Osama, Ayman, and Mahmoud

It’s late at night in a cave just east of the Afghanistan-Pakistan border. Osama bin Laden and his second-in- command, Ayman al-Zawahiri, are meeting with Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, hereinafter referred to as O, A, and M.

~O: Ayman…Allah be praised for somebody finally getting these poppies smuggled in…have the evil Americans started to leave, on the rumor you put out that I’m dead and headed for the virgins and no longer available?
~A: Bah! The Americans have been heard laughing on their radios…Allah give them bruised ear drums…and betting on whether you make paradise by UPS or FedEx or the Postal Service, in which case you will miss the virgins, traveling uninsured by the stingy Saudis and probably winding up in Baghdad where the Shiites…Allah give them the water-board treatment…will laugh on al Jazeera-TV and hang you just like…
~M: (jumping to his feet)…Just hold it there, you son of a goat and one-eyed sheep…Allah look down on me, your warrior…or I’ll put out that other eye and…
~O: (waving his AK-47)…A thousand of Arabian Nights apologies, Mahmoud, the most famous Shiite in all the world! (glares at al Zawahiri) Ayman simply gets carried away sometimes, especially when there’s a pilgrimage somewhere – about all the time in that accursed pig-sty of Iraq – and innocent believers get themselves homicided by the suiciders without the benefits of martyrdom and thus no guarantee for the men of the virgins…Allah forgive Ayman, for, as Mohammed said, he knoweth not what he doeth and…
~A: (getting up off his knees)…Wrong scripture, Osama…Allah be mortified…Mohammed didn’t forgive anyone. He said to kill infidels anywhere possible, especially just after they leave an ATM with a withdrawal…okay a loose translation but better than the King James.
~O: Right, Ayman…Allah bless you and all your harem! In this damned cave I can never find east, to pray, with this accursed Russian surplus compass. It points at Lenin’s Tomb instead of true north sometimes and at Stalin’s tomb at other times and at the old KGB Headquarters at other times, so I can never calculate which way to face for my prayers five times a day. Obviously, I’ve been praying in the wrong direction to make such a statement as that. Allah be merciful to me!
~M: Brothers of the sword…Allah bless it with a sharp edge and American blood…shall we get down to business? I’m due at a beheading class just after daylight, with two Sudanese women as resource material. Your man Zarqawi…Allah bless his bullet-holes…awakened an interest in Iran in that ancient art before he was accidentally misdirected to that place that night – not a no-burka house of the rising sun that the corrupted minds claim, by the way – and massacred by the evil lovers of Israel, with their accursed bagels and lox…may Allah inundate them with doughnuts and peanut butter.
~A: A-A-R-R-G-G-H-H!!!! Zarqawi had promised us some fresh figs and CDs of the Dixie Chicks and tapes of the American decadent Reality shows that we only observe in order to educate our youth against running around naked on South Sea islands, and…Allah, forgive him…got himself all shot up at that place where the women don’t even wear chadors, I’ve heard.
~M: (visiby shaken)…Allah be glorified…I’ve never heard such a scream as that, Osama. I don’t doubt that part of Ayman’s tonsils are at the gate of Paradise.
~O: Ayman goes off like that occasionally ever since he heard the decadent Howard Dean make that awful screech in Iowa back in 2004…may Allah bring blight on all those cornfields…and Senator Harkin egged him on. (turns to A)…You do that one more time, Ayman, and I’ll bury this AK-47 barrel amongst your back teeth.
~M: So, we all have a common need to talk to the Americans – right? That’s why we’re here – right? To map our strategy – right? Iron out our differences…Allah be kind…then maybe even waste the Americans? (wild laughter all around) The cowboy Bush won’t even answer my letters. I wrote him 18 pages last time and even warned him that the Imam Mahdi’s second coming from Paradise is imminent and that he would lay waste Crawford, Texas, if he didn’t shut up about my bombs.
~O: Wasting your time…Allah be aggravated and aggrieved…if you think you can get him or that awful Rice woman…Allah damn her for not wearing at least the chador…to talk to you. I’m tired of this sopping prayer rug in this bat-infested cave and I’ve hinted through the channels in Egypt, Syria, Lebanon, Jordan and Cindy Sheehan that I’m ready to talk about everything, but the cowboy…
~A: I have the brilliant idea…Allah be thanked for my great mind! Who in all of America is most willing to talk to the enemy?
~M: This is not that decadent CBS quiz show Jeopardy where they ask answers and give questions, Ayman. Why not just tell us?
~A: Simple. Senator Kerry, of course…Allah be thanked for him. He talked to the enemy in Paris in 1970 and claimed in Congress that the Americans killed 200,000 innocent Viet citizens each year in the 1960s. There’s a picture of him with that strange American woman, Jane Fonda, who laughed in Hanoi while Senator McCain was at the Hanoi Hilton. (wild laughter all around) The Hanoi Hilton…what a place, better than Abu Ghraib…praise Allah for the water-boarding!
~M: (jumping up) Mention that one more time and I’ll…
~O: Not to be bothered, Mahmoud. Ayman means nothing by that. But Senator Kerry might be just the man. He and Senator Dodd – that pretender to the presidency, HA, HA – have just been to Syria…the enemy, along with you, Mahmoud, though not important enough to be part of the Axis of Evil. If he will disgrace his country by talking to Hassan…Allah be thanked for suitable traitors…he might talk to you.
~M: How could I contact this Senator Kerry? And I saw that picture…maybe he could introduce…
~O: She’s an old woman now…older than you…older than me, too come to think of it. She goes around and makes speeches but she won’t lead you to Kerry. You could best get to him through that news icon, Dan Rather…praise Allah for investigators of bad Americans and old typewriters in Texas!
~A: It’s that famous letter Rather found on that 1967 typewriter that proved the cowboy dodged the war by flying airplanes that were never needed in Vietnam…praise Allah for typewriter technology. He still has it and could use it to bribe the cowboy into meeting you.
~O: Great goat-hair, Ayman! The letter was ruled a counterfeit and the cowboy was elected. Remember?
~M: Any other ideas…what about this Fonda woman? Would she look good in a chador?
~O: If you offer her a ride on a tank or maybe an imperial camel she might come, but she can’t help you…Allah be disappointed. You need to contact Cindy Sheehan. I’ve heard that the cowboy will do anything to keep her away from her ranch near Crawford, where she installs port-a-johns when the cowboy’s at home and invites everyone with at least seven tattoos and rings in noses, ears, navels, lips, tongues and…well…Allah be embarrassed…other places to come and demonstrate. Pay her enough to promise the cowboy she will stay away if he meets with you and…Allah be glorified for handing out a brain like mine…the deal might be done.
~M: A-A-R-R-G-G-H-H-H!!!! Thank you, Allah’s elect! I will find this woman and offer her all of the Sudan, with Somalia thrown in for good measure! Allah be placated! (exits the cave)
~A: Osama, do you believe he actually had a vision in his speech at the UN?
~O: I’ve heard that he took a deep swig of 100-proof fig-and-date wine before that speech, Ayman. Speaking of which, will you pass me a…