9/2/96
Dear
Saddam...
You
should only respond as well to chemotherapy
as you do to my letters.
Dear
Saddam,
I read in the paper you have lymphoma.
Well, I'd like you to know I had it too,
and I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.
Or so I thought.
Yours truly,
Sam Orbaum
Dear
Mr. Orbaum,
You are mistaken. Our President is
not ill. He is inhuman and therefore is
not prone to the human miladies. He is sorry
about your speedy recovery, and wishes you
the fate of all Zionists: that you should
grow lumps as big as camels' humps.
Insincerely,
Wabash ibn Ishkebib-el,
Aide to the President
And His Nephew
Dear
Mr. Ishkebib-el,
Thank you for your letter. I can't
express enough happiness that the President's
condition is as reported. May His Highness
enjoy the life expectancy of an Iraqi aide
when Saddam's in a bad mood.
Zionistically yours,
Sam Orbaum
Dear
Mr. Orbaum,
I have passed on to His Heinous your
warm wishes as well as your address. He
would like to send you a gift by air: renovations
for your sealed room. He dearly hopes you
will be home to receive it.
With warrest wishes,
Wabash ibn Ishkebib-el
Loyal Underling,
Aide, Nephew, and
Minister of Zionist Scoffery
Dear
Wabash,
Good to hear from you again. I hope
Saddam is responding as well to treatment
as he is to my letters. I hope he is permitted
visitors because one of my friends, who
works for our national interests abroad,
happens to be in Baghdad and is very concerned
with Saddam's life.
Your friend in Israel,
Sam
PS:
Has his hair begun to fall out yet?
Dear
Sam,
The President is sick and tired.
Of receiving your letters. His doctors assure
him that his nausea is a Zionist plot, caused
by you.
Once and for all, let me assure you
His Grossness does not have cancer, he has
aids like me that will take care of him
for good. And also, his country loves him,
which yours doesn't. Love you, I mean.
Your enemy in Iraq,
Wabash
PS:
His hair will never fall out because it
was put there by God.
Dear
Wabash,
So how are things? I figure by now
he's had his first bone biopsy, may the
doctor's needle be as accurate as a Scud.
I imagine Saddam with his bare tushy up
in the air, and think how much he and I
have in common. I mean, he must be entirely
bald by now.
Merkinly yours,
Sam
PS:
I enclose a swatch of my hair, which has
grown back. Saddam can use it as a wig for
his upper lip. Don't ask where I clipped
it from.
Dear
Sam,
How did you know Saddam's moustache
has fallen out? The President is furious.
No one is supposed to know. He suspects
there is a Zionist spy in his midst, passing
on state secrets. His entire medical staff
has been executed because of your last letter.
Thought you'd like to know.
Up yours,
Wabash
Heir to the Presidency
PS:
Your gift was appreciated. The President
wears it all the time, and can once again
be seen in pubic.
Dear
Wabash,
Glad to hear you're still alive.
Hey, I like your new title. But from what
I hear about Saddam's megalomania, maybe
you should defect. Like his sons-in-law
said, heir today, gone tomorrow. Ha, ha.
Your Zionist conspirator (let's see
how you explain that to Saddam! Ha,
ha),
Sam
PS:
Did you know that in Israel, cancer patients
don't pay income tax? I'll bet with the
kind of salary Saddam gets, the tax rebate
could really turn around your economy.
Dear
Mr. Orbaum,
Your letter to Mr. Wabash ibn Ishkebib-el
was passed on to me for response. I am sorry
but the abovementioned has narrowly escaped
a terrible personal tragedy: he escaped.
PS: His Bloatedness the President
would like to know more about the tax exemption.
Can you send us the forms?
Yours in disdain,
Kihl Umm Al
Executive Execution Executor
And Tax Specialist
Dear
Mr. Al,
Sorry to hear about Wabash, but I
guess it's a good sign: Saddam's back at
work. Please tell your president -- and
I think I speak for the whole world -- that
it's a pity he survived the Siege of Baghdad
just to come to this.
May his red-bloodedness soar at the
expense of his white count.
Yours in remission,
Sam Orbaum
PS:
I spoke to the authorities. They said Saddam
should pick up the forms here in Jerusalem.
In person. It's a straighforward procedure,
actually: they'll want to see all his documents,
ask him a few questions, and presto, they'll
ensure he has enough money to last a lifetime,
however short that may be.
cc:
Shimon Peres
Dear
Mr. Orbaum,
Just had a quick word with the President.
It seems he's not getting straight answers
from his doctors. (It seems when he does,
he needs new doctors.) He has some questions
for you about the side effects. He has poor
vision, bad taste, addled brain, itchy fingers,
grouchiness and a mad desire to leave a
lasting mark on society. Did you suffer
the same conditions?
Omar Zift
Minister of Health Or Else
And Brother-in-Law-in-Waiting
Dear
Mr. Zift,
Yes. But it my case, it was from
chemotherapy.
Sam
"Hello? Can I speak to Mr. Orbaum
please."
"Speaking."
"Wabash here."
"In the name of Allah, where
are you?"
"It's a secret. Hold on, Hussein
wants to talk to you."
"Saddam?!"
"No, King Hussein."
"You mean I'm gonna talk to
the goddamn king of Jordan?!"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Oh. Sorry, your Highness. Figure
of speech."
"I will be direct. How are you?"
"Fine, thanks."
"Hmm. Pity."
"Excuse me?"
"Nothing personal. Wabash here
tells me you had the same thing Saddam's
got. My kingdom is, you could say, on shpilkes,
wondering if he's going to make it or not."
"So you were hoping I'd be,
uh, unable to come to the phone. Eternally."
"Yes. Sorry."
"Isn't peace wonderful."
"Mr. Orbaum, you could do the
entire Middle East a great favor. Next time
you write Saddam, tell him you're not doing
so good. Tell him you have to stay in bed
all the time, that you quit your job because
work is bad for your health. Maybe he'll
take the hint."
"You want me to lie to a dictator?!"
"It's for the sake of world
peace."
"Gee."
Dear
Saddam,
So how are you? Still constipated?
I really don't know how you can run a country
in your condition. Take my advice: ease
up a little. When I was at your stage, I
was in no shape to slaughter Kurds, overrun
Kuwait or purge the military. You can enjoy
life again when you get your strength back.
For now, do like I did. Take up a
hobby, like stamp collecting, or baking,
or maybe join a Scrabble club. Spend more
time with the children. (Granted, mine didn't
defect.) Watch TV, read a book, visit friends.
(You do have friends, no?)
As my wife always says, Saddam, we're
not so different, you and me.
Your confrere in chemo,
Sam
PS:
Perhaps I could recommend a brilliant Jewish
doctor...
Dear
Sam,
I am the Ethereal Warrior of the
Chosen People of God, President for Life
of the Great and Good Arab Light Unto the
Nations, the Humble Savior Saddam Hussein
of Iraq.
You are Zionist dung.
At any rate, thanks for getting in
touch. I do not, of course, have cancer,
or any other common frailty, but if I did,
it would be with the purpose of serving
my nation. Like, for instance, offering
my body as a factory for germ warfare for
use against the evil Jew scavengers.
Alright, so for argument's sake,
let's say I do have lymphoma for said sacred
purpose. And you, because you are a despicable
Jew, were punished by Allah with the very
same thing. And furthermore let us remember
that I am exalted and you are worthless.
With all that in perspective, I demand to
know this: why me, Lord? It's just not fair.
Iran couldn't vanquish me, America couldn't
beat me, the whole damn world tried to kill
me and couldn't, and now I have met my match
and it is a node.
I am grateful for your correspondence,
for you have unwittingly provided me with
intelligence, which we sorely lack, on the
Zionist entity. Now we know, for instance,
that the soft underbelly of the Jew economy
is income tax. Our next war will be won
thanks to you. (Incidentally, would you
mind popping those forms in the mail as
soon as possible?)
I trust you will keep this letter
confidential. If you tell anyone I have
contacted you, I will deny it, and you have
that here in writing.
Regards,
Saddam
PS:
I have all the brilliant Jewish doctors
I need. I simply took a few Moslem ones
and converted them.