(GK: Garrison Keillor; SS: Sue Scott: TR: Tim Russell)
....We have a videotape we want to run now, a videotape found in an abandoned house in Rillirillibad and turned over to the C.I.A. and we got it from them. Roll it, Scott----
SS: Praise be to Allah! There is no god but Allah. ---Honey, Ramadan's over, what do you say we go out and have dinner?
TR (ARAB): Praise to Allah. There is no god but Allah. I don't wish to go out for dinner, Evening Star. As long as we are still engaged in our holy battle against the Great Satan and the infidels, I can't go to restaurants. Or movies. Not while the jihad continues.
SS: Oh. -----I'm not Evening Star, by the way. That's one of your other wives. I'm Radiant Light of Daybreak.
TR (ARAB): Radiant Light of Daybreak. Sorry. I have so much on my mind.
SS: Honey, it's the holidays. Please----
TR (ARAB): No. I cannot. Impossible.
(RING) (PICK UP)
TR: Yes? What do you want? Do I want to change my long-distance what?? (PAUSE) Why do you call me in the evening?? I tell you to leave me alone!! I declare a jihad on all telemarketers. Jihad!! Do you hear me?? Jihad. (SLAM PHONE DOWN)
SS: You've been declaring a lot of jihad lately.
TR (ARAB): The righteous man must take up the sword of truth against the enemies of Allah.
SS: Okay, but the plumber?
TR (ARAB): He said he'd be here Tuesday. It's Saturday. No plumber. So --- a jihad on him.
SS: If you want plumbing, it might be easier to get out of this cave and live in a house or something.
TR (ARAB): I will not go live in a house and be part of this cursed infidel culture with its degenerate music and decadent mouthwashes and hairsprays and deodorants----
SS: I like their deodorants----
TR (ARAB): Allah is great, Allah protects the faithful from bodily odor. (BELL)
SS: What's that?!
TR (ARAB): It's the cave bell.
SS: Who could it be?
(FOOTSTEPS, THEN LARGE RUSTY STEEL DOOR SLOWLY OPENS)
TR (ARAB): Yes??
AF: Pizza delivery.
TR (ARAB): Ah, Allah is great, there is no God but Allah. --- Extra large deep dish, extra onions and green peppers, right?
AF: Right. It's fourteen shekels and ninety-eight shiny beads.
TR (ARAB): I have a coupon.
AF: The coupon's from Kabul. It's no good in Tora Bora.
TR (ARAB): What??? Infidel!! Anyway, it's been more than 30 minutes, so I get the pizza free.
AF: That offer doesn't apply at this altitude.
TR (ARAB): (CRY OF RAGE) You cannot treat a holy man with contempt! I declare a jihad on you! Infidel!!!
AF: Whatever. You owe me fourteen shekels.
TR (ARAB): Here! (JINGLE OF COINS IN PALM) Begone! May camels defecate in your sandals! (SLAM STEEL DOOR, FOOTSTEPS)
SS: What's the problem?
TR (ARAB): (GRUMBLING. OPENING PIZZA) (SHOCKED PAUSE) Anchovies! How could they defile my pizza with the cursed anchovy!! (A SERIES OF EXCLAMATIONS OF DISGUST, AS HE PICKS ANCHOVIES OUT AND THROWS THEM AWAY)
SS: You know, airfare is really cheap now. We could get over the mountains to Karachi and take a plane and be in Buffalo the day after tomorrow. We could be there for Christmas drinking talibanana daiquiris.
TR (ARAB): Christmas!!! How dare you mention Christmas to me, woman??
SS: I sort of like Christmas.
TR (ARAB): I can't believe what I'm hearing. Perfidy!! Treason!!
SS: I always wanted to see Buffalo. A city named for a large ox-like creature. They have a football team there. The Bills.
TR (ARAB): Football! I declare a jihad on the Bills of Buffalo.
SS: No need for that, the way they're playing.(PHONE RING, PICKUP)
Hello? Yes---- ?
TR (ARAB): This is sacrilege. Women do not speak on telephone! Give me that!
SS: They want us to support public radio.
TR (ARAB): The answer is no! Heresy! Perfidy! I despise the membership weeks. --- What are you doing, woman? You're----- you're removing your veil? You've exposed your face to the lascivious gaze of the infidels? How can you? And what are those black shoes that are high in the heel? And the pants with the bottoms of the bell and the top of the halter? And the little red cap with the fur?
SS: You like em?
TR (ARAB): I forbid you to wear them!! Do you hear me? You put that chador back on now or you're gonna get a jihad declared on you, big time! You hear me? (FOOTSTEPS) (HE FADES) You hear me?? I'm gonna jihad you like you've never been jihadded before!! Woman??? Come back here! (DOOR SLAM) (FOOTSTEPS CONTINUE)
SS (SINGS TO HERSELF) Where treetops glisten, and children listen ---- to hear sleighbells in the snow......Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding. Hey Pizza Man!
SS: You got room for a passenger?
AF: Hey! Hop on! Giddup! (HORSE WHINNY, JINGLE BELLS, HOOVES) (MUSICAL BUTTON)
© Garrison Keillor 2001, additional material by Dan Fiorella