Paul Wolfowitz, current head of the World Bank, fled from America two years ago to escape persecution from the Department of Defense. Perched atop the penthouse rooftop of his tax-free chateau in Dubai, Wolfowitz offered a public apology for the exorbitant promotions that he offered his girlfriend, Shaha Riza (whose name, when pronounced in an obscure foreign accent, sounds suspiciously like laughter).
“I made a mistake,” Wolfowitz said, “for which I am sorry.” Expecting a crowd to rival that of the Beatles’ final rooftop concert, he was disappointed when he noticed that only a half dozen drunken American tourists were listening to him, five floors below.
“I never should have appointed Shaha Riza,” he said, starting to chuckle, “I’m sorry. That damn name–it gets me every time.”
“I assure you that nepotism, cronyism, or favoritism never entered into my decision to provide a 70% raise for Ms. Riza. She is not related to me; she is not an old man; and I don’t even favor her that much. But I do lust after her quite often…sometimes even in public.”
At this point, the small crowd became disgusted and dispersed. “T.M.I., dude!” one man yelled, hawking a loogy in Wolfowitz’s general direction.
“I also admit that I appropriated funds from The World Bank to appoint several more young, supple-legged lasses in key positions. Most of their names escape me at the moment, but I recall that we reimbursed them with funds from the humanitarian orphan initiative.”
“Also,” Wolfowitz continued, now addressing an empty street, “I alloted 1 billion dollars to seize empty lands in Darfur to construct a marijuana plantation. For some reason, workers never managed to finish this project on time…and kept demanding food shipments very early in the morning…”