Interviewing the Enemy

I really want you to know that this interview did not come easily. I assume that many of you will read it and be disgusted that I entertained the man in conversation, much less did nothing to kill him.

You are right to think that way. All I can say is that I had to weigh my odds of successfully killing him and my duty as a journalist.

I will be forever changed by the experience but I will comfortably live with the choice I made. The world needs to read this interview. Comment on my blog.

Osama Bin Laden had me picked up at the airstrip. I was driven to his home, somewhere in western Kentucky, in a purple and gold stretch limo. I was happily surprised when the driver did not place a gag in my mouth after binding and blindfolding me. Riding in the trunk was actually my idea. Have you ever smelled these guys?

We drove for at least 90 minutes. When I was finally able to open the trunk lid there was no one around. The car, still running, was parked in a large bush bordering the back parking lot of an A&W Root Beer Factory. I cut myself through the foliage and stumbled into the factory. The creak of the door snapped the towels of about thirty guys with AK-47’s. Osama and Hakim Aal Aklam (Osama’s press secretary who initially contacted me about the interview) never lost focus of their intense debate. I had no idea what they were saying, of course, but it was a heated disagreement none the less.

Twenty-five minutes later, suddenly, Osama addressed me.

O: What’s your name? You look Jewish.

Seth Millican

O: That’s a Heeb name if I ever heard one. You some kind of Scottish Kike?

No, not at all. Well, it is, I mean commonly, the name that is, Seth is from the Old Testament. But, I am not Jewish.

I am just American.

(coughs and clearing throats)

O: Kill him…

O: I am just yanking your chain. Did you wet yourself? Holy shit man, I was just fucking with you. Anyway, listen, you can help us settle a little bet, Mr. American.

OK

O: You know those little burgers you get at White Castle?

I am familiar

O: What are those called?

Sliders

O: Not, chasers? You are sure?

HAA: Hee!! I knew it.

O: Chasers: are they not also called chasers?

Well, they call them sliders at White Castle. I know that much for sure.

HAA: You have your answer sir. He said sliders because that is what they are called. I believe you owe me an iphone.

O: You shall have your iphone Hakim, you shall. But watch your prideful tongue, especially in mixed company.

HAA: Yes sir. I apologize.

(Hakim promptly left the factory and, presumably, headed to one of the rape rooms scattered throughout the Lexington area.)

O: Ok, McJew, you have ten minutes. What do you want to know?

Why are you in America? How are you in America?

O: Are you going to throw me out? Can you?

You are not answering my question

O: But that is precisely what I did. I am here because I can be; I want to be here because I can be. I am the angst ridden rebel and America is my school cafeteria.

Are you planning an attack?

O: What if I told you I was? Would you wet yourself again? You stink by the way. I thought you were going to clean yourself off.

The towels your guys gave me were covered with blood.

O: Hmmnn. Figured you would be ok with that, what with all your big time action movies.

Are you planning an attack?

O: You are so two-dimensional. Will there be an attack? Where will the attack be? When will the attack happen? You are still living in a World Trade Center world. You think of attacks as buildings and bombs. But, so does the rest of America. Which is why I am able to tell you all this.

What are you telling me?

O: I could tell you everything and it wouldn’t matter at all. I could cum-tape a complete breakdown of the attack to Katie Couric’s left ass cheek and it wouldn’t mean shit. We are past you now. Forget the bomb in the briefcase bit. That was so last decade. We won’t blow up an airplane because we will own every single airplane in every single airport in every single city in this country. You are worried about an attack but we are going to own your heart and soul. The best part: you are going to beg us to do it.

You won’t own anything in America. Americans wouldn’t give you a penny.

O: (Laughter) Yeah, Yeah, Yeah. Ok, you are right in that my name won’t be on the signs, but money is money baby and power is power. I remember when I first saw Barack Obama. By the way, no, I cannot believe his name either. What a crazy coincidence. He was giving his speech at the ’04 convention and Karl Rove turned to me and said, “Holy shit, we just found our Buckwheat.”

Hold on, I refuse to believe this. Obama is not in league with you. I refuse to believe that you contacted Obama.

O: Right again Sparky. But, let me ask you this: What will America do if there is another attack, a bad one, under this liberal president?

…

O: I’ll tell you what. They are going to riot in the streets. They are going to demand the old regime. They are going to amend the constitution. They will not rest until George W. Bush is made King and the whole country can snuggle their whoppers and feel safe again. King!!

Osama threw his head back in laughter and I blacked out after being hit in the head with the butt of an AK-47.