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.
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