On the night before Muhammadmas{3}, Amerikans learned that Lord FreeLuv had been kidnapped by the evil Obsama Baroken Ladder. Tens of millions of homosexuals died of jealousy, and no one volunteered to rescue him, no one except the fearless Bunnies—a team of highly-trained terrestrial management experts who were more feared than even the Seals. When they learned of the lord’s kidnapping, they invited Oldsamba to discuss the lord’s release over lunch. Obasamama politely texted, “Sorry, the lord and I are busy building the most loving foreign relationship the world has ever seen!”
The Bunnies could not tolerate such injustice and quickly hired renowned adventurist, Professor MB Zacharin. He was very optimistic. He insisted that the rescue operation could be done with everyone seated in a vehicle, possibly a bus. The Bunnies were open-minded, but all they could only afford was a crappy Chinese solar-biofuel-powered Tornado, a biodegradable submarine named the Minnow, or an organic minibus. On Zach’s advice, the girls attempted to purchase the minibus, but the damn salesperson rejected their money! Zacharin was offended.
“Excuse me!” he began, “but our money is legal tender Amerikan luv! It’s accepted around the world!”
“Not here it ain’t. Your luv terrifies me. It’s completely unacceptable.”
Zach called LEO (the Luv Enforcement Organism). They attempted to reason with the dealership staff. They even demonstrated their own luv powers. But the staff resisted, so after a short tussle, the dealership staff was arrested and sentenced to life in Mexico. Meanwhile, Zach and the Bunnies borrowed an organic recreational vehicle with all the bells and whistles including air, water, food and beds.
Now Zach and the Bunnies could begin their search for Lord FreeLuv, but they didn’t. The females decided a preparatory shopping trip was in order, so they drove to New Eden{4}, the most amazing shopping center on Earth. Its boutiques are heavenly. Absolutely amazing. Luckily, even though Lord FreeLuv wasn’t dying any time soon, even women eventually grow sick of shopping. So, after a few weeks, the Bunnies started to feel lonely, bored, dissatisfied and irritable, for somehow they just could not find their way out of their favorite mega-mall.
God took pity on Zach and said unto him, “The only way to get them back on track is to refresh their memory of Lord FreeLuv. Give them battery-powered replicas. You can find them on sale at the nearest love shop. You’re in one right now.”
Zach laughed at his luck. A variety of dildos shaped like Amerika’s legendary heroes were available, but he insisted on a dozen FreeLuv models.
“That useless bum?” asked the clerk. “Haven’t you heard the news? FreeLuv betrayed Amerika and is only interested in his own welfare. Nowadays he spends all his time with foreigners. Says Amerika is a circus of psychopaths!”
Zacharin and the Bunnies didn’t believe a word of it. They loved Lord FreeLuv. The clerk, not understanding their feelings, said, “Well, Amerikan heroes come and go. Before FreeLuv, there was Luke Soilwalker and George Washtub, and who remembers them now? So stop worrying. Tomorrow, you’ll be happy with someone else. Look, have you ever seen Moolah Bro Z?” he asked, showing them a sexy replica of their leader. Then, with evil twinkle in his eyes, the clerk added, “He vibrates when you call him, and he puts out when you squeeze him.”
The Bunnies felt sick and bought several biodegradable FreeLuv dildos instead. Soon afterwards, they were a wee bit disappointed. You see, no matter how lovingly they caressed or squeezed their rubbery replicas, their little lords wouldn’t give them any luv. So, they lost patience and buried all their FreeLuv dildos. Well, that was too bad. I think they should have bought some batteries before acting so hastily.
Now the Bunnies were broke. Plenty of people offered to feed and shelter them, but they had pride, so they went digging for gold in Yellowstone National Park. If they had spent more time in school, they would have known that Lord FreeLuv was not buried in Yellowstone but was doing God’s work abroad, pushing the credit cards of God’s luv on the poor and converting millions to the Amerikan way. But, the lord refused to give a luv credit card to Olmambasa, who loudly protested the injustice. In his defense, the lord whispered this rarely shared secret to the irate savage, “Trust me, credit cards are the keys to Hell.”
“You big fat liar!” cried Obslama.
“All credit cards are from the Devil,” the lord warned.
“I’m scared.”
“Well, I admire your courage, but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” said the lord, as he handed over two negative-interest-rate credit cards. “What do you plan to buy with them? Guns and bombs?”
“Electric dildos, actually,” said smileless Osama. “And I’ll mail them to every Amerikan woman.”
“Why?”
“This cunning technology will make the Amerikan penis obsolete!” he explained and laughed like a hyena. “Now every Amerikan woman can enjoy freedom from Amerikan dicks and freedom from Amerikan babies!”
“Damn! You evil mastermind—you’re going to destroy Amerika!”
“Hey, do these credit cards have spending limits?”
“Baba Orbalba, Amerika’s luv for you will always be unconditional and infinite. We love our enemies … it’s our religion.”
Osama laughed and threw the lord overboard. Days later, by God’s grace, the lord’s body was found in the Gulf, floating and still breathing.
When the news spread that Osama had killed Lord FreeLuv, Zach and the Bunnies cried until they realized it made no damn difference. So, they went to the White House for an explanation. Upon their arrival, they were bedazzled by the sumptuous art of the White House and were privileged to receive a free tour from White House art historian Mr Charles Oxenbull.
First, Mr Oxenbull led his guests into the Art Wing to view a painting by former President Washington: “The White Natives Revolution.” This painting proved that Washington was God incarnate and that he fought not against fellow whites, or angels, but against an invading force of Chinese, Indian, Arab, Sikh, Jewish and other greedy monsters whose evil religions command them to devour everything on Earth.
The next masterpiece was President Jackson’s masterpiece portraying his favorite philosophers, Plato and Aristotle, sporting crowns and halos and armed with silver crosses that doubled as swords. With these weapons, they joined General Jackson in a battle against Wounded Knee, a hostile heathen and a terrible liar who refused to kneel before God. After they captured Wounded Knee by peacefully flashing their swords, they then converted the heathen to the civilized Amerikan way and taught him to read Amerika’s best sellers: Plato and Aristotle’s amazing Christian treatises and dialogues.
A third masterpiece, “The Class War,” painted directly on the outer walls, was by President Domenic Lincoln, the great Italian president born in Troy. He famously conquered Greece and Spain and replaced classical slavery with the far more profitable and acceptable form of exploitation known as modern slavery or Amerikan-style slavery.
Next was a beautiful painting by President Columbus. The top left portrayed the first Amerikans escaping from Europe’s witches, gypsies, atheists and anti-social anarchists. They settled in the promised land of Amerika. However, their faith was weak, for when they arrived in Amerika, the native peoples easily enslaved them and corrupted them with witchcraft, herbal parties, wild sex and death worship. In the bottom right corner of this masterpiece stood President Angel wearing a Jewish shawl and underwear as he prayed for Lord FreeLuv to come save Amerika.
President Abunksie’s “Triumph of Chuck” portrayed Chuck Bollocks dressed as the savior of the world and jumping off a cliff with thousands of faithful believers who wanted, like him, to go straight to Heaven rather than continue being broke, unemployed, unmarried and therefore useless.
President Bill Bush’s prophetic mural was “The Mass Execution of the Evil Artists and Authors.” It portrayed President Bush erasing Pablo Picasso, Herman Melville and many other artists who did nothing to promote God, work, religion and the Hollywood Bible.
The last painting was a triptych by President Walt “Angel” Disney was title “Life after Death.” It showed how the souls of good citizens and shoppers escaped from an awful world into a solar-powered Disneyworld where everyone is a flying mouse or a little bird.
Zach and the Bunnies were deeply impressed. The creativity and imagination of Amerika’s leaders astounded them. It was so fascinating that they nearly forgot about Lord FreeLuv and only remembered, as they were leaving, to ask about his address. Charles said he wasn’t in Amerika and that he might be in Hawaii, India, or some other dangerous foreign country.
Zach and the Babes had no respect for danger and were completely ignorant that all foreigners are sneaky, scheming plotters determined to destroy Disneyland! They always corrupt good Amerikans with sex, food, and false shows of hospitality. Predictably, this pattern repeated wherever the Bunnies travelled to. This nearly caused them to forget about the lord, which is precisely what the foreign scoundrels wanted. You see, they wanted Lord FreeLuv entirely for themselves!
But Zach was good and holy. He would never forget his lord, and he did his best to preserve his name in his head. When bad winds or lack of fuel left them stranded them on the Devil’s playground, Hawaii, he took the Babes to the island’s only Church of Chuck and led the Babes in prayers for luv and food. Plus, he swore to defend them from the local savages.
The trouble began on the eight day of their Hawaiian escapade. A fearsome Hawaiian tribal chief busted the church door down with his head and uttered this bloodcurdling scream: “ALOHA! HUNGRY AMERIKANS, WELCOME TO HAWAII!”
He was a monster! The Babes gaped at his chocolate-colored body, drooled and dreamed he was the lord.
“Are you our lord?” Zach asked with mixed feelings.
The savage paused, grinned, and answered, “Yes, I am Lord Wickedick. Come, let me take you to one of our bountiful gardens. They’re exploding with food.”
The Babes rushed to kiss the devil, but Zach screamed for their lives, “Remember the Constitution! Free stuff is death to any economy. We must pay for anything we receive!”
“Are you crazy? We’re broke!” they protested.
“Luckily, I have this.” He produced a gold coin. An image of FreeLuv’s amazing ass glorified the tail side and an image of his heart-shaped heart represented the head side. Zach showed it to the savage and gave it to him as full payment for anything he and the Babes took. The chief gushed with gratitude before throwing the coin away and saying, “You look thirsty. I’ll take you to an irresistible spring.”
Chief Wickedick led the way to a forbidden spring that sometimes gushed out of a green rock that looked exactly like a watermelon. Seeing it dripping with the unpurified waters of the underworld, Zach was tempted and attempted, but the moment he placed his lips on the stone the spring dried up.
Chief Wickedick laughed, “That’s no way to drink from a sacred spring! Here, let me show you.” Then he knelt beside the rock, caressed it, uttered dark spells, and as Satan’s liquids poured out, he called Zach over to sate his thirst, and he tried, but it tasted like Hell.
Next, the evil chief convinced his guest to try a vegetable from his forbidden garden of unpackaged, uncooked and unprocessed foods. Zach knew the danger, but the devil in his stomach was a powerful devil, so he spoke to that evil plant, and he caressed its stem, and he licked the disgusting bulbous melon and then, as God forewarned, he metamorphosed into a bearded sex demon!
The terrified Babes had to tie up their leader and drag him back to their spaceship—only to learn that it was out of gas and they were prisoners in the Hawaii-Hell.
Zach and the Bunnies could not escape without purchasing more gas, so I offered them working making luv in India. Being penniless, they accepted, received twelve days of training in luv marketing and sales and were flown to India by my huge slave angels.
Zach and the Bunnies dressed like playboy bunnies, the official mascots of luv. Granted, the Bunnies were old enough to be my mothers, but they could still hop with the best bunnies, so to my surprise, Indians showed no interest in them or their Amerikan luv. Luckily, Zach had a solution. He had the Bunnies package all their hot luv products in bags and boxes printed with pictures of Lord FreeLuv’s smiling face. It worked like a charm. Suddenly, billions of women abandoned their husbands and swore they wanted the real thing. In response, Satan’s deputy in India, Supreme Dictator Mahatma Nymphomania Gandhi, declared a national mental health emergency and advised all Indians to “desist from purchasing or using any luv product or service.”
When Indians continued pursuing luv, Mahatma invited Moolah Bro Zacharin to eat an uncooked dinner under a tree. Although Zacharin ate little, he was a generous man and offered, in payment, a lot of luv. However, Mahatma was not impressed. He pushed Zach’s hand aside and said, “Keep your cold love, Amerikano!”
“It’s cold now, but if you hold it and squeeze it I promise it will warm your entire body like the best fever you ever had.”
Mahatma liked the sound of that and nearly accepted Amerika’s luv when his wife grabbed Zach’s and growled like a beast, “Stop tempting India! We know your secret plan to turn us into sexless slaves of your bugaboo god and his filthy fairies! Begone! And take your silly luv mascots with you! I will protect India’s sacred sexual energies from Amerikan corruption!”
Zach kissed Mahatma and remarked, “You poor man. You in bondage with Satan! How many more sexual diseases do you want?”
“A dozen! That’s a nice number, don’t you agree?” the wife interjected.
“I was speaking to you husband! Mahatma, I know from experience—you have to protect yourself, and luv is the best protection. It will free you from your desires.”
“Oh, bullshit!”
“Luv alone can give your dead country the life it deserves. Without it, you’ll die like everyone else!”
Mahatma was mesmerized by the power of the lord’s luv, and his jealous wife, noticing the change in him, screamed for him to think. But she was too late.
“I will accept your luv,” Mahatma began, “but on one condition: it must be given directly by you!”
Zach was flattered and confounded. “I’m sorry, Mahatma dear, please try to understand, I can’t personally serve a billion Indians.”
“Then India does not want your luv! Get out and take all your luv pushers with you!”
“I’m sorry, but as a free Amerikan, I take orders from no one!”
Then Zach left without another word, but he left some of his luv on Mahatma’s bed. The old sage took the money and had his best counterfeiters create a cheaper, generic version of luv and personally distributed it to the poor, but to just a few per week, so the market had plenty of room for Zach and the Bunnies, and they profited enormously and never felt so appreciated for their work.
After making a killing in India, the Bunnies eagerly resumed their search for Lord FreeLuv. According to Universal Studios (USBS), and GodsNewsNow (GNN) and the Big Bull Corporation (BBC), Lord FreeLuv had retired from service, so they decided to go shopping for luv in Pakistan, which they mistook for Texas—or vice versa.
In Amrep-ruchluc they somehow found Holy Crap!, Amerika’s favorite superstore. The handsome clerks directed them to the Holy Idols aisle, where they found four heroes-in-a-box with tags. The first tag read,
Siddheārtha Guatamo, the Buddha of the Seven Crooked Penises, Wild Lover of Women. Tantricks Inc.
299.00
Breathless with excitement, the Bunnies lifted the lid to have a closer look. Their shrieks rang in my ears as the lid slammed shut. After catching their breath, the fools imagined better luck with the next box. The tag read,
The Hero of the Harem, Abū al-Qāsim Muḥammad Ali. Romantrics Inc.
199.99
Again, they pried the box open but peeked warily inside. There they saw a jar labelled “Muhammad’s soul.” Beside it lay a book containing the five Arabic love sonnets Muhammad sent to Pope Kim. The Bunnies read the poems aloud and fell straight asleep. When they woke, they closed the box and proceeded to the next one. It read,
The Long-Eared Superstud, Jesus Christ. Sadomasochism Corp.
199.98
They agreed that the tag sounded very promising. But, they were deceived. When they peeked inside and saw nothing but the one and only Easter Bunny dressed in a red scarf and twitching its whiskers. In disgust, the fools rushed to the last box, whose tag read,
Lord FreeLuv. Blow his ass and he makes breathtaking music. Clone Corp.
-499.99
The Bunnies were outraged. “They’re selling our lord for less than nothing? That’s an insult!”
The salesclerk apologized and quickly raised the price several-fold. The Bunnies forgot to inspect the box and happily paid the price. Once at home, they tore the box open a life-sized replica in all the lord’s glory! They squealed in ecstasy before realizing something was wrong! Their hero needed batteries! The poor Bunnies couldn’t afford them, so they cursed God and donated their hero to a garbage collector.
Amerika has a long history of helping the people of Chinna, Tchaina, Tzian or whatever the spelling is to produce more luv and better luv, but no one worked harder at helping them than President Angel. Why this favoritism? Because he pitied the Chinnese for having such enormous chins, chins so enormous that their women were so unattractive that the nation’s birthrate was nearly zero, so the economy was always shrinking. When the Chinnese asked for Amerikan expertise in resolving this problem, President Angel sent Lord FreeLuv to them.
Pretty soon, the Chinnese were damn impressed. The lord was their idol. They loved him and couldn’t get enough of his luv. So their evil scientists kidnapped him, lugged him into a laboratory, identified his inflatable penis as the source of his luv making power, took a tissue sample and used it to manufactured millions of high-tech clones of our Lord FreeLuv. These clones were known as “living luv factories,” and each one was designed to excrete the highest quality luv.
Unfortunately, the Chinnese lacked the skills needed to operate large luv production facilities, so their government asked the CEO of NGO Luv Consultants International for help. Eager to stimulate the Chinnese economy and profit in the bargain, CEO M.B. Zacharin and his sexy team went to Chinna to share their luv-making expertise. With hard work and determination, they turned a shy and fearful country into the world’s highest luv production zone.
In fact, the Chinnese became rich from their massive luv-manufacturing, but we all know how greedy foreigners are. They wanted more and more profit and started replacing human luv workers with immortal robots that never complain about having to make too much love. Luv factory owners also replaced quality materials with absolute crap and sold their crappy luv products to unsuspecting consumers around the world. You think I’m kidding? The reason Chinnese-made goods stink is that they’re using pig shit, monkey shit, rat shit and all sorts of modified, fortified, and condensed shit. In the end, a shirt manufactured in Chinna was actually made of 50% reused shit, and iGods and other high-tech devices were made of 100% reconstituted shit. Most scandalously, Chinnese foods were made of recycled shit. In short, everything from Chinna was made of shit, and Amerikans ate it, wore it and flaunted it all.
War was justified, but President Angel declined to fight because he was an Amerikan and as an Amerikan he was an angel, a representative of a higher moral order, and it took great satisfaction in knowing that it had secretly provoked a luv revolution.