fforts to rebuild Iraq achieved a success Friday when U.N. officials, voiced by Secretary-General Kofi Annan, pledged funding for the reconstruction from the official United Nations "swear jar."

The swear jar, instituted in the 1960s during initial squabbles between Israel and surrounding Islamic nations, became a staple of public negotiations at the U.N. building in New York. Familiar statements such as, "Please, ambassador—there are ladies present," or, "Does the Prime Minister kiss his mother with that mouth?" became outlets for relief of tension with the high-strung representatives of many nations.

The legacy of the swear jar since its inception has spawned many rumors with U.N. fans, or "Unies," as they are called behind their backs. In 1967 the popular story was the swear jar had accumulated $432,000, all of which would be used for a hootenanny-slash-barbecue that summer, until Cold War relations worsened and the jar was put aside for possible war reparations to the eventual winning side. In 1978, after years of U.N. members dipping in for candy bars and vending machine sodas, the swear jar funds were down to $1.3 million, despite accruing an estimated $3.9 million in the time since public discussion of its allocation, and popular sentiment at that time was to use the bounty to build a new recreation room with new pool tables, a 27-inch TV, and a sofa with its upholstry intact. In 1990, during the first Gulf War crisis, the U.N. elected to move the swear jar money to a ceramic Mickey Mouse bank so everyone would be less likely to replenish other funds from swear-earned income.

At Friday's donor dinner, which is fun to say, U.S. Secretary of State Colin Powell addressed attendees from the United Nations and requested approximately $35.8 billion through 2007 or "best offer" for the rebuilding of war torn Iraq, in which we did most of the tearing.

Angry nations and their angrier representatives expressed disinterest in springing for rebuilding out of their own pockets after explicitly making their aversion to the war public. Miniature squabbles resulted in the aftermath, adding an estimated $43 to the swear jar before lunchtime, but U.N. executives managed to chill out the crowd with a copy of Bob Marley's Legend album.

With the uproar squashed, Secretary General Kofi Annan sparked a quiet hush in the room when he turned to Treasury Secretary Candy and asked, "How much is in the swear jar?" After conferring privately with the secretary, Annan nodded and turned back toward the microphone, pronouncing, "I think we can swing it."

Most countries found the pledge agreeable, but the allocation of the swear jar funding did have its opponents. French ambassador Henrí Bois-Bois was quick to voice his dissent.

"If the U.S. expects the rest of the Western world to step in and pay to make its repairs when it gives us no voice in preventing a war, we are setting a dangerous precedent by agreeing to do so," stated the dignitary. "Also, there are many of us who had not given up hope on getting jackets with our names on the back done up. Those are not going to pay for themselves. Does the U.S. propose to pay for those in exchange? This is so unfair."

The swear jar allocation, if it happens, could be the largest expenditure of U.N. community bank since financing a pizza party to settle the Falkland Islands dispute with money found in the rec room couch cushions.

mm, mmm, mmm! Wal-Mart stores around America were hobbled Thursday when bucking young federal agents swooped in and arrested hundreds of illegal alien contract employees to deport them back to wherever they came from, with a friendly, "Better luck next time!" Friday, Wal-Mart explained the hiring practices that allowed so many illegal aliens to be working in their stores: "It's much cheaper."

"Regular labor," said sexy Mike Dunphy, the regional spokesperson for Wal-Mart of America, "is extremely costly in this day and age. Federal law requires you to supply benefits and a certain minimum number of hours for full-time employees. Also, you have to pay exorbitant amounts in overtime for employees working more than 40 hours a week—which can be pricey. Fortunately, Wal-Mart can get around this in most cases by hiring part-time employees, for whom the law offers no protection, and staff our stores with those employees without paying benefits. If we give them few enough hours, we don't pay them overtime, we can sufficiently run our stores for a reduced cost and string along employees for years before they realize they'll never get a full-time position."

All illegal aliens arrested in the federal probe, Dunphy was quick to point out, were not direct employees of the Wal-Mart corporation, but contract employees through other firms, allowing Wal-Mart complete exoneration. The hiring of illegal aliens, the Wal-Mart corporation noted, is against everything they publicly endorse.

"The Wal-Mart company and its subsidiaries has never employed illegal aliens," stated Dunphy, "directly. Now, we're not responsible for who our contractors hire to clean our stores. All we know is we're talking some serious coin to staff people to clean our filthy stores all night. If a contractor comes up to us and says they can get the stores cleaned for a ridiculously low price, what are we going to do, ask them how they can afford to do it? Of course not. Wal-Mart shoppers aren't asking us how we got those Sanyo TVs so discounted. We cut the costs and pass the blame on to you. Did I say blame? I meant savings."

The illegal hiring allegations come at a bad time for Wal-Mart, and Mike Dunphy in particular, who was losing his job at the end of the day. The corporation has recently begun downsizing after years of non-stop growth since its boom in the 1980s. Many believed Wal-Mart a teflon company after it survived past recessions without a scar, and continued to expand, but the announcement that hundreds of jobs would be cut came as a harsh call to reality for some. Damn shame.

"It's no surprise to those of us who work for Wal-Mart," said Dunphy, over cocktails at a local dive. "For years the corporation has barreled ahead to expand in areas where they've already eliminated most of the competition. Creating the illusion of growth is more important than real growth in the modern economy. Bringing superstores to small towns that could barely support a regular Wal-Mart, practices like that. It's like you're outrunning a drunken ex-wife with a butcher knife, sooner or later it catches up with you. The bitch is always right on your ass, economically speaking. You got pretty eyes, angel."

Wal-Mart had not been announced culpable for the employment of contractors who hire illegal aliens at press time, but federal officials said they hope it did not raise the cost of jeans in their area.

Good people, I'm experiencing the most unusual feeling of my entire life. You might call it respect. In fact, I believe that's what it is called, I've made a study of it over the years and I'm 99.9% sure. But it's new to me, and I must say, I like it.

No doubt you believe I've lived with respect every day of my life, but good people, in the interest of telling the truth, I have an admission: I've never been a well-respected man. I know I carry on loudly and speak with conviction like a man rolling in oodles of respect, but it's all been a charade. A big, gay-sounding charade. I've usually been the butt of other people's jokes and nothing but a big joke to those I know, all my life, and it's time I admitted it. Why now? Well, because now I'm getting respect, of course!

As many people will agree, joining the mob was the best thing that ever happened to me. I get 10% off on all my Amoco fill-ups and the organization pays for all my suits. And, it's a subtler difference to most, but people look at me in a new way wherever I go. Except for here at the commune or inside the confines of my own home. But on the way to work or home again, respect! R-E-S-P-E-C-T. You tell 'em, Aretha. I'm feeling you now.

I've always been one to live a humble life, though not by choice, of course. I never knew I had any alternatives. And until putting a hurtin' on Boguslaw Sadowski last week, I didn't. But my fresh new position as mob lieutenant has brought me something I never thought obtainable, and I'm not just talking about a well-fitting suit. People on the street look up to me, even as they're looking down. Store merchants give me "tabs" now, and ask for my help in influencing the mob. Children run up to me and ask if they can do me any favors, instead of knocking me down and stealing my shoes as in the old pre-mob days. And little old ladies remark how nicely dressed and threatening I look. It's an amazing change when just two weeks ago they didn't know my name, and called me "the gargoyle" behind my back.

Of course, there is a downside to joining the mob. The risk of long-term prison sentencing and the morally taxing life of brutal murder and extortion. And frankly, I can tell you, good people, but I've never been much for Italian food myself. It's a superfluous complaint, given my mob is more Eastern European in origin, but if I ever get into some kind of mob exchange program I'm afraid it will be something I have to confront. But when people tell you crime doesn't pay, don't believe it. I have achieved a golden new era of respect thanks to my newfound criminal cohorts. Unless, of course, you are a young and impressionable child who happens to enjoy reading my column. In that case, crime never pays! And drugs are for dopes.

All this is not to say I have given myself over to the mob without reservations. I called far in advance. Forgive my little joke, it's mob humor. All the mobsters really do laugh when I make jokes now. Another little nice addendum to my newfound respect. But there is a nugget of truth in that pearl, and I am still not convinced a life of crime is meant for me. Sure, it's fine if you're a criminal, or aspiring gangsta rapper. But I'm too straight and narrow for these clothes to fit too well for too long.

I lament the day I ever married Felchyana against her will. After all, if you live far enough in denial, this is all her fault, in a way. Still, I don't blame her, or maybe just slightly, and realize Rok Finger got himself into this, Rok Finger will have to get himself out. With Camembert. I'll make Camembert help.

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