Satire
Denis Schulz
Okay, so the game was up. “On the count of three…” the gun would go off and they would see who the coward was…”Mr. Piffy. So Che Guevara had figured out who he was. It hadn’t taken much—Piffy had given himself away repeatedly, he couldn’t blame everything on Asma bint Marwan and the chances were one hundred to one that Ward Churchill’s patron saint had stuffed enough bullets up his butt to...
Denis Schulz
The men seated around the conference table stared at Jimmy Carter. Richard the Lion-Heart could have parachuted into the middle of their séance from the siege of Acre with a crossbow strapped to his back and would have caused less alarm. Mouths gaped open; eyes flickered with fear.
Che Guevara was the first to recover. He smiled. He was Alfonso Bedoya in Treasure of the Sierra Madre. :”Ah,...
Denis Schulz
Okay, so he was in Yasser Arafat’s Fuhrerbunker. It was where he wanted to be, wasn’t it? It was where the Keepers of the Fleas hung out, where they kept the homing devices that controlled the Fleas from the Prophet’s Beard, fleas that were still alive after 1,400 years and still capable of spreading death, disease, destruction and ignorance across the world—the Fleas of the Islamic Apocalypse....
Denis Schulz
It wasn’t Des Moines, Iowa, or Gun Blast, Texas, it was Gaza City, the land of Yasser Arafat and Hamas, of car bombings, honor killings and nasty old men filled with 1,400 years of hatred. But no one had promised Piffy a rose garden, least of all Asma bint Marwan. He got off the bus from Rafah carrying puppy dog in a covered birdcage—yes, a covered birdcage. The mutt was sound asleep and no one...
Denis Schulz
Asma bint Marwan could be very persuasive when she crossed her legs and looked into Piffy’s eyes. There was far more thigh than miniskirt and that suited Piffy just fine. She was like Marilyn Monroe standing over a heating grate designed by the Marquis de Sade. She would have given Potsie Weber a heart attack. There wasn’t anything in the world Bernard Piffy would have liked better at the...
Funny Guy
Prophet Muhammad "texted" me from his "blackberry" last night. He said that it was "unbecoming" of FFI to write this negative article about Camel Urine. He then proceeded to tell me that all kinds of urine are good. People who know me know that I argue a lot, so prophet Muhammad told me flat out that my rejection of the idea that urine is of medicinal qualities is "Kufr" and grave "Haram". He...
Denis Schulz
He wasn’t Audie Murphy; he wasn’t Alvin York; he wasn’t Shane or Rooster Cogburn; he wasn’t Cump Sherman marching through Georgia; he wasn’t any of those, he was Bernard Piffy, an average private eye up to his neck in a lot of things he didn’t understand—Mike Hammer had once called him a nerd—but he would be damned if he was going to let some Muslim SOB shoot him dead in the basement of a dirty...
Denis Schulz
“What are we going to do, Uncle Bernie?” wailed Henrietta.
Piffy stared at the bomb. It wasn’t much—five sticks of dynamite, some wires, a clock and a detonator; Mike Hammer would have ignored it—but it was more than enough to send Nick and Nora Charles (or was it Bert and Ernie) to Purgatory or to Plains, Georgia, if not to Hell. He shook his head. It didn’t look good. “I don’t know, kid,” he...
Denis Schulz
For once Bernard Piffy was at a loss for words. He had no idea of what he should do. He was in a cell full of dead roaches in the basement of a Madrassas not in an emergency room at a Metropolitan hospital where trained medical personnel looked after rape victims or in a woman’s shelter where psychiatrists and psychologists with more degrees than he had days in school had some idea of what would...
Denis Schulz
Well, at least he had found Henrietta. It wasn’t much, but it was something. A couple of thugs—Asians, Jihadists, Islamo-fascists, boogermen, Cro-Magnons: call them what one would—came out of the shadows to reinforce Atta and Hanjour. Piffy was searched. They took his wallet; his cell phone, his complimentary Tenth Anniversary Shell Scott Pick and Skeleton Key Ring and they found the quarter...
Denis Schulz
Mrs. Cowsnofsky was furious. The worst that could possibly have happened had happened. Aisha had been snatched from under her nose! She started across the restroom toward Henrietta. ‘Hank’ was still sitting on the floor wiping at his bloody nose with the back of his hand. There was blood on his blouse and on the floor around him.
A noise came from one of the stalls, a muffled cry for...
Denis Schulz
“Don’t you worry, Mr. Piffy,” said Cowsnofsky. “We’ll get you the best damn lawyer in England and you’ll be out of jail before those rat-bag government plumbers can aim your toilet at the good old red, white and blue.”
Piffy said something like "Tie me kangaroo down, sport,” and it was off he went.
Piffy knew the routine. At length he was ushered into the interrogation room. Deputy Chief...
Denis Schulz
Piffy was caught between a rock and a hard place; between the devil and the deep blue sea; between a last tango in Paris and a dance with the devil in Hell. With the muzzle of Hani Hanjour’s Glock 17 pressed to the side of his head there wasn’t any time for prayers—no Last Confession; no Hail Mary; not even a Jesus Saves! He was less than a second from eternity and a dumb headline in the...
Denis Schulz
The nikab proved to be an excellent disguise. No one paid much attention to him. He passed within an arm’s length of three different Bobbies and one even smiled at him. He got back to his apartment without any difficulty
It was when Piffy removed the nikab that he discovered that Asma bint Marwan, as usual, had had the last laugh. Secreted in one of the pockets of the bulky garment was puppy dog...
Denis Schulz
Piffy offered no resistance and the patrol officers hustled him back to his cell—it was time for another conference with Deputy Chief Constable Stumble and it wasn’t long in coming.
He sat there on the edge of his cot, a tired old man, as Stumble paced back and forth in front of him. Neither said a word. At last Stumble sighed, shifted his no-tobacco pipe from one corner of his mouth to the...
Denis Schulz
“It was on You Tube,” said the Professor. “It was a hoot. A guy named Bernard Piffy—“ He paused to look down the length of the bar. “Now where have I heard that name before?” he said. He smiled and continued: “This Piffy character attacked the grandnephew of King Abdullah of Saudi Arabia on the Kharma With Darma Show. Then he beat up some Asian kid and knocked down a Constable, appropriately...
Denis Schulz
There were no laws against being caught in flagrante dilecto in a hospital bed in England or anywhere else for that matter—not that Bernard Piffy had committed an illegal act or had done anything that could be considered as contributing to one (indeed, if anyone had been sinned against it had been Piffy) and by the time Nurse Gladys and the intern got over their surprise the originator of the...
Ayesha Ahmed
Ayesha Ahmed
3.31 Say (O Muhammad, to mankind): If you love Allah, follow me; Allah will love you and will forgive you your sins.
Our prophet raped with abandon and loved it.. So any Muslim who rapes a woman to follow in the footsteps of the Prophet, is loved and blessed by Allah ..
Here are a few hadiths about our beloved Prophet’s banging teenage widows same day he killed their husbands in...
Denis Schulz
Piffy was lucky to be alive. The police found him lying in the gutter. Otis was dead. His skull had been fractured and his spleen ruptured. The attendant at the Esso Petrol Station had called the police. Fortunately, a police cruiser had been in the area. It might have been the famous Lamborghini Murcielago. Anyway, that’s what Piffy would tell the boys at Joe’s Bar and Grille and Gun Club when...
Ibn Kammuna
Reposting
Ibn Kammuna
Regarding people of the cave
How many people stayed in the cave, prophet Mo?
Answer: I do not know, but I do know this; they must have had a dog with them. After all, we have dogs lying around here all the time.
018.022
YUSUFALI: (Some) say they were three, the dog being the fourth among them; (others) say they were five, the dog being the sixth,- doubtfully guessing at...
Denis Schulz
Piffy was stunned. He sat there for some time in the coffee bar as the patrol officers from the visitors center rushed about looking for an escaped prisoner. Of course, they were looking for ‘him,’ but he was no longer ‘him,’ he was something else—something he had wanted to be, older, but too much of a good thing could be devastating and Piffy was devastated.
Being turned into a ten-year-old boy...
Denis Schulz
The Professor looked up from the newspaper he had been reading. “If I didn’t know better,” he said, “I would think this was our man Piffy, but that couldn’t be. It would be ludicrous to even think so.”
“Piffy?” said Joe. “Our man in London?” Joe was proprietor of Joe’s Bar and Grille and Gun Club. “What’s he up to now? Wasn’t he supposed to have been back in the States weeks ago?”...
Denis Schulz
He wasn’t the first naked ten-year-old boy the prostitute with the heart of gold had ever seen, if indeed she was a prostitute, but it was the first time she had seen a naked ten-year-old boy that was supposed to be a girl and she recognized the difference immediately. She was surprised, that’s all—not flabbergasted, not astounded, not astonished merely surprised.
Piffy, on the other hand,...
Denis Schulz
Oh, yes, he had went and done it this time! No one in the history of law enforcement had ever attempted a more ridiculous hair-brained scheme—not Inspector Clouseau; not Maxwell Smart, not Tracer Bullet; not Deputy Dawg. It was a new low—for him, for his profession, for humankind. What on earth had possessed him to think he could pull off something so incredibly stupid? Asma bint Marwan? Yeah—...
Denis Schulz
If only he had been Mike Hammer or Hulk Hogan or even George Costanza, he might have had a chance, but he was Bernard Piffy—worse yet, a ten-year-old Bernard Piffy, a puny little kid who would have had trouble handling Shirley Temple on the deck of the Good Ship Lollipop, and here he was in the clutches of King Kong’s Siamese twin, the notorious Yaser Abdel Said. At least he thought it was Said....
