Allow me to introduce myself. I realize that most Westerners have trouble remembering more than two or three Arabic sounding names at any given time. Here is a secret for you to take with you to your grave. We can't remember the accursed names either. That is why we all use Abu for a first name.
Now when I appear, at the time you least suspect it, wishing nothing more than to remove your head from your shoulders, at least you can address me properly. 'Please, Abu, show an infidel a little mercy'. And then I will say 'Abu, what'?
While I extricate your liver I will laugh in the most lurid and depraved manner possible, hissing 'Abu Ayyub al-Masri' in breath scented by garlic and cloves.
If you wish to know, it is pronounced Abe, much like your revered 'Honest Abe'. In truth, he was not. Now you will regret the time you wasted watching 'So You Think You Can Dance' instead of lobbying your foolish Western cable companies into carrying Al-Jazeera International on their broadcasting menu. Two hundred channels and nothing to which I can relate to.
I say unto you, this is ludicrous. Three food channels and no room for Al-Jazeera International? My brother Abu, who sleeps in a cell in Seattle, has told me that he once attempted to flip through all of the channels on his DirecTV, but lost control of his flipping finger before even reaching HBO 2. It is good that I come to disembowel you at a time and place of my own choosing.
I know that if the piteous giant that is your foul government were to have Al-Jazeera International, you would surely know the name of Abu Ayyub al-Masri as well as you know the name of your mother the whore. As it is, my sister Abu (who lives undetected in a Saudi enclave outside of the greater Detroit metropolitan area), tells me that the decadent Western spell checker of her word processing program flags Ayyub al-Masri as an error, although it does at least recognize Abu, praise Allah.
I know with certainty that it is your foolish lack of Al-Jazeera International which accounts for your lack of fear of the mighty Abu Ayyub al-Masri, Slayer of Infidels, and for your shortsighted government's placement of a paltry five million dollar bounty on my noble head.
What, Abu Musab al-Zarqawi is supposed to be five times more valuable than me? I assure you, I am easily twice as fearsome as Zarqawi was, but you would never know that by watching the sort of crap that is spewed daily from American television.
Bah. I shall spare your life because your existence is totally without meaning to me. That, and the fact that I do not have sufficient carfare to depart from the scene of your demise. Damn your infidel cable companies.
©2006, Mark Hoback