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The Death of Allah Jehovah Ábbás The world has now suffered a horrible loss with the death of dear Allah Jehovah Abbas. His outspoken atheist views were well known in the lands of the West, and his Mid Eastern home. His speeches drew curses from Hindus and Jews, and the Pope waxed indignant because of his views. But the Muslims of Pakistan, they were the ones with the drooling fanatics, with their bombs, knives and guns. So when Allah Jehovah walked up on the stage, in the back of the crowd, nearly boiling with rage, were the bearded jihadis, young Pakis with dreams of the dozens of virgins by heavens blue streams. So they watched and they waited while Allah spoke out, with a voice so compelling that it left not a doubt, that the world that we see was not made by a god -- there's no jinns and no angels, no cause for jihad. And the sullen young men saw the light, one by one, so they unstrapped their bombs and unloaded their guns, and ran weeping and sobbing to the foot of the stage, asking Allah Jehovah to forgive them their rage. And Allah Jehovah did warmly embrace The repentant jihaddis with a smile on his face And he said to them “You are forgiven, my sons, as you gave up your bombs and your knives and your guns.” Well, the crowd stood and cheered, there were hugs all around but the joy was short lived, as a horrible sound -- like a bubbling and slurping, and an ungodly smell seemed to rise from below, as if coming from hell! Then the ground shook and cracked, a red flow was released of tomato and meatball and hot bacon grease, and when noodley tentacles finally appeared the audience gasped – it was just as they feared! A monster of noodles and red sauce and meat had assembled itself, with the crowd at its “feet”. And it's noodly appendage grabbed Allah Abbas: it crushed him and shook him till his life spark was lost. And as quick as it came, it retuned to the earth leaving naught but a stench to attest to its birth. So the bright light of Allah Jehovah Abbas was rudely extinguished, and we mourn now his loss. There's a moral, my children, now, what have we learned? That no matter your station or position you've earned, or the fame you've acquired or the money you made, blaspheme against pasta, you'll not live out the day.
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