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Nabo the Nerd
by Albert Russo

In the sixth century BCE, the nasty king Nebuchadnezzar of Babylonia - that’s where Irak is today. I’ll call him Nabo the nerd - made war against the Hebrew folk and destroyed Solomon’s Temple, as well as most of their properties in Jerusalem, and dragged them into exile, with nary a donkey or a goat, which some of them owned.

Babylonia is also called Mesopotamia - Hippopotamia is what I say, on account that, even though that’s were the first civilization was born, it conquered huge territories, killing and maiming thousands of people from the Mediterranean to Persia - if you didn’t know, it’s Iran, where the MCP ayatollahs, them bearded spooks, force the women to look like black phantoms. Poor lassies, the last thing they would like to see is The phantom of the Opera, a very scary thriller which my uncle and I enjoyed watching on Broadway.

After a while, the Persians conquered the Babylonian empire and reigned over that whole area, which now became the most powerful in the world, extending from Ethiopia, in Africa, to India. This is when our story begins, and it takes place in the second half of the fifth century BCE.

To celebrate his greatness, king Xerxes, who was a big boaster, threw a huge and expensive party for his noblemen, officers and generals. It lasted many days. Of course, he wanted his wife queen Vashti to join in the festivities, where everybody got drunk and merry, with lots of music and belly dancers. But lo, very low and behold and beehive, she refused to come. The king got quite angry, but when his advisers told him that she was giving a terrible example to the women of Persia, who were starting to disobey their husbands - if you remember, most of the time, us lassies had to bow before every guy, whether he was a stinking beggar or a prince -, disavowed his wife and she lost her title of queen, joining her toiling sisters in the fields. And soon enough, instead of smelling of honey and of the most fragrant roses, she now stank of cow dung. Dung almost rhymes with low rank.

Still tipsy and bawling out that he no longer had a queen, and that therefore he couldn’t reign normally, the king flew into a mastodon rage, scaring the wits out of his closest aides and advisors. Terrified, the country’s commanders called for an urgent meeting to decide what was to be done before mayhem took place.

And so they came to the conclusion that king Xerxes should have brought to him Persia’s most beautiful woman to replace the fickle Vashti - hey watch it, you perverts, ‘fickle’ has nothing to do with the four-letter word you don’t stop using! It’s vulgar enough when you hear it from boys, but when it is my peerettes, who gush it, it becomes disgusting, coz then they sound like prostitutes. A bit of feline dignity, is what I say.