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Queen Esther
by Albert Russo

King Xerxes was so obsessed by hair that he wanted a woman’s hair to remind him of the mane of a mare - that’s the horse’s wife.

When D Day arrived, Esther who could hardly breathe she was so tense, fell on her knees in front of the king.

And before she could open her mouth, he said, in a hoarse voice: “You will be my wife and I shall name you queen of all Persia.”

Esther couldn’t believe her ears, they were buzzing like she had entered a bee hive. The king had to pull her up.

Mordecai was so proud of his young cousin that he didn’t stop crying that whole night. He advised her never to reveal that she was Jewish, on account that the thousands of Heebies who had been chased from Jerusalem many years back by the stinking, god-awful but very powerful king of Babylon, Nabo the Nerd - he must have had a huge schnozzle -, were still considered no better than slaves.

The next evening, as he left the splendid garden where he spent an hour with Esther, Mordecai overheard two of the king’s servants plotting against their master. They planned to kill him the following day.

All shook up, Mordecai ran back to the garden to inform his beautiful cousin that something dreadful was about to happen.

Not wasting a minute, Esther asked for an audience with the king. Yeah, in them olden days even the wife of a monarch - not the butterfly, nerd! - had to request the ladder’s permission to see him. I don’t think Prince Philip had to do the same whenever he wanted to talk with Queen Lisbeth. That would be too riiii-di-culous for words!

“My king,” she said in a trembling voice, and tears in her eyes, “You must protect yourself, for word has come to me that two of your servants want to assassinate you, and they will do it tomorrow if you don’t take the necessary measures.”

And so, king Xerxes had the two plotters impaled in the following hour. Wah wee, do you know what that means? They insert a long and pointed wooden pole into the mouth of the criminal, piercing all the innards, before coming out of his butt hole. Jeezette almighty, it must be extra-crucifying, even worse than what Jesus went through on his cross. I suppose that they deserved it. By the way, today’s Islamic terrorists oughta get the same treatment on account that they murder innocents indiscriminately. It’s too easy to just kill them with a gun. They hardly suffer and their families believe - what dinosaurish idiots! hey, it rhymes with whorish - that, being martyrs, they are joined down in hell by 72 virgin slaves.

“Ma belle,” the king asked his wifey, thereafter, “who warned you that my life was in such danger?”

“Mordecai, my Lord, he’s one of your court officials,” Esther answered, without telling him that he was her elder cousin.