The Suicide Bomber

[billthebutcher]

Warning: Adult-themed...of sorts.

Sometimes people do get their just and promised rewards.


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Ali floated up to Paradise.

He floated gently as a cloud, in a bubble of the clearest crystal, listening to celestial music playing. For someone who’d just exploded a car bomb, he was in pretty good shape, and still had all his faculties. As for the devastated marketplace, blood and mangled flesh scattered everywhere, he’d left behind him, he didn’t think of it twice. A martyr had to do what a martyr had to do.

The skies of Paradise were the deepest, clearest blue imaginable; the streams tumbled down fern-clad rocks in delightful little waterfalls, and trees hung their perfumed flowers and succulent fruit low over the lush green grass.

A vision of delight waited for Ali, a woman so incredibly lovely that the breath would have caught in his throat had he still been alive and breathing. Her only clothing was her long, silky hair, which alternately hid and revealed the perfection of her nakedness; and her eyes shone with love for Ali and the desire to please.

“Lord,” she said humbly, “Welcome to Jannat.” She took him by the arm and led him through the wonderful garden of delights, feeding him the celestial fruit with her own hands, till she reached a marble palace set on the banks of a perfect little lake in which swam fishes and water birds unknown to mortal man. “I am one of the houris who will serve you for eternity, Lord,” said the woman. “And, behold, here, in your palace, are the others.”

And there, in a lotus-decorated pool set in an open pavilion of the marble palace, Ali saw other women, each as lovely and as voluptuously nude as his companion, and with the same light of love in their eyes. Since he had always been good at mental arithmetic, he added quickly. Yes, counting his guide and companion, there were seventy-two altogether. They crowded round him, touched him and kissed him, and murmured words of tender adoration.

“My Lord,” said the first houri, the one who had met him, her eyes wet with lust, “it would be my profoundest pleasure and greatest honour if you would deflower me now and embark on the eternity of ecstasy your martyrdom has gained you.” Tenderly, she began removing his charred clothes, running her butter-soft hands up his rock-hard, toned muscles and kissing him with rising passion. Ali, his own passion growing, kissed her back hard, running his hands over her firm breasts and smooth body, all the way down to the valley of delight between her thighs, and heard her gasp with arousal.

“Take me, Lord, take me,” she said, unbuckling his belt and pulling down his pants. “I cannot wait,” she moaned, reaching between his legs. Then she suddenly stepped back, a look of consternation in her eyes. “Lord, what is wrong?”

“Wrong?” Uncomprehending, Ali looked down at himself, and then he screamed.

“My dick!” he shrieked. “The fucking bomb blew off my dick!”

It must have been his imagination that he heard someone cackling.


(Note to reader: Yes, I'm full of sick, twisted humour. I know.)

[karlsie]

Ah, but this was great! I needed a morning chuckle. You put this in the theater, which is unfortunate, because i don't believe we have seventy-two houri to play the roles. But maybe we can hire one to play all 72 roles since the houri only seem to have a bit part.

[GoblinQueen]

*Terrorist blows up subversify forum*

lol

[Feud]

I came to the party somewhat late on this one, but enjoyed it none the less. Needless to say, yet another example of religion's ability to drug the weak-minded with false promises of a blissfull afterlife ...

"With guys, they get 72 virgins when they die. But what do the women get? Seventy-two guys willing to discuss relationships and look through the J. Crew catalogue with you?" —Colin Quinn

"My only hope is when those terrorists get to heaven, they meet up with the kind of virgins we had in Catholic school: Sister Mike Ditka from Our Mother of Eternal Retribution." —Robin Williams

"Scientists in the United States Army have developed sandwiches that remain edible for three years. That's worth fighting for, now isn't it? The jihad is offering their guys 72 virgins, we give three-year-old sandwiches." —Jay Leno

[GoblinQueen]

I don't agree with the first joke, I'd want my 72 virgins... mostly looking like johnny depp please I laughed out loud at the second one though hehe I also don't think it is necessarily weak minded to want to believe in something bigger then yourself. I do think it weak minded when it makes you go against natural human emotions, such as self preservation.

[dylan]

Seventy-two virgins are difficult to mount and will make you sore for days. I say, give me the easy riders and a mountain of T-Bone steaks. Now that's dog heaven.

[Feud]

My cameras, a mountain log cabin, an unending supply of paper (beer, coffee), no ringing phone, no fuckwits asking me to undertake stupid, pointless, repetitive, mind-numbing, soon-forgotten activities ever again, and enough sleep to re-fuel my exhausted imagination and shriveled spirit. That's my nirvana. Sorry, that's Buddhism, or Jainism, or one of the slightly more sensible isms. You get my drift.

[Thomas Littlechief]

There is a story line developing in theatre and a deep need for other insights. Would you consider looking to develop a nation, or even a charactor, in it?

Just curious.

[karlsie]

Bill, i think your input into the story line for our sci-fi would be a good one. We have, right now, a fifty years into the future, woman president who represents India and China; consequently; the majority opinion of the global democratic congress. By inventing a character or characters in keeping with the general plot line, but with their own points of views and stories, i think we would have a more fair representation of the countries involved in our global story. Don't worry about the eventual outcome. The story does have an ending, which i wish to keep a surprise until the grand finale. If the manuscript turns into a long one because of the number of stories within stories, it can always be broken into a suspenseful series. The idea i'm encompassing is highly radical for the presentation of a sci-fi anthology, but that's what Subversify is all about; the radical, the different, the experimental.

[billthebutcher]

OK, Karlsie. I'm in any case not doing much right now, so point me in that direction.

[karlsie]

Bill, the sci fi script is a bit of a spare time endeavor; one that we started in the interactive public theater than moved to the non-public workshop when we begin changing our dialog into script. Read Mitchell Warren's new room instructions for an idea of how the theater works, then you'll be able to follow the initial dialog better. The opening to the script begins with "the council", then moves into "the border skirmish", then "the Atlantic Investigation". These three dialogs open the scene, provide the background and introduce some of the initial characters. We had been working in chronological order, but feel it isn't really necessary for the stories within the main story; only for the meetings of council members. This keeps tags and controls on the direction of the story, which is a modern day mouse that roared with a secret ending. Sorry, i won't give away the grand finale. You can use any of the technology introduced in the story and add more as it occurs to you, as long as it stays within the probable factors of our fifty years into the future scenario. You may set up a dialog in the theater so as to get a feel for your own and for the other characters. You may interact with the other characters already presented, but you cannot manipulate them. You may not put words into Beverley Sturm's mouth, you can't shoot Tobias, if you even want to sit down and have a cup of coffee with one of the characters already presented, you must go through all the normal rules of interacting with someone who is not "you" i.e., one of your own characters.

You can create as many characters as you like. You may direct dialog at any of the characters already written in, even those written into the drafts in the workshop. You may set up any new scene, even if it jumps out of chronological sequence, as long as it pertains to the overall story. You do not have to create a council member. Your character(s) can be a businessman, a public servant, a media lord or anything that occurs to you. Your stories can be isolated; never meeting any of the council members at all, but affected by the decision making process and full of their own opinions on the global council.

Your characters can be of any nationality, although we'd really like to see some members take up Western Europe, Australia, or South America as we don't presently have a representation. We're also waiting for Tony to give Canada a voice, hee hee. The story is still in the draft stages, and the first five chapters will probably be changed several times before we're satisfied, as initial chapters usually are, but i think if you read what we've put together so far, you'll have some ideas of where we're going with it. Just use your imagination and take a walk into a possible future.