The grass eaters of Bakistan
“We will fight (Hindia) for a thousand years!” Declared chairman of the Bakistan Beables Barty (BBB), Zulfikar Ali Bruto. A couple of years later he was in Hindia trying to negotiate the release of 90,000 Bakistani prisoners of war.
Becoming the Prime Minister after the East Bakistan debacle in 1971 AD, Bruto decided to enter into a nuclear arms race with Hindia after the Hindian government, led by a closet witch, Hindra Gandhi, decided to eradicate poverty in Hindia by spending billions of rupees on building a nuclear bum.
“We will eat grass if we have to (to build our own bum)!” Bruto now declared, while having his favorite dish, Chicken malai tikka with roghni naan.
A couple of years later he was hanging from the gallows.
But the beoble of Bakistan who were regularly having the next best thing (tree bark), decided to instead support the prospect of having halal steak promised by Bruto’s pious general, Ziaul Bin Qasim Bin Ghaznavi Bin Ghori Bin Handlebar Moonch.
Of course, there was no such thing as a halal steak; in fact according to the dictates of Zia’s ulema, it was haram for common beoble to have steak because the whole idea smacked of atheistic communism.
The ulema insisted that only military beoble and rich beoble and fat religious beoble could have steaks (albeit halal) because Hindian soldiers were largely vegetarians and worshiped cows.
Zia agreed and put grass back on the common beoble’s menu that now included Pakistani grass, American hay, Chinese bush, Congolese banana leaves and tree bark.
All these were made halal when the great Kingdumb of Saudi Arabia sprinkled the holy waters of Zamzam on the grass – or so it claimed.
When asked by a nosy Jew/Zionist/Reptilian western reporter why he executed Bruto if grass was again to become the staple food for all common Bakistanis, Ziaul replied that the grass Bruto was offering was not being grown according to the Shariah.
“You see,” said Zia, “Balkistan was created in the name of the military … I mean, religion. My religion. Bakistan was created by the great Muslim warrior, diplomat, swordsman, horse breeder and infidel killer, Mohammad Bin Qasim, as the world’s first modern Islamic caliphate.”
“But that doesn’t answer my question,” said the nosy fool of a reporter; “wasn’t the country created by Muhammad Ali Jinnah?”
“No,” Zia replied, “Jinnah created Pakistan – not Bakistan. I hope you understand this.”
Though the Zia caliphate had banned the sale of alcohol (especially in mouthwashes and deodorants), he allowed the smoking of grass as long as it enhanced creativity and enlightened the mind (also called the Fried Brain Syndrome).
This act gave birth to a generation of creative and enlightened patriotic scholars (fried brains) who insisted that their hallucinations were not hallucinations but deep insights into the workings of the cosmic and quantum conspiracies against the Mulsim ummah.
It is from this generation of cosmic warriors and fried brains (a compliment, mind you), that great scholars like Zaid-ul-Che Bin Hunk Hamid, Dr. Shahid Doom, Shaheen Sepoy, Sangsar Abbasi, Dr. Aamir Hamakat, Moby Lookman Dick and Ali Azmat-ul-Haq Al-Axel–ul-Rose emerged.
These are the wise men that today are shining through like bright examples for young Bakistanis to follow and fry their brains for the sake of keeping Bakistan safe from the evil eye of Sauron, SpongBob Square Pants and from those who advocate a ban on cow slaughter.
After successfully hooking the populace on eating and smoking grass, Zia continued feeding all sorts of steaks to his generals and scientists, fattening them so they could build a fat nuclear bum that he could ask his fat generals to throw on the fat generals of Hindia.
But, unfortunately, millions of lives on both sides of the divide were spared (what a waste), when the Pakistan military’s C-130 flying camel on which Zia was riding was shot down by a terrorist group of liberal fascists led by Najam Sethi (aka Najam The Jackal).
Only the camel’s hump could be retrieved from the wreckage. It was stuffed with grass and put in the Pakistan Hall of Humps of Fame right beside the stuffed hump of Muhammad Bin Qasim’s camel.
Zia’s glorious, pious and manly caliphate was replaced by the rule of a woman. Yes, a woman!
She was the daughter of Z A. Bruto. Her name was Benazir Bruto. And she didn’t like grass. It was an outrage!
So she was thrown out by the gallant remnants of Zia led by General Hamid Bull and Ghulam Miswaq Khan and replaced with Zia’s blue-eyed, figurative blond, Mian Sipah-e-Nawazul Sharif.
Though wanting to become Ameerul Momineen (the plentiful commander of the poverty-stricken faithful), he too was thrown out for corruption when he wished to get a hair transplant on his head instead of his face. It was an outrage!
As the fat generals continued playing silly rotating games with Nawazul and Bruto, the people continued to chomp on grass.
But one day the fat scientists, led by lover of North Korean opera, Dr. Kim Qadeer Godzilla, finally managed to make the fat nuclear devise that Z A. Bruto and then Ziaul had worked so hard for. But it was Nawazul who got to explode it.
The rise of Ram Raj in Hindia in the late 1990s and subsequently, of the Bharatiya Bum Party led by Utter Bihari Veggie-Pie, saw Hindia conduct five nuclear explosions (to alleviate poverty and make India shine from the brilliant glow of the beautiful mushroom cloud the blasts produced).
Nawazul was enjoying his second stint as PM when the Hindians test-exploded their bums.
Nawazul replied by test-exploding not one, not two, not three but 6 bums! A fact he has repeated approximately 6000 times in his last six rallies.
He then celebrated the event by allowing common Bakistanis to feast on the grass and tree leaves in the gardens of his lush Raiwind state.
But while Nawazul was making well-fed goats out of the beoble, his steak-loving generals decided to add some radiation to their steaks. This made them even fatter and feel like superheroes, enough to want to conquer Hindia.
Nawazul’s general, General Puppu Musharraf, secretly sent groups of Bakistani military men dressed in sheep’s clothing deep into those parts of the Islamic Republic of Kashmir that were occupied by the forces of Bollywood.
Nawazul was livid. He wasn’t told of the plan: “I am livid!” He shouted. “I wasn’t told of the plan.”
As Bakistani soldiers, posing as beefy mujahidin in sheep’s clothing were fighting it out with the forces of Bollywood being led by Dev Anand and the ghost of Dark Lord of the Sith, Amresh Puri, Nawazul was livid. He wanted the invasion to stop: “I am livid” he shouted. “I want the invasion to stop.”
Also livid was US president, Billy Gaga. “I am livid!” He told Nawazul. “You guys won’t even be able to afford grass after this!”
It was a disaster. Not only did the Bakistani soldiers-cum-mujahideen-cum-sheep-to-the-slaughter retreat from the Islamic Republic of Kashmir, they were pounded by loud Bollywood group dances and terrible item numbers.
Nawazul was removed in a military coup by General Puppu Musharraf.
He was livid.
After getting bored with Hindia (now that Bakistan too had a bum), general Puppu began playing a double-neck-guitar with the gringos.
But the Bakistani beoble had begun to ask why they had to eat grass now that Bakistan had made the bum.
Perturbed by such unpatriotic questions, General Puppu began fattening some beefy extremists while eliminating some skinny ones just so the gringos would keep his army fat.
To do this it was vital that the beoble continued to eat grass.
“For national interest,” he said. “Fat terrorists good, skinny terrorists bad. Strategic depth, baby”.
This silly out-of-its-depth strategy that someone saw fat terrorists helping Bakistan conquer Afghanistan and maybe even the whole of Central Asia, continued even after General Puppu was forced to resign by hordes of lawyers suffering from peptic ulcers.
They had blamed the grass that was being sold to the beoble by the Puppu regime as the main cause of their ulcers. They were led in this crusade by Batman.
Batman had been banished by General Puppu when he wanted to issue an Ajjinomoto notice against Puppu because he thought he was being served steak that was of a lesser quality than the one being served to Puppu.
His Robins in black coats, however, thought it was all about the equable and judicious distribution of good quality grass. They were livid. It was an outrage.
After the 2008 AD election, the BBB, now under the leadership of the captain of the Swiss mountaineering team, Asif Ali Zardari Bruto, returned to power.
Promising people better quality grass, Zardari’s regime was denounced as being treacherous and beyghairat (dishonorable) when it accepted the gringo aid package under the Kerry-Lugar-Alpha-Beta-Gamma Bill.
The Bill advised the regime to share at least some of the steaks served to the military with at least some of the beoble at least. At least. Livid. Outrage.
“How dare they?” Thought a general, while gazing at his navel and listening to old Malika Pukraj songs on an antique gramophone. And then, as if magically and overnight, this thought became the slogan of a number of ghariratmand (honorable) media persons, opposition parties and supermen and shaheens.
After the Hindians, gringos became our newest enemies. Enemies of our ghairat and sovereignty. They had to be defeated with our sense of ghairat, our TV anchors, national songs, friendly fat terrorists and most of all, our proud grass chomping masses.
Grass eating has become a national duty for the common citizens of Bakistan. Anybody promising anything better is, of course, to be looked at with suspicion and a proudly-paranoid-patriotic disposition. Otherwise lividly and an outrageously.
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