The coup d’eta

Adel Bishtawi has written a short story to express solidarity with Arab girls coming under a crushing pressure from the #ISIL and other #Islamisthooligans to cover everything except their right ears. It is in Arabic, obviously, but here is a snippet in English for taste:

The coup d’etat (snippets I & II )
Sana stopped his creeping hand under her bra, “Cease now! I read somewhere that a Muslim girl who loses her hymen before marriage is destined on Doomsday to have her middle finger stuck firmly in her right ear day and night.”
Ahmed was disappointed, “It seems to me that justice is found neither on Earth nor in Heaven. Why should a girl trying to please her boyfriend suffer punishment by forcing her to stick her finger in her ear? ”
Sana pushed back and looked at him intently, “Where do you want her to stick her finger?”
“Somewhere more suitable.”
She pouted, “Suggest to her another place; where? for example.”
Ahmed laughed. Sana poked his side, “Why are you laughing? If I were you I would be crying over the fate of all girls here and in Heaven. When they tell you in religious books that “most of them will be in hell” they mean girls – me, Dina, Reem, Susan, your sister Madiha, the neighbor’s daughter and this poor girl whose middle finger is stuck in her ear as she marches to hell.”
Ahmed reached to comfort her, “In hell? No way. My Sana will most definitely go to Heaven.”
Sana shrugged her shoulders, “So what? Heaven can go to hell,” she said. “Genetically re-engineered for permanent Viagra state, you Muslim boys are promised in Heaven all the girls you can manage. This means that we Muslim girls are screwed on Earth and screwed in Heaven with no questions asked and no answers given. I say, screw Heaven.”
Ahmed gasped, “How can you say that? If you are not with me in Heaven -”
Sana stopped him, “Shshsh! Sweetest, listen to me carefully. If they ask you in Heaven what girl does your heart desire tonight tell them ‘Sana and nobody else’. Don’t try to be clever and say Nathalie Emanuel or Emily Blunt or Imogen Poots. If you do that you will piss me off.”
“Sana and nobody else.”
Sana was relieved but only momentarily, “But promise,” she added hastily, “Not just for Saturday nights or Wednesday afternoons but every afternoon and every night. Can you promise me that before you bare my bosom again? ”
Sana fell silent suddenly. Ahmed peaked at her face in the shadows and felt she was worried, but he didn’t know why. Slowly, her worries parted a window in his mind and walked in.
The silence turned heavy and troubling.
The bench vibrated lightly and his nerves vibrated with it. Fearing she was crying, he raised her chin to look at her eyes. No tears. Her lower lip was being tickled gently by her upper teeth, but naughtily as well.
She raised her head then looked downwards inviting him to see. “I read in a medical book the title of which I can’t remember that girls with long hair can have orgasms lasting more than an hour,” she whispered, “True or false?”
Ahmed giggled in relief. “I’m the wrong person to ask. At times I hear you whimpering like a kitten on a cold tin roof after a very wet kiss, but only for a second or two. We can test the theory, if you’re ready. Start by clearing your throat.”
Sana threw her hand at her mouth in panic and sealed it, “No way lusty José; nothing is coming in tonight. Last time I puked for a week. I’m still searching for my stomach in the toilet.”
Ahmed shifted himself right, turned to her, crossed his legs and rested his chin on his frustrated fist. “OK, why don’t you tell me what’s going on in your mind,” he hissed in frustration.
“What do you mean? I’m just joking.”
He shook his head. “A while ago I thought you were crying. Now you’re trying to be funny but you don’t look happy.”
Sana breathed in deeply. “Confession coming your way, take cover,” she said fluttering her hands in his direction to move away. “I know we said all that we said minutes ago to cheer ourselves up because you’re leaving in the morning. I’m really grateful because you trust me so you didn’t find it necessary to bring me a chastity belt tonight. But, this talk about earth and heaven is actually worrying a bit. We Muslim girls are indeed expected to be screwed here on Earth, and when we go up, really up, we are expected to be screwed again. What’s in it for us? What we do here we have to do again, the next time indefinitely. It doesn’t make sense and it doesn’t sound fair, does it to you?”
Ahmed shrugged, “Life is not fair, nor is Heaven.”
“Da! What does that mean? Suppose somebody creeps into your bedroom at night and wakes you up unceremoniously, would you be happy with that?”
“Of course not, I’ll smash his nose. How dare he wakes me up?”
Sana breathed in relief. “Thank you. Now suppose somebody creeps into your bedroom at night, wakes you up unceremoniously and then screws you, wouldn’t you be upset?”
Ahmed: “استكÙال بيانات.”
Sana jumped up and clapped. “Exactly! That’s what I’d say. You see, I’m the only girl in the world who understands your gibberish when confusion is upon you, so you should stick with me if only for free translation. But really, what I’m saying is the truth. Ask my mum if you don’t believe me, or yours. Millions and millions of poor Muslim girls all over the world are shaken out of their deep sleep every night with a 13-stone mass over their squeezed lungs intent come what may, but mostly come than may, on taking their deep temperature with an unsympathetic maxi size thermometer? Now, is this fair?”
Ahmed: “اØer³ØªÙƒtا٠بيانات.”
“Exactly,” Sana said approvingly. “That’s exactly how I’d react. I know it’s only until you have your way with me, but thanks all the same for listening to me.”
Ahmed felt things are getting too serious. “Take it easy. I’m not like that.”
“I know, I know, hun bun, but I still think the deal for us Muslim girls is not fair. After all, millions of Muslim women give the Almighty millions of Muslim babies every year to eventually be his servants. Every single day, and maybe every single hour, hundreds of millions of Muslim wives drive hundreds of millions of Muslim husbands to millions of mosques all over the world to pray to the Almighty in utter desperation. What more can He ask of us, Muslim girls and women?”
Ahmed: “Øtr§Ø³uتكاÙf erبياناØ.”
“Exactly. He can’t be fair to us on Earth so He has to be fair to us, Muslim girls and women naughty or not, in Heaven. We are only asking Him for a fair deal. If he gives us 10% of the deal He gives Christian girls half of us will be dancing naked in the bathrooms for weeks and the other half clapping. Sometimes I feel God hails Muslims but he really likes the Christians. It’s simply unacceptable.”
Like all Muslim men, Ahmed scratched his head hard and long to invite his mind to think.  The scratching worked. “So what do you consider a fair deal?”
Unlike all other Muslim girls and women, Sana found it important for once in her life to weigh her words. She pouted, changed her mind and flagged her head, squeezed her lip and did several other things. It worked. “A reset would be fine, I think.”
Ahmed opened his hands questioningly, “Reset was created by God specifically for Windows because he knew it will give all its users troubles; a reset for what?”
Sana pointed at herself, “On Earth I’m Sana and you are Ahmed. We can’t change that. However, up there, in Heaven, the situation should be reversed. You’ll be Sana and I’ll be Ahmed. What do you think?”
Ahmed: “استكÙet بيuانات “استكمال بي انات اسØer¨ÙŠØ?//f§Ù†Ø§Øª. اqØir³ØªÙƒÙ…ال بيانات??!!!.”
Having muttered his illegible words in perfect confusion, Ahmed became visibly uncomfortable. Fearing he may fly away in panic any second, she moved closer to him and held his arm firmly. “Darling, hun bun,” she said, grabbing the other arm even more firmly, “Not in your wildest nightmares would you believe what I’ll do to you. You may want to read Malleus Maleficarum for a small idea. Forget about walking. If you try you could be walking like a vastly parted math compass and you’ll look really silly. More plausibly you won’t have the legs to support you. And your nipples, Oh my God! Your nipples will glow like the bars of electric heaters. The sky, this huge sky, will be my face, for months on end you’ll see nothing else but my face. This mouth you kiss tenderly on Earth will be something totally else in Heaven. Like the mouths of Pakistan ovens of flat bread, streams of burning desire will toast your cheeks like French baguettes. You’ll get so used to me on top of you, in the five seconds a day when I’m not you may feel shortage of breath.”
Sana breathed so deeply Ahmed was about to start worrying for his personal safety, which he did when she breathed out in biblical-Islamic-size relief.
“Oh! Ahmed! Aaaahhhh, hun bun, Aaaaahhhh, I feel good, really, really, good and satisfied and really, really, really, really wet. As I have long hair, this must be the more than hour-long orgasm I read about proven by me, Sana the Muslim girl, with not a touch by a petrified-looking Muslim boy shaking violently next to me.”

Caption: Now that Sana and Ahmed have swapped sex in Heaven, Sana now is in the middle while Ahmed is to her right pleading for mercy. To the left is Nathalie Emanuel unsure how to react to the swap.

Caption: Originally it was “Ahmed in heaven with NathalieEmanuel and EmilyBlunt“. However, later Sana and Ahmed have swapped sex in Heaven, Sana now is in the middle while Ahmed is to her right pleading for mercy. To the left is Nathalie Emanuel unsure how to react to the swap.

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