;وي ... بيحرر ليبيا" she said. I stood up and mimed the events of the morning - the green tea, the spitting, and the hole in the time / space continuum. "Yo, b***h, what you trying to say to me right now?" the woman continued.

Turns out she and the other bodyguards spoke English. They had learned it from watching Jersey Shore, so I had to remember to throw in a lot of epithets as we conversed, or else they were unable to understand me. They also liked it when I did a Vivian Davenport and burped - apparently it's a compliment over there or something.

I decided to join the guards in an effort to overthrow the regime by harming Ghadaffi in an act of Dahij. First, though, I had to suffer as the General himself came in and insisted on performing his own version of "Like a Virgin," complete with a Gaultier cone bra.

Suddenly there was a kerfuffle in the all-female troops. The first guard that I had met began to whisper frantically to me, and I realized that the entire staff was going to be given a virginity check. I knew I wouldn't pass that, so I retrieved my bottle of green tea from my robes, waved goodbye to the other female guards, and spat some of the liquid on the walls of the Tripoli Palace.

Saddened by the realization that I failed in my attempt to single-handedly liberate the people of Libya, I put the tea bottle into a spare radioactive waste container where it still sits, downstairs in my basement. And I fear that I shall never be able to scrub my mental image of Moammar singing, "Gonna give you all my love, boy, my fear is fading fast...."