My dear friend, Vlad.

Why is it we have to keep meeting like this?

I offer you a joint Arctic development deal with Canada and you decide to plant a flag on your own, in your country’s name, of course.

Is it Sarkozy or Hillary that has your feathers ruffled?

Is the great Russian bear feeling shackled by his own political ambitions?

Large gas reserves and a huge land mass.  What else do you want?

Lucky for me, I have undeveloped acres of land available nearby in which I can find a few wild, untamed beings to observe and say to myself, “There is something more important than little, ol’ me.”

The KGB is no more but the CIA lives on.

Let’s put the bottle of vodka on the table between us and throw down a few nightcaps.

You may have many “comforters” waiting for you in your bed.

I tied myself to a promise of monogamy long ago.

We are who we are.

Tell us what’s really going on in your thoughts.

Old political polemics went out of fashion with poets like Pushkin.

We will all profit from new ventures.

But you already know that.

Here’s to you, comrade.  Bottoms up!

“Moammar!  Saddam!  So glad to see you made to Argentina and are doing well.”

“Yes, Mr. President.  We thank your government for providing safe passage all those years ago.  How are you?”

“Well, Saddam.  I could be better.  My daughters, you know, are a handful.  My wife, she’s always overspending our budget.”

“But do your political contributors not secretly deposit many sums of money into your reelection campaign that you will use for your retirement?”

“Of course, Moammar.  Look what they did for you.  Speaking of which, how much do you have in Argentinian bank accounts?  Do we need to increase our subsidies?”

“Haha!  Well, as you know, I have a few billion less than I would have liked, no thanks to your overzealous liberal types.  But enough for me and my extended family to live here for generations.  No reason to make it obvious that I am here.”

“The face surgery went well, I can see.”

“Yes, we kidnapped the best plastic surgeons money and bribery could buy.”

“Kidnapped?  Why did you do that?  I could have sent them down here on a humanitarian mission, and none would have been the wiser, you two being just another couple of humble, poor campesinos needing new identities because you ratted out corrupt South American politicians.”

“Sorry, Barack, old habits.  Your ways are foreign to our way of thinking.”

“Yes, Mr. President, now we will just say they came here for humanitarian purposes and died in an unfortunate battle between the government and Columbian revolutionaries.”

“And what were you going to say if I had not suggested the humanitarian line of reasoning?”

“That they, like one of your American politicians or many of your oversexed actors, came to Argentina to meet girlfriends and were killed by jealous lovers.”

“Uh-huh.  Very good.  Similar to the rumour mill stories that have followed my Secretary of State.”

“Is she as ruthless as they say?”

“Gentlemen, you will never know the true story.  Better that you are on her good side.”

“Mr. President, is there anything we can do for you while you are in our new country?”

“Well, I was wondering.  Are either one of you interested in running for political office?”

“Good question, Barack.  I have been bored all these many years, watching my poor, unprotected people of Iraq suffer the sectarian violence that I was able to prevent with my strong but necessary fatherlike approach.  Many part of Argentina could use a wise, guiding hand like mine.”

“Do you want to control a region of the country or the whole thing?”

“I haven’t made up my mind.”

“Tell you what.  I’ll have my staff work up several background stories for you and you decide which one you feel most comfortable taking on.  Then, we can work out the details of your political ambitions down here.”

“Barack, you are good man, despite what they sometimes say about you in the press.”

“Saddam, it is in my best interest to keep the people happily governed.  Together with you two, we will make this planet great again.”

“Again?”

“Oh well, a slip of the tongue.”

“Mr. President, is it just me or did I just see you blink a second and third set of eyelids?”

“Moammar, we need to talk.  From what I was told, your plastic surgery did not go as planned.  Have you been feeling dizzy lately or hearing strange voices?”

“Now that you mention it, it does seem as if I pick up noises of things and people I do not see.”

“Barack, I have tried to tell him he is joining a group of people who have…how do you put it, new powers?”

“Saddam, we don’t like to use words like ‘power,’ ‘ESP,’ or other new-age terminology to describe our extended body functions.  It gives the wrong impression.”

“But the effect is just the same.”

“Let me finish my conversation with Moammar alone so he will not be confused about what we expect of our reengineered and repatriated compatriots.”

“As you wish.  I’ll go over the information your staff gives me and contact you when…”

“Don’t contact me.  I’ll contact you through the appropriate channels when the time is right.”

“Hey, you’re the new sheriff in town.  My services are at your disposal.”

“No, we all serve a higher purpose.  Remember?”

“But, of course.”

“Well, men, I’ve got to go.  H.W. and I have a private meeting with the rejuvenated Castro.”

“I hear Jimmy is joining you on this one.”

“Yes, he’s taking a private jet to meet us for what he’ll say is a fundraiser for his habitat projects around the world.”

“Before you go, I propose a toast.  To the continued well-being of the Old Gentlemen’s Club!”

“Cheers!”

“Sláinte!”