Ch. 5, The Gift of Luv

Shopping for Luv

On the night before Muhammadmas[1], Amerikans learned that Lord FreeLuv had been kidnapped by the evil Osama Bin Laden. Strangely, except for tens of millions of homosexuals, most Amerikans didn’t shed a tear. One notable exception was a group of silly female interns known inside political circles as the Bunnies. When they learned of the lord’s kidnapping, they invited Osama to discuss the lord’s release over lunch. But Osama politely declined and texted, “I need him more than you do. You see, the lord and I are busy building the most loving foreign relationship the world has ever seen!!!”

Of course, the jealous Bunnies could not tolerate such unfairness and solemnly vowed to fulfill their own dream. They even hired renowned adventurist, Professor MB Zacharin, to help them capture their lord and hero. The professor was very progressive and immediately insisted that the expedition be done seated in a vehicle. After all, really exciting adventures don’t happen on foot. But, sadly, they could only afford a crappy Chinese solar-biofuel-powered Tornado, a biodegradable submarine named the Minnow, or a spherical, organic green and blue minibus. So, on Zach’s advice, the girls opted for the minibus. Everything was looking up until they attempted to pay and the damn salesperson rejected their money!

“Excuse me!” Zacharin flashed a fistful of dough. “This is Amerikan luv! It’s accepted around the world!”

The salesperson laughed, so Zach called LEO (the Luv Enforcement Organism, or police), and in no time they arrived. After a short tussle, the dealership staff—none of whom could speak Amerikan—was arrested and sentenced to a very nice prison in Mexico, where the rates for prison cells were much better. Meanwhile, in return for their emotional abuse, Zach and the Bunnies legally borrowed one of the dealership’s vehicles, a giant minibus fully loaded with air, water, food and beds.

At this point, the Bunnies should have begun their search for Lord FreeLuv, but they didn’t. Being females, they naturally drove their minibus to New Eden[2]. Granted, New Eden is the most amazing shopping center on Earth; its boutiques are heavenly. Anyway, Lord FreeLuv wasn’t dying any time soon. Of course, even women can grow sick of shopping, and so it happened that, after a few weeks, the Bunnies started to feel lonely, bored, dissatisfied and irritable. Zacharin felt even worse. He even prayed for help, and God took pity on him and replied, “Silence their lust with battery-powered replicas of one of their beloved all-Amerikan heroes. You can find them on sale at the nearest sex shop. And hey, you’re in one right now.”

Zach laughed at his luck. A variety of fake heroes were available, but he insisted on a dozen FreeLuv replicas.

“Why him?” asked the clerk.

“I like the color white. Got a problem with that?”

“No, sir, but 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 truly loved Lord FreeLuv. The clerk, not understanding their feelings, said, “Cheer up. 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 twinkling in his eyes, the clerk added, “He vibrates when you call him, and he puts out when you squeeze him.”

The Bunnies were sold. They melted with desire. They bought several sexy Zacharin replicas for a small fortune. But they were greatly disappointed. No matter how lovingly they caressed or squeezed their rubbery replicas, their little lords wouldn’t give them any luv­. So, they stuffed them into a recycling bin. I think they should have bought some batteries before acting so hastily.


Osama’s Credit Cards

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. I guess they didn’t know that gold was useless and that real money is printed. If they had spent less time adventuring and more time in school, they would have learned that Lord FreeLuv was not buried in Yellowstone but was doing God’s work in Haiti, China, Mexico, and Russia. Millions embraced him and converted to the Amerikan way, but his string of successes ended at the Persian Gulf, where the greedy, hateful Osama Bin Laden flatly refused a direct deposit of luv and demanded all the lord’s credit cards. To this excessive demand, the lord replied, “You don’t want them. Trust me, credit cards are the keys to Hell.”

“Nonsense,” replied Osama.

“All credit cards are from the Devil,” the lord warned.

“That’s scary stuff.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” said the lord, as he reached into his back pocket and extracted two negative-interest-rate credit cards. Giving them, he asked, “What do you plant to buy with them? Guns and bombs?”

“Manual dildos, actually,” said smileless Osama. “And I’ll mail them to every Amerikan woman.”

“Manual dildos? Why?”

“So that Amerikan women will finally enjoy independence, freedom from pregnancy, liberation from bad sex and the destruction of Amerika!”

“Oh my, you certainly are an ambitious and dastardly cunningly and evil mastermind.”

“Thank you.”

“Hey, Osama, if you’re not married yet, you could easily use those cards to get yourself some serious luv.”

Osama laughed, “I’m already married to forty Amerikan women! That’s how many I need to be happy. Hey, do these Amerikan credit cards have spending limits?”

“Of course not. Amerika’s luv for you will always be unconditional and infinite.”

Osama thanked him again. Then he threw the lord overboard. The flailing lord threatened to kill himself for leading so many innocent people into debt and temptation. To this, Osama replied, “You yellow idiot! Can I help you remove your lifejacket?”

The lord said he needed no help and skillfully removed his lifejacket. Though this was extremely and even unforgivably undignified behavior, by God’s grace, the lord’s handsome body was found in the Gulf, floating and still breathing.


Art in the White House

When the news spread that Osama had killed Lord FreeLuv, Zach and the Bunnies cried and were invited to receive condolences at the White House. However, upon their arrival, no one seemed to know why they had come, and they themselves had completely forgotten their intention, so bedazzled were they by the excellent art on display in the White House. Noting their interest, resident White House art historian Mr Charles Oxenbull gave his visitors the most learned, and incredible descriptions of the most famous pieces.

First, Oxenbull took the visitors to a painting by former President Washington. It was known as “That Damned Revolution Nearly Killed Me.” It portrayed a Buddhist, a Muslim, a Hindu, a Christian, a Sikh, a Jewish and a Chinese immigrant fighting a headless, thousand-armed monster who wanted to stop Amerika’s destiny to become rich. All the fighters were armed with books, probably law books, which they threw at their enemies. Another bit of cleverness was that all their faces bore an uncanny resemblance to Washington’s face. Apparently, Washington prophesied a world in which all mortal creatures are equals.

The next masterpiece was an excellent oil painting signed by former President Jackson. It portrayed 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 the hostile heathen, Wounded Knee, a terrible liar who used his name as an excuse not to kneel before God. After they captured Wounded Knee by simply flashing their swords, they converted him to the civilized Amerikan way by forcing him to read their books. But, Wounded Knee misinterpreted everything. He imagined dark secrets hiding behind Plato’s visions of Amerikan politics and behind Aristotle’s vision of Amerikan science, so to save his soul he poked out his eyes.

A third masterpiece, painted directly on the outer walls, was by President Domenic Lincoln, the great Italian president and graffiti artist. It was called “The Exceptional War” and depicted Julius Caesar coming down from Heaven with no other weapon but his mouth, and what a mouth it was. With it, he fought against ignorance and preached the Amerikan way so that the hungry and unsettled natives would create an economy of such abundance that people would always have more stuff than they needed.

Next, Zach and the Bunnies were given an exhilarating and penetrating understanding of a beautiful painting by President Truman, the first literate and Jewish Amerikan leader. In the words of their interpreter, this painting was an enlargement of the old 100 dollar bill showing how the first Amerikans escaped from Europe, where they were horribly oppressed by bad Christians and sexually abused by naughty priests. These early pioneers settled in the promised land, Amerika, where they suffered plagues of mosquitoes, diseases, murders, wars, and harsh winters because of bad leaders.

Next, they saw President Angel’s prophetic “Triumph of President Chuck.” It portrayed my boy making peace with Death, the bane of Amerika, and leading his people over the millions of women, children and homosexuals who were ruining the country. A pulsating heart and a shining, gold and iron underwear alluded to how he defeated them without violence.

The Bunnies also viewed President Bill Bush’s prophetic mural painted on pages randomly glued to a wall and bearing the bold title, “Beware Amerika!” This stunning masterpiece depicted the little known Anti-God, an amateur blasphemer and spouter of ignorance who sported a beard, an Arabic nose, Chinese teeth, a Russian eye and a loaded pair of shorts. The Anti-God shouted in his word bubble, “Because Amerika reads plotless and pointless comics, magazines and newspapers, all its thoughtful books shall be burned! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!” In the background, Amerika’s book stores and libraries already coughed up clouds of inky-black smoke and the president prayed for God to spare the Hollywood Bible, and so it was spared for a time.

The last painting was a triptych by President Walt Disney. It depicted how horrible humans spent their first few million years fighting cruel beasts and dreaming of Disneyland, a world in which all animals are friendly. However, the third panel showed a world overrun with lazy domesticated animals, spoiled princesses, cruel kings and evil stepmothers. Finally, in the middle panel, the artist portrayed Disneyworld, a world so fair that dogs feed themselves, princesses eat and turn into pumpkins and tigers are smaller than God’s ding-a-ling.

Zach and the Bunnies were deeply impressed by the creativity and imagination of Amerika’s leaders. But, they asked so many questions that Charles had to give them a pile of money to go abroad to continue their search for the ultimate soulmate, Lord FreeLuv.


Nymphomania in Hawaii

So they went abroad without realizing the dangers Amerikans face in foreign countries, for foreigners are sneaky, scheming plotters, thieves and murderers! But first, they always try to bribe and corrupt you with so-called gifts and shows of hospitality, and that’s precisely what happened. They were seduced and corrupted by “friendly” Persians, Palestinian Jews, East Koreans, Ruffians, Niggers, Pinatubons, Hellians, Eurasians, Hateans, albino Chimpanzees, Terraristanis and you name it.

After a year of being waylaid by foreign debauchers, they were so fat and satisfied that they forgot about the lord, which is precisely what the foreign scoundrels wanted, for they wanted the lord for themselves!

Fortunately, Zach was incorruptible. He would never forget his lord or abandon the Bunnies in the hands of their enemies. Determined to save their souls, he told them he knew where Lord FreeLuv was hiding, so they joined him on a flight back to Amerika, but bad winds and lack of fuel stranded them on the Devil’s playground, Hawaii. They hid in the island’s only church and trembled in fear and prayed for luv, for angels, and also for a little food and water. During the eight day of their stay in Hell, a fearsome Hawaiian tribal chief busted the door down with his head and uttered this bloodcurdling scream: “Aloha! WELCOME TO HAWAII!”

The Babes gaped at his chocolate-colored body. They were hungry enough to eat it.

“You may call me Wickedick,” he said with false friendliness. “Come, let me take you to one of our ancestral gardens. They’re all bursting with free food.”

The Babes rushed to kiss him, but Zach waved the Constitution in their faces and explained, “What are you doing? Remember the Constitution! Free stuff is death to any economy. We must pay for anything we receive!”

“But we’re broke!” they protested.

“Nonsense.” He showed them an antique gold coin minted with an image of FreeLuv’s ass on one side and an image of his pisser on the other. “This is an extremely valuable and powerful coin. Watch and see,” he said, grinning confidently. Then he gave the coin to Chief Wickedick. The chief thanked him, threw the coin away and said, “My friend, before you eat, you should drink. I’ll take you to a wondrous spring.”

Then the liar led the way to an evil spring. Seeing its sparkling water, Zach forgot the Constitution and attempted to drink the water, but the moment he approached, the spring stopped flowing.

Chief Wickedick laugh, “I thought you knew better! If you want a mountain spring to flow, you should always caress her rocks and make a joke or two,” he said, smiling.

Zach touched the mountain as best as he could and whispered how beautiful it was, and by Satan’s magic, the damned spring flowed again! But God made sure the water tasted like menstrual blood.

After Zach recovered from a bout of gagging, 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 him up and drag him back to their little spaceship.


The Indian Job

After witnessing their struggle to survive without money, I agreed to help Zach and the Bunnies by offering them work making luv in Satan’s little empire in India. They bravely accepted the offer and received twelve days of training in luv marketing and sales. Their task was to sell high end luv paraphernalia that even the most miserly priest would be unable to resist.

Zach and the Bunnies were dressed for success, but to their surprise, Indians showed no interest in Amerikan luv, so they decided to package all their products in boxes covered with pictures of Lord FreeLuv’s smiling face. That made a world of difference. Suddenly, billions of Indian 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 dinner. He was an excellent host until Zacharin attempted to pay for his meal. Mahatma flung the money away and screamed:

Don’t insult me with your paper garbage!

“You prefer digital luv? I could pay with my iGod, if you like.”

Mahatma grabbed Zach’s head with two hands and shook it as he pleaded incomprehensively, “Stop tempting India, Zach! We know your secret plan! We know you want to turn us into sexless slaves of the bugaboo god and his fairies! but you will fail! I will protect India’s sacred sexual energies from American corruption!

Zach squirmed free and gently replied, “Well, you’re obviously in bed with Satan. I know, she charges no one, but how many sexual diseases do you want?”

Mahatma laughed, “A dozen! That’s a nice number, don’t you agree?”

“Mahatma, didn’t your mother tell you about AIDS? You have to protect yourself, and luv is the best protection. Everything must done with luv. Every human exchange must be done through the medium of luv.”

“Does bullshit always fall from your mouth?”

“If you want God’s luv and if you want Him to bless India with real material and real spiritual progress, then you must accept his luv, earn his luv and buy his luv.”

Well, truer words were never spoken. Mahatma cried and said, “Fine! But India will only accept you luv from the hand of Lord FreeLuv!”

“You know that’s not reasonable. The lord cannot be the personal luv servant of a billion Indians!”

“So be it! Then India does not want your luv! Get out and take all your luv pushers with you!”

“I’m sorry, but I’m Amerikan and as an Amerikan I do not respect anyone’s borders. All Amerikans treat the world as if it we were a great big commune full of brothers and sisters. We don’t exclude or discriminate, and our borders really don’t exist. Nowadays, if you come without permission, we welcome you and give you chance to earn our luv by giving you job in agriculture, construction, prostitution or Hollywood. So, when we come here with our luv and with our own jobs, why shouldn’t we expect hospitality from you?”

“You want hospitality? I’ll show you hospitality! Come to my bedroom!”

Zach left without another word, but he left his wallet behind. Mahatma took the money and sent it to the National Mint, where the world’s best counterfeiters created a cheaper, generic version of luv called luv. It was indistinguishable in all ways except for this: its side-effects included callousness, blindness, erectile dysfunction, autism and sociopathy—all excellent punishments for counterfeiting.

Zach and the Bunnies earned enormous profits in India and sent much of their money home, first and foremost to provide food and shelter for their children and their parents, and later to provide them get the medical help they needed to fight several horrible diseases that originated in Asia.


Shopping for Love

By chance, the Bunnies were informed by USBS and GodsNewsNow (GNN) and the Big Bull Corporation (BBC) that Lord FreeLuv had been rescued and was now safe in Amerika, where he was hosting puritan parties at a Texan church. Desperate to meet their hero, the Bunnies rode 10,000 strong Indian men out of India, and they soon arrived in Pakistan, which they mistook for Texas, so they gave their human taxis generous tips.

In Karachi they somehow found a brand new Holy Crap!, Amerika’s favorite superstore. The clerks didn’t speak God’s English, but they read their desire from their faces and directed them to the Holy Idols aisle. So, there they went, and there they found four heroes-in-a-box. The first box had a tag that read,

Siddheārtha Guatamo, the Buddha of the Seven Crooked Penises, Wild Lover of Women. Tantricks Inc. O299.00

Breathless with excitement, they lifted the lid to have a closer look. No pornographic Buddha lay inside. But, they did find a dog turd. Shrieks of horror rang in my ears as the lid slammed shut. After catching their breath, the fools approached the next box. The tag read,

The Hero of the Harem, Abū al-Qāsim Muammad Ali. Romantrics Inc. O199.99

 The customers warily peeked inside and saw a jar labelled “Muhammad’s soul.” Beside it lay a book containing the five sonnets Muhammad sent to his secret lover, Halla. The Bunnies were tempted, but they wanted something more and proceeded to the next pretty box, which read,

The Long-Eared Superstud, Jesus Christ. Genetic Lottery Corp. O199.98

This sounded promising. Hope beat a song in their hearts. But when they lifted the lid, hope fluttered and died. The box only contained an old tube of genital lubricant. In disgust, the relentless fools rushed to the last box. The tag read,

Lord FreeLuv. Blow his ass and he makes breathtaking music. Clone Corp. O-499.99

The Bunnies were outraged. “What?! A negative price? They’re selling our lord for less than nothing? That’s an insult!”

The salesclerk was very understanding and raised the price several-fold. The Bunnies happily paid far too much and, once they were home, they tore the box open. There he was in all his glory! A life-sized replica faithful to every detail. It was their dream come true! But, something was wrong! Their hero was non-responsive! He needed batteries! The poor Bunnies couldn’t afford them, so they cursed God and donated their hero to a garbage collector.


The Chin Job

Amerika has a long history of helping the people of Chinna produce more and better luv, but no one worked harder at helping them than President Angel, who had always pitied the Chinnese because their enormous chins impede their ability to talk and make luv. He had personally sold them many medicines and contraptions to boost their luv-making powers, but all in vain.

Then, one day, the president discovered Lord FreeLuv and his astounding luv production capacity. It was a revelation. The world needed thousands and possibly millions of Lord FreeLuvs. In a clandestine operation, Amerikan female agents stole the lord’s genetic material from his penis and, in their secret laboratories, they manufactured millions of high-tech clones of the magnificent Lord FreeLuv.

These clones were known as luv factories and they ranged in size from no larger than an infant boy to dimensions larger that the White House. Each factory used biofuels such as hot-pressed olive oil and raw materials such as sugar, alcohol, cereals and rotten tomatoes. With simple inputs such as these, a Lord FreeLuv factory could produce the highest quality luv.

Chinna was the biggest market for LFL factories. The Chinnese, due to their enormous chins, had always struggled to produce enough luv for their own survival, so Amerika exported its best and biggest luv factories to them. Unfortunately, the Chinnese lacked the skills needed to operate large luv production facilities, and the Chinnese economy continued to stink.

Now, around this time that Zach and the bunnies heard rumors that Lord FreeLuv was in Chinna. So, they hired 10,000 Pakistani men to carry them to Chinna. Upon their arrival, they bade their taxis farewell and began looking for Lord FreeLuv in the country’s great cities. After days of fruitless searching, they spoke to the local women and were first laughed at, then pitied, and finally the Chinnese said, “Dear Amerikan friends, we’ll give each one of you your own Lord FreeLuv, but only after you show us how to make luv.”

“Why do you think we are experts?”

“We know all about your Amerikan education system, so we know you are all luv experts.”

Well, they couldn’t deny that. So, they went to Chinna’s idle luv factories and began sharing their knowledge and luv making skills. After a few intense weeks of training, with hard work and determination, they turned a shy and fearful country into one that produced more luv than any other on Earth.

Although the Chinnese became rich in luv, you know how greedy foreigners are. They wanted more and more profits from their manufacturing industries, so they started replacing human luv workers with robots that didn’t know anything about luv. Chinny factory owners also replaced quality materials with crap, lied about it and sold their crappy luv products to unsuspecting consumers around the world.

Amerikan consumers noticed nothing evil until President Angel appeared on a widely viewed television show and announced: “My friends, faithful consumers everywhere, if you haven’t already noticed, Chinnese-made goods stink because Chinnese are using pig shit, monkey shit, rat shit and all sorts of modified, fortified, and condensed shit. We trusted them to make good luv products for our consumption, but they are betraying us and they are injuring the global economy!”

Just how smelly was the shituation? Very smelly. 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.

Amerikans are so tolerant and kind-hearted that they weren’t even angry when the truth became public. A war would have been justified, but President Angel declined to fight—not because the budget was broken and a major tax revolt was underway, but because he was an Amerikan, a representative of a higher moral order and an angel to boot.

[1] Formerly known as “Christmas.”

[2] Known as “New York” before Osama persuaded Europe and Amerika to try Islam. What did New Eden look like? Use your imagination. Seriously. Try it. Imagine rustic boughs of flowers, clouds dripping with coconuts and breadfruit, and kids cavorting with rabbits. Isn’t that nice? Well, that’s not it.


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