Skip to comments.Improving the story
Posted on 08/06/2006 1:10:20 PM PDT by pickrell
Reuters News Agency, reeling from accusations of distortion, deceit and fraud, have decided to go the distance in order to repair their tattered image. "We're coming clean today," spokesman Justin Case explained to his lunch guests, "by re-opening the files on stories long suppressed by our firm. This will aid in the restoration of balance in our reporting, as perceived by our readers."
One of the first stories to be covered by their newly hired replacement photographer, is that of the splinter group, Hersbollah. "It is a myth that women are treated like dogs under Islam," Hersbollah strike commander Latcha Bovina explained. "Our dogs don't get their bowls cleaned regularly, like we do.
"We have sworn to protect our rights to be owned and stoned, brokered and burka'd. The only time we get to dance is at Death-to-America rallies, so we really make the most of it, let our hair down, splice the main tent brace, three sheets to the sandstorm, that sort of thing. Under the veil of course; after all- we're not suicidal. Well, then again- we are suicidal, actually, but only when we can take others with us.
"Well, maybe not actually take them with us, since only the good ones go to heaven and the evil ones go straight to hell. And since we know where we are going, we therefore know where they are going...
"The reason we know where we are going was that a few of us were kind of troubled by the whole 72 virgins thing, a while back, until it was carefully explained to us. You see, just as we are segregated from men so as not to contaminate them here on earth... that is until that time at night when they demand contamination, and it is our lot in life to provide it... except, of course, on headache and beatings night, or on Thursdays- that's when "Friends" is on Al Jazeera.
"Well, anyhoo, so too is heaven segregated into women's heaven... and men's heaven. And the two never interact."
The Reuters photographer, having trouble with his Cuban-made camera with the pinhole lens, seemed puzzled, "But we understood that when your men go to heaven, they are rewarded with 72 virgins? How then-"
"Well," Bovina answered, "You see that innocent young man over there in the men's martyrs tent, being fitted with the body bomb, and carrying the terrorist I.D. card numbered 72? He completes this latest group... It seems that Achmed "The Scarred Camel" Rashid died a few days ago, and is getting impatient," her eyes flicked upwards, "You know, - up there..."
Across the way, the young bomb transporter heard, and his eyes attempted to flee from his head, "WHAT? WHAT?" The scream echoed across the camp.
A clout across the head from his trainer returned him to docility... and semi-consciousness.
"Well," the photographer gave up and tossed the camera into a nearby pile of animal droppings. "I still have my lap top. I'll whip something up anyway, if you don't mind your picture bearing an eerie similarity to that of Madeleine Albright. So," he asked brightly, "what reward to you women get?"
"Well, you know how we have our heaven... and Achmed "The Scarred Camel" Rashid and his gender have theirs?"
"You mean you still have a question?"
Funny satire, p.
:) good stuff Ron Pickrell. Thanks for the break, you work, your service.
Personally, I like the crook-necked yellow squash, sliced, dipped in flour, and then fried medium slowly in margarine, beside sliced, green tomatoes, also floured, in the same skillet. A bite of each simultaneously on the same fork. Better than virgins...
My wife maintains that men can't do anything right... until she's tasting my latest cooking. Until she walks in the tattletale kitchen, that is-
"What happened in here??? I go to Bingo and come back to this???"
"Well, I was, uh, cooking, and...and-"
"There are Crisco fingerprints all over the cabinets!!!"
"Well, yeah, I was gonna clean that up, but then there was an old 'Columbo' on that I've never seen, and...and-"
"YOU"VE GOTTEN FLOUR INTO THE CLOCK!"
"Well, maybe I held the cannister up a little too high when I poured it into the cup..."
"IT"S A SEALED CLOCK, PICKRELL. The hands have white sweaters on now...like a bloody vacation advertising poster for an Alpine retreat!"
"Well, it kinda poofed around when it hit the cup-"
"Look, I'll clean it all up. Okay? Purple is not your color in the face department. Here, have a green tomato... OWWW! That hurt, you know! Now I'll have a green stain on my face, at work tomorrow.... Aren't you glad I saved you the effort of making dinner? Uh ohhh. She's miffed."
Gotta go figure out what takes margarine off of the ceiling.
"Better than virgins..."
Mmmmmmmmmmmm, drooling all over the darned place, right now, p.
Getting dressed, looking for Jeep keys, headed out to the Giant supermarket, get margarine, get crook-necked yellow squash, get green tomatoes, save p's post as text, search foodtv.com's site for a more complete recipe, save it too, get double-zero and ap flour.
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