What, you didn't really think I'd give up trying to take over the world, did you?
As I'm sure you're aware, America and Russia have just signed an agreement to reduce their nuclear warheads to between 1,500 and 1,675. Which is all very lovely, of course, but an incorrigible power-crazed megalomaniac like me can't help but prick up her ears at this news and ask oh-so-nonchantly, "So, if you won't be needing them any more, I don't suppose you would mind if I...? Thank you so much."
And so I shall dress up as an official-looking cockney dustman*, in a charming little flat-cap-and-hi-vis-jacket number, turning up at both the White House and the Kremlin with a van and a clipboard to take away the warheads "to be destroyed". No one shall question the authority of a cockney dustman, and they wouldn't understand my cockney reply even if they did, so I shall get away scot-free with, ooh, 1,400 or so warheads between the two of them. Lovely jubbly. (See? I'm in character already)
But that's not quite enough, so I shall then implement the second part of my plan. I shall convince Mr Obama that all this brotherly love and 'resetting' of relationships is a damn good idea, and begin giving him relationship counselling with all the other nuclear-weapons-wielding nations his predecessor managed to piss off. We'll start off with some easy NPT ones, like France and China, and then move on to India, Pakistan, North Korea*** and Israel. Hell, why not even do Iraq as well, and make them promise to give up the nuclear weapons they don't have?
As the entire world bathes in the tears of their own joy as they finally settle their differences, promising to love one another and join together in perfect harmony in a rendition of a beautiful peace song for the Earth (maybe one of Michael Jackson's numbers as he's in the news a lot at the moment for some reason), I shall quietly go about collecting all the tossed-aside warheads and arranging them neatly around my HQ. The world will have a brief moment of glorious unity before I announce that they'd better stop singing and start working on gold doubloons to fill my swimming pool or I'll blow them all to smithereens. Mwahahaha.
* It is a well-known fact** that all dustmen of all nationalities on this planet are cockneys. It doesn't matter where they live; they are born with the innate ability to shout incomprehensibly at 6 in the morning to wake you up, and to always sound like they're starting a fight even when they're complimenting you on your shoes. Similarly, all chimney sweeps and greengrocers are cockneys too.
** Whose truth is less well-known.
*** Which will be worth it just for the hilarity of the relationship counselling sessions wherein I shall manipulate Kim Jong Il into admitting that sometimes he really does feel ronery.