First militant: Second militant: Third militant: Fourth militant: Fifth militant: Sixth militant: Seventh militant: “…uh, little help?”*

First militant: “I don’t mean to sound pessimistic, Bakr, but I was under the impression that our righteous resistance would lead to a weakening of the Great Satan’s will.  If anything, we seem to be making them angrier and more determined to crush us under their filthy, infidel boots.”* Second militant:”A mirage, Ibrahim.  The paper tigers are lashing out against us now precisely because their ill-considered offensive is in its

First militant: “Remind me again how dressing as women makes us brave, Sulaymaan?”* Second militant: “Because, my brother, dressing as women is but a means to an end.  Surrounded by the Great Satan’s heavily armed paper tigers, the cagey Islamic warrior improvises to make his escape so that he can return another day to slaugher the infidel occupiers.  And when he does return, he does so gloriously, in full beard,

First militant: “May I speak frankly with you, Jibril?” Second militant: “Of course you may, brother.” First militant: “It concerns the infidels.  Certainly we are the stronger warriors—menacing, steel-fanged lions to their paper tigers (Allah be merciful)—but that aside, they are killing us in far greater numbers.  Yet their countrymen feel that they are losing the war and must retreat.  Is this some devious subterfuge, friend?” Second militant: “Ah, but

First militant:  “You know, Qasim, I’m really beginning to like this Cindy Sheehan infidel.  Unusual to find an uncovered cur so willing to sing the heavenly music of Truth.”* Second militant: “I agree, brother.  When we conquer the Great Satan and take his land by force of fiery sword, we shall have to remember to slit her throat last.”* First militant:  “Exactly.  Allah be praised.” Second militant: “Allah be praised.”

First militant: “Do you feel that, Azhar?  That sense of foreboding that hangs like a ripe fig over the city?” Second militant: “You worry too much, Qasim.  The paper tigers of the Great Satan fear the holy warriors of Allah too much to venture close enough to do us harm.  We are safe here, my brother—believe me.  Now, let us put concern out of our minds and build the IEDs

First militant:  “Ever watch ‘H.R. Pufnstuff,’ Marwan?  Some pretty trippy shit happening on that show, brother—talking flutes, magic mushrooms, polka-dotted horses… Not to mention Pufnstuff himself.  I mean, what is he, anyway— how did he come to power, what’s his beef with the witch, what does he do for sexual companionship…?  These questions plague me, friend…” Second militant:  First militant:  Second militant: First militant:  “Say, do we have any Doritos?”

First militant:  “Have you seen Team America:  World Police yet?” Second militant:  “No.  Any good?” First militant:  “American puppets defeat terrorism and save the world.” Second militant: “Feh.  If I wanted to see that I could just look out the freakin’ window, Allah be praised…”

First militant:  “You have heard the rumors, have you not, Kalil?—that Abu has been seriously wounded and is soon to meet Allah, peace be upon him…?”* Second militant:  “This I have heard, my brother.  But fear not.  I have it on good authority that these rumors are but a ruse—a story created by Abu himself to raise the spirits of the infidels so that when he suddenly resurfaces, his sword

First militant: “About yesterday, Wahid…”* Second militant: “Please.  I feel enough shame already –” First militant: “– No, please.  Allow me to say my piece.  Because after sleeping on it I have decided I agree with you.  Life is so short, we should try to experience all of the pleasures Allah’s mercy makes possible—gustatory, spiritual, carnal… Second militant: “…So then you’re saying you agree with me about the anal beads?”