Saddam Hussein

Hi. I’m Saddam Hussein. You might remember me from my worldwide hits Massacre At Halabja, Gulf War I, and Gulf War II.

I’m here to tell you about custard, Bird’s™ Custard—The Choice of Despots™.

[Raises pack to camera stiffly. Walks along featureless metal corridor towards prison kitchen, but slowly because his ankles are chained together.]

[Looking sideways at camera:] You know, a lot of people say to me: “Sit down, Mr Hussein! Respect the authority of this court!”

And I say to them, “Where is my Bird’s™ Custard?”

When you’re dealing with a packed schedule like mine—squinting at the Koran, shouting incoherently, complaining about the room service, being accused of crimes against humanity by terrified old peasant women—you really feel the need at the end of a day to kick back with a pie and maybe pick up the phone and shoot the breeze with an old friend.

Jacques Chirac

It’s at times like that, that a hip and groovy jailbird like me yearns for the authentic home-cooked taste of Bird’s™ Custard.

[Close-up of stage custard being poured over a slice of stage apple pie. A metal file protrudes from the crust.]

VOICEOVER: “Thicker than George W Bush, richer than Yassir Arafat, yellower than a cowed tyrant—Bird’s™ Custard is truly the rightful ruler of dessert toppings.”

[A lookalike scoops up a mouthful with a spoon and swallows it lip-smackingly.]

Mmm! Defeat never tasted so good!

[Final pack shot next to close-up of Hussein’s face.]

Bird’s™ Custard: right now, I’d kill for some.