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One night near Tikrit ...

Let me tell you it isn't often this old goat get's the wind up, well not in a scared sense anyway, but when my mobile went off the other night I fair jumped four metres.

Picture this. It was a dark in a pretty unsavoury part of the world - Iraq - and I was about to uncover a pretty damn big story near Tikrit when all of a sudden The Torreador's Song by Bizet blasted out from my mobile phone. (Geelong footy fans will know what I'm talking about.)

Anyway, with nerves suitably shattered and bowels considerably loosened I took the call in a quiet whisper.

"Hello?"

"Grumpy?"

"Soddy? Soddem Hussein?"

"Yes hairy pile of calcifying bones, it is I the Butcher of Baghdad, supremo of all I surveille and defender of the faith against the evil infidel invaders!"

"You don't really believe that anymore do you Soddy? I mean, life isn't as grand for you as it once was."

"You are cruel, but correct. May the fleas from 1000 camels infest your armpits."

"Actually, Soddy, I was coming to see you. There are a few things I want to discuss - mainly buying a timeshare in one of your palaces."

"Are you jesting, lackey of the pigdog American buffoon George Dubya Bush? Do you know where I am living at this moment?"

"Unfortunately for you Sod, old fruit, I do and I reckon I'm about two metres from you."

"What? I must have been betrayed. Was it a member of my loyal-but-treacherous family?"

"No, Soddy, you were betrayed by your stench. I mean you have been living in a hole in the ground for the past eight months."

"I blanket bath, you rude old man!"

"I know Soddy, but let's be subtle, you've let your standards drop. I mean look at that beard of yours."

"You can see my beard?!?"

"Yup, although I see you still dye your hair."

"I have new respect for you ancient-and-well-preserved one. But how can you know what I look like."

"Well, I'm looking at you as we speak via a small camera that's been inserted into your hiding hole - you know, sort of like a colonoscopy."

"Anyone else out there?"

"Other than a couple of hundred heavily armed American troops - no one to speak of. Now come on Soddy, open up. It's cold out here and the guys are getting a bit testy. Old Dubya's got a news conference coming up and they want to have you feature heavily."

"Will they humiliate me?"

"Well, only a little. You'll cop a medical inspection that will be beamed around the world. I like the beard and the Wild Man from Borneo look, by the way. But unless you come out shooting everyone will say you are a gutless coward who is only brave when using chemical weapons on civilians, or using a massive army against anyone who can't fight back."

"They are harsh, Grumpy, very harsh. Can I plea bargain?"

"Hmmmmm, I don't that's an option."

"How about a new life in Australia? I've heard it is a very nice country. Nice wine, nice women."

"That could also be difficult - I think our Prime Monster John Howard is already throwing a noose over our giant flagpole in Canberra. But look on the bright - you'll get to see Uzi and Queasy sooner than you'd expected."

"Ooooh dear."

"Look, just surrender ... I'm coming in."

"Don't Grumpy, I'll shoot you. I'll fight my way out. I'll never surrender ... Oh, hello Grumpy, you are thinner than I imagined. By the way, My name is Saddam Hussein, I am the president of Iraq and I want to negotiate ..."

If there is something that has really got up your nose, let Grumpy Old Coot know at grumpy@webwombat.com