Narrator: Che Guevara's good looks and charm often made him difficult to interrogate.
Interviewer: How can you justify these untruths?!
Che: How can you justify your deep blue eyes?
Interviewer: Er, well. No one's ever really commented on my eyes. So... Anyway let's get back to you lying on me. To me! Fuck.
Narrator: News reporters were also distracted.
Reporter: Kevin, how were the protests in Cuba?
Kevin: Guevara worked up a sweat with a passionate speech. The sweat trickled down his chest, leaving him oiled like a baby otter.
Reporter: Right, but the protest itself?
Kevin: Sorry, yes, ran smoothly. As smooth as his pecs.
Reporter: Kevin.
Kevin: Apologies! Er, the protest was tightly organised. Like his sweaty buttocks.
Reporter: We're gonna go to the weather now.
Narrator: Able to get by with just his hotness, Guevara put less effort into his politics.
Interviewer: What is your economic policy?
Che: My policy?
Interviewer: Yes.
Che: Well, it's simple, baby. My policy's, er... You cannot put, er... Money in the sea. Okay? Baby.
Interviewer: What?
Che: Err... Ask me about my biceps.
Narrator: Eventually his boss, Fidel Castro, stepped in.
Fidel: Che, you need to stop the pretty boy stuff!
Che: You need to stop being so cute.
Fidel: Che, it's not gonna work on me!
Che: That tight outfit works on you.
Fidel: Stop.
Che: You have a sexy beard.
Fidel: You're embarrassing yourself.
Che: You have perfect ears.
Fidel: ...kiss me.
