Not Without My Slaughter

"But Moody I was just trying to..." I plead.

"Be quiet! I am trying to raise our daughter up to be a proper Muslim, and you are a bad influence upon her! Perhaps I will just have you stoned to death in the village square for the heinous crime of annoying your husband!"

"Mommy, I'm scared..." my daughter cries, clinging to the folds of my skirt.

"I know, sweetie. Everything is going to be allright," I whisper.

"Ha! I think not," Moody laughs. "It's time for me to pound some Muslim sensibilities into both of you! Hahahaha!!"

"No! Do whatever you want with me, but do not harm the child!" I beg.

But as Moody raises his hand to strike, suddenly an Apache helicopter comes down, slicing his head off with its rotating blades. Arnold Schwartzenegger jumps out, wearing only camo pants and boots. His chest ripples with sweaty, shimmering muscles.

"I am here to rescue you and the child," he says. "Your daughter is the only one who can save humanity from the future terrorist threat."

"Thank you so much, Governor!" I cry.

Suddenly more terrorists are emerging from every mud hut and sewage ditch. They surge forward, firing AKs at Arnold, but every bullet only bounces off his gleaming muscles. "Don't you understand, Arnold is impervious to damage," Arnold grunts. "Now its time to say hasta la vista, baby!"

He whips a chain gun off his back and yells "EVERYBODY GET DOWN!!! ". The chain gun blazes into life, blowing away dozens and dozens of terrorists, who scream, twitching in mid-air before exploding into showers of blood and organs.

"Aeee!!" shrieks one of the terrorists, leaping athletically to take cover behind some women and children. "It is Arnold! We are doomed!! Doomed!!!"

"Fear not!" yells the terrorist leader. "Jihadis, today we have feasted on our last meal of fried rat and dessicated camel turds. Tomorrow, we shall savor naught but the succulent juices of the finest virgins in Paradise! Whoever kills Arnold shall sit at the right hand of the Prophet himself!"

"Fools, Allah will not save you now, you must pray to Arnold for salvation," Arnold grunts, but he may as well be talking to a brick wall. The terror monkeys surge forward, firing their AKs again. "No escape!" Arnold says. He starts punching the air at faster than the speed of light, causing Megadamage to the very fabric of space-time. His blows rip open a portal to the very depths of Hell, and the hapless terrorists are sucked inside screaming, doomed to an eternity of torment with no recourse to their own religion.

"Thank you so much," I say simply, as Arnold turns to us. "You have saved me and my daughter's life."

"Don't mention it," Arnold says. "Now I must go to punish Iranian president Mahmoud Ahmamadinejad for trying to build a nuke, and then look for some hot-blooded Latinas. If you hope to save the child, you must get your ass to Mars!"

A spaceship lands and the hatch swings open to let me and my daughter inside.

1. I thank Arnold again, gather up my daughter in my arms and hurry toward the spacecraft.
2. "Please let us come with you!" I say. "Me and my daughter can help!"

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