AYATOLLAH KHAMENEI is man-handled into his office. Waiting for him are four associates, standing: CONDOLEEZZA, RUMSFELD (an old Wise-guy), VICE-PRESIDENT SCHWARZENEGGER, and BRITISH PRIME MINISTER BOB HOSKINS (a fireplug pitbull type).
PRESIDENT WALKEN sits in KHAMENEI’s recliner
KHAMENEI is knocked to his knees. He looks up to see a smiling WALKEN. They pick him up and roughly drop him in a chair.
WALKEN: [to RUMSFELD] Tell Bob to go outside and do you-know-what.
KHAMENEI’s chair is moved closer to WALKEN’s. CONDOLEEZZA stands on one side of KHAMENEI. RUMSFELD and SCHWARZENEGGER ransack the room. CONDOLEZZA has a bottle of Chivas Regal in her hand, but she has yet to touch a drop.
WALKEN: Do you know who I am, Mr. Khamenei?
KHAMENEI: I give up. Who are you?
WALKEN: I’m the Great Satan. You get me in a vendetta kind of mood, you will tell the virgins in Paradise that you had never seen pure evil so singularly personified as you did in the face of the man who killed you. My name is Christopher Walken. I work as an agent of the Zionist Occupation Government, an arm of the global Jewish conspiracy you want to turn into a mushroom cloud. I hear you were once a religious policeman so I assume you’ve heard of us before. Am I correct?
KHAMENEI: I’ve heard of the Zionists.
WALKEN: I’m glad. Hopefully that will clear up the how-full-of-shit-I-am question you’ve been asking yourself. Now, we’re gonna have a little Q and A, and, at the risk of sounding redundant, please make your answers genuine. This ain’t the fucking European Union you’re talking to here.
[He takes out a pack of Chesterfields.]
Want a Chesterfield?
KHAMENEI: No.
WALKEN: [as he lights up] I have some nukes of my own. Some of them I’ve had to give up. I can imagine how painful this must be for you. But you and that bitch-whore president of yours have brought this on yourselves. And I implore you not to go down the road to Armageddon. You can always take comfort in the fact that you never had a choice.
KHAMENEI: Look, I’d help you if I could, but I haven’t seen any “nukes”
Before KHAMENEI can finish his sentence, WALKEN slams him hard in the nose with his fist.
WALKEN: Smarts, don’t it? Gettin’ slammed in the nose fucks you all up. You got that pain shootin’ through your brain. Your eyes fill up with water. It ain’t any kind of fun. But what I have to offer you. That’s as good as it’s ever gonna get, and it won’t ever get that good again. We talked to your neighbour, Saddam. Remember him, and his sons, Huey and Dewey? They hadn’t seen any nukes. Hell, we never saw any nukes, but you ain’t seen your neighbour for some time, have you Mr Khamenei?
KHAMENEI is defeated.
Yes! The The Soft-Shoe Hoofer for President.
Sweet.
You need to get out more. I never understand your little role-plays.
Au contraire. He needs to write *more* roleplays. They’re funny as fcuk.
Sounds like a mild version of what Dubcek got from Brezhnev.