The Triumph of Islam

The year was 2060. It was a great year. The last infidel had been killed; the last 9 year old girl had been raped and made to prostrate herself before Allah; the last rebellious 6 year old boy thrown off a thousand foot cliff; the last gay man beheaded. The great Islamic Caliphate circled the globe. All modern technological achievements were made useless; equipment broke down and no one knew, or cared, how to fix it; farms stopped producing; food shortages were everywhere. But Islam was triumphant.

In America, in the ruins of the White House, several black-bearded Islamic imams stood in the now half oval office and discussed their victory. One said, “What do we do now?” Another replied, “We go out and see who is not following the Koran one hundred percent and we kill him.” “Yes,” cried the third man, “There will always be slackers, always someone to kill!” And they went out shouting “Allah Akbar!” and waving their machetes.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The year was 2070. The triumph of Islam continued in glory. No one was happy (thank Allah!)and most people were starving, but not to worry—there were not too many people left. In fact, in America there were only two groups of one hundred men and women each.

One of the leaders of one group said, while sharing with another a dried-up biscuit, “What do we do now?” The other said, “Those others aren’t as miserable as we are; therefore, they have betrayed Islam; they are infidels. We must kill them!”

After two weeks of insane slaughter on both sides one man was left alive. He thought to himself, “Allah is great. I am the caliphate!” After a few minutes he thought again, “What do I do now?” He looked around and saw a tall, 6-foot high rose bush standing by itself, with red, white and blue roses just beginning to blossom. IN a maniacal rage he leapt forth with his machete, shouting “Allah Akbar!” and proceeded to hack and hack and hack at the base of the rose-bush, until it toppled over on him, two long thorns piercing into his eyes. Then he rolled over and over in the muddy ground like a squealing pig, and that was the final triumph of Islam.

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