Thursday, January 12, 2006
Allah Oop Hammond Organi, Jr. had always wanted to perform a courageous act in the name Allah. He envied those who went before him. He wanted to shake their hands and get their autographs, for surely they would be collectors items someday. He might even be able to sell them on e-Bay and earn enough to buy himself a camel or two, and if there was enough left over he could get a pair of those new designer sandals.
He was inspired by his recent hadj to the sacred Mecca Records. For two torturous weeks he had ridden his camel through the desert. While eating sand and muching on Matzo balls he had experienced an epiphany. The next time he went on one of these trips, he was going to lease a camel with two humps. He could not count how many times he'd fallen off his ride trying to stay balanced on the one hump.
He didn't care what they said about the traditional clothing worn by all his Arab brethern, he was freakin' sweltering out there in that hot sun. The useless rag he was supposed to wear upon his head only made his head sweat all the more. So it was that on his second day out, he changed into his Tommy Hilfinger knock-off jeans and his prized Beavis & Butthead tee shirt. His iPod was loaded with the greatest hits of his favorite Arab music, The Very Best of Sam the Sham & the Pharaohs . He also had the inspiring Ahab the Arab and Mr. Sandman to sing along with on his portable Karaoke machine.
The practice of gathering camel dung and letting it dry for use as fuel during the cold desert nights seemed like a shitty practice for Allah Oop. He had observed his father spending a half hour trying to light the camel flapjacks on many an occasion. He was appalled listening to his father use such cuss words as Bush, Clinton and Sara Lee when the shit cakes failed to ignite. He was glad he had ordered a Zippo lighter from Wal-Mart. Of course, one had to always sit up wind from those hadj cakes. One day he discovered that he could toss them like a frisbee, just like the ruling sect, The Rednecks in America did with cattle dung.
With practice he soon became quite accurate hurling his camel discs. One day, when he came upon two vultures feasting upon another less fortunate pilgrim who was wearing regular Arab clothing, he hurled one of the dung discs and took out two of the scavengers. It wasn't quite KFC, but then again, it wasn't Kansas either.
He was nearing sleep one night while reading the back of his Corn Flakes box when he began to wonder if his father had given him the right advice. Before he had set out on his hadj, the old man had told him to remember to read every night and at every prayer break. His father spoke so fast that half the time, he could not understand the jibberish the old man was slinging. Every one of his friends were reading the Koran. Why did his father tell him to read a Corn Flakes box?
He never did find his Mecca, but to save face he did like any normal young Arab, he made love to his camel and declared himself enlightened. He later discovered that Mecca Records had moved to Baghdad, where Saddam Husein had promptly converted it to a brothel. He vowed that if he ever went out on another hadj, that was where he would go, for now Meca would truely be rewarding.
Years later, he would migrate to the United States and settle in Shebogan. He would gain fame as a Scrabble champion due to his extensive knowledge of the game's acceptable Arabic words, like Haj, Hajj, Hadj, Hadji, Hajji, Jihad, mullah, and fatwa to name a few. Eventually he had to change his name. It seems that a certain camel had filed a paternity suit against him. It is rumored that he is now a millionaire after buying several gas stations and twenty Seven-Eleven convenience stores.
(Disclaimer: If you are an FBI, CIA, or NSA operative reading this blog, calm down and don't get your panties in a knot! This post is no threat to National Security. It is a parody, it is satire, and it is intended to be funny. Your search of key words like Hadj and Jihad brought you here to this site of superior comedic writing. Think of it, all I am trying to do is to increase my readership. Guess what oh secretive covert ones, it worked!)
Curmudgeon responsible for this post: Hale McKay at 12:30 AM