“Don’t you think it was a little over the top?” Hugh inquired.
“Of course not,” she insisted. “It is vogue to criticize Trump, make fun of him and even threaten to kill him—it is even hip. And I am nothing if not hip. But now I have been so victimized by public opinion and the Trumps are harassing me over a little thing like this, that my life here has become unbearable,” she said as she began to sob. “I have decided to go another direction.”
“Which is?”
“I am going to Syria to entertain ISIS,” she replied, grinning once again. “Got me a new gig!”
“Why of all things would you do this?” Hugh replied.
“Well they saw my picture with the bloodied head of the President and thought as I did that the gag was so funny they invited me to come over and entertain the troops. It is a natural of course because they, like me, hate Trump, they, like me, enjoy a really good severed head joke and—frankly—I am into severed head routines and have been working on some new material,” she replied buoyantly. “Ever since they started posting videos showing innocent people getting their heads chopped off I thought, ‘now that stuff is funny.’ They are calling me “Jihadi Jane.” Sounds cool hey?”
“Don’t you fear for your life, being a woman and all? I mean they do not respect women and seem to use them badly if you know what I mean.”
“Oh not at all. As you are not a Hollywood liberal like I am, you would not understand this, but all humans are basically good and I am sure that they will respect me. They like liberals and anyone who hates Trump will be treated with respect I am sure. They assured me that I would be a welcome addition and could entertain and be of service to them. Why not? Since I am underappreciated in my own country I am going to leave.”
“Well, I wish you would reconsider, implored Hugh, “you may find out that being of service to these folks may mean something different. What happens in the unlikely event you run out of severed head jokes?”
“Well I have made up my mind and am headed out later this week. Heading out—get it?” she chuckled. “I got a million of those…”
“Uh—“
“--I’ll beheading out soon,” she said, giggling, “I don’t care who you are, that is funny.”
“I don’t think—“
“Be cutting out soon,” she continued.
“That’s not fun—“
“--I’m severing my ties to America,” she said, laughing uncontrollably.
“I get it but—“
“—I can do this all day,” she said jokingly, “this I why they love me over there. You gotta admit this stuff is hilarious. They’ll be laughing their head off over there. Get it?”
“No, I—“
“—Well, sorry to cut this off –get it?—but I gotta run. They are sneaking me out of the country and I need to pack my burka and fake machete….I have enjoyed talking to you.”
“But I have a few more questions…” Hugh replied, trying to get a word in edgewise.
“Sorry, thanks for your time, gotta go, chop chop as they say. Gawd, they just get funnier all the time don’t they?”
“Nope,” Hugh replied, as she hung up the phone in his ear.
“His newest book, The Wind and the Spirit (Stories of Faith and Inspiration)” was released in 2011 with all the author’s royalties go to support the Carmelite sisters.”