[BEGIN TRANSCRIPT]

(Ringing.)

PRESIDENT AHMADINEJAD: Salaam?

THE PRESIDENT: Mammoo? Listen, I'm sitting here to try to think of just one reason why I shouldn't mobilize my spent, demoralized, paper-thin military to bomb you and your camelfart of a country into last year. You remember last year? I think that was about the time you people finally discovered soap.

PRESIDENT AHMADINEJAD: President Bush?

THE PRESIDENT: I'll give you this much, nomad-boy, you've got balls. What I can only imagine are hairy, sand-covered, itchy balls, but balls all the same. What were you thinking, challenging me to a televised debate? Did you think that was actually gonna happen?

PRESIDENT AHMADINEJAD: I was hoping for a chance to present the arguments for my country's nuclear program–

THE PRESIDENT: Your what?

PRESIDENT AHMADINEJAD: Our nuclear program.

Get the GODLY New Book!

THE PRESIDENT: Your what?

PRESIDENT AHMADINEJAD: Our nuclear program.

THE PRESIDENT: Look, I don't speak Sandish. You're on the phone with the President of the United States of America. The least you could do is speak American for five goddamn minutes.

PRESIDENT AHMADINEJAD: Fine. Our nuke-yoo-ler program.

THE PRESIDENT: Thank you! Now, since it's just you and me, I'm gonna be real straight with you, Mambo–

PRESIDENT AHMADINEJAD: Mr. President, my name is Mahmoud.

THE PRESIDENT: If you don't stop interrupting me, your name is going to be "Sweet Jesus, This Napalm Enema Burns So Bad, I'm Dancing the Mambo", and then I'm gonna bomb you again for taking my buddy Jesus' name in vain. So listen, you're obviously pretty new at this presidenting thing, so let me give you a piece of advice from a pro: debates are for queers. What do you people do to queers over there? Throw rocks at their heads? Chop off their peckers? Throw rocks at their peckers? Point is, it wouldn't look too good for you to go around queering it up with all this sissy "debate" crap. Real men don't debate. Real men fight. So if you wanna look like a man, you can challenge me to a good old-fashioned war, I'll wreck you like the U.S. economy, and we'd call it a day!

PRESIDENT AHMADINEJAD: Mr. President, I simply thought that the peoples of both of our countries, as well as the world at large, could benefit from hearing the two of us honestly voicing our respective incendiary religious lunatic mumbo-jumbo without censorship or manipulation.

THE PRESIDENT: That's another thing! No censorship? No manipulation? What are you, a liberal? I'm telling you, Mambo, that's not helping your whole "I swear I'm not gay" thing. Who do you think you're dealing with? Yeah, I'm gonna let the people hear me debate another world leader without any censorship or fancy editing to make me sound good. Then I'm gonna tax all my rich friends and tell the oil companies to fuck off. Right. Hey, speaking of oil, can you do me a favor and drape a tarp over all your best oilfields? I don't want any blood splattering on 'em by accident when I bomb you.

PRESIDENT AHMADINEJAD: Mr. President, I–

THE PRESIDENT: Let me ask you this, Mister I-Want-The-Right-To-Power-My-Country, why would you even want to mess with me? Take a look at the track record of people who have messed with me so far. Saddam – done for. That Katrina bitch – everyone knows I messed her up but good. Osama – hiding in caves. Is that how you want to live, boy? In a cave? Wait, do you people live in caves already? Am - am I talking to you in a cave right now?

PRESIDENT AHMADINEJAD: No.

THE PRESIDENT: Good. Now, I'll tell you what's gonna happen. You called me out, and that's an insult to my honor. Makes me look bad. So I'm gonna go ahead and respond in kind by blaming you for 9/11^TM and then bomb you back to Admiral Akbar, or whatever golden camel y'all worship. You wanted to debate me? Consider yourself debated. I win! I win!

PRESIDENT AHMADINEJAD: Mr. President–

THE PRESIDENT: Shut up, loser! I win! Nyah-nyah!

(Click.)

[END TRANSCRIPT]

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