalibur, I knew it back when Aurthur had it and called it Calibur.
How was I to defeat him? I could shag his wife like Lancelot did, he had 2 so which one should I pick ? That daydream cost me an arm (it grew back a year later) his mocking laughter and hacks at my body was starting to bend my shite then I noticed that he had the diamond put into the hilt of the sword ... Aurthur was always humming and hawing what to put into the hilt as he hated emeralds and sapphires, it had to be kingly looking  ... no wonder he never noticed Lancelot and Guinevere round the back of the tents.

Saddam thought that with a limb missing and several pints of blood gushing out of me that I was done for and he got careless. I used my remaining good hand and ripped his mustache clean off his face. If I had a camera phone back then I'd have taken a selfie with it.

Saddam screamed like a little gurl and dropped the sword, I picked it up and stood over him and bellowed "Cry Gog for Harry, England, and Saint George!" and raised the mystical blade, suddenly in a fiery explosion Saddam flew into the sky just missing my blade of justice ... A fucken jet pack, what is this, the 21st century?

I returned the Bloominberg diamond to the Bloominbergs who needed it for their zionist new werld order and for tax purposes, I gave Excalibur to the ancient and wise Merlin, he'd know what to do with it.

Well he actually got totally pissed on apple scrumpy during one of those solstice thingys and threw it into a lake, we haven't spoken to each other since.              
   
What was the point to this story? Well now you know why Saddam wore a fake mustache for all those years, yep that was all me. His old mustache became feral and lived up in the Sinjar Mountains before the Kurds were able to track it down and kill it in 2005.

Upon returning to SG-19 I wrote up my report and was promoted to Head field agent of the suicide mission task force. I'd asked if I was getting any medals cos I likes getting medals but they were all out and due to the recession they couldn't afford any more, always the way.