dumb and nasty 5



Down in the bowels of the Métro de Paris, which are nearly evacuated at this eleventh hour, a little turd of a man passes apprehensively.  He mutters to you, dear [REDACTED], the reader:

“I am Charlie Hebedo.  Yes, it is a problem.  Wait a moment.


Pahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh- [cough, cough, cough, COUGH]!

This is good [REDACT].  It was scored by my Turkish friend from Germany, Otto Nalim.

Where was I?  Oh, yeah: People always ask me if I publish that [REDACTED] satire magazine.  I am all for [REDACTED] free speech but I am NOT that [REDACTED] guy.  And now something [REDACTED] has happened today…”

Charlie Hebedo is passing UN PAYS DE FRUITS, a fruit vending stand, and glances at the newspaper display where the daily MERDE LIBÉRAL headline reads:





Charlie Hebedo continues musing:

“…and now I am in [REDACTING] deep [REDACT]!”

Charlie Hebedo does not know how long he wanders in the Métro de Paris.  He now finds himself at a “ghost station” no longer served by trains.  On the platform is a dog sitting on his haunches, tied to a roller-suitcase.  Charlie Hebedo paces around the dog, continuing his muttering:

“..only a year ago my [REDACTED] New Year’s Resolution to find a job came amazingly true.  In the alley outside the nightclub, where I was [REDACTING] a drunken underage girl, a man calling himself ‘Dice’ Dagan approached me and said that he had been [REDACTING]-off watching me and the drunken underage girl and that he was from “The Institute”, the Israeli Mossad, and he wanted to pay me to pretend to be on the payroll of Mossad.  It was too good to be true even for a [REDACTING] libérale de gauche like myself.  I asked this mister [REDACTED] “Dice Dagan” to prove that he represented Mossad.  Well, then that [REDACTING] [REDACTED] grabbed the [REDACTING] drunken underage girl and he shoved her [REDACTED] head against the bricks and split her [REDACTING] head open and [REDACTING] scooped out a handful of her [REDACTED] brains and [REDACTING] ate them!  Then he said to me ‘This is how you will now operate. Otherwise someone will eat your brain!’.  [REDACTED] [REDACTING] [REDACTED] [REDACTED]!!  But it was a job so I agreed to it.”

The dog, around whom Charlie Hebedo had been fuming in a circle, speaks:

“My name is Wok.”

Charlie Hebedo stops and stares at the dog like the dog is the Burning Tush of Moses and he asks:

“Walk?  Like ‘Walk the Dog’?”

Wok the Dog replies:


“Something like that.”

Charlie Hebedo asks:

“Who are you waiting for?  This is a [REDACTING] ‘ghost station’.  There is no longer a train here.”

Wok the Dog replies:

“This is where President Obama arrives when he shows support for France the oldest friend of the U.S.  But my new Muslim family said that there would be many ghosts along soon enough.  My original owner, ‘Nice’ Nagan, needed money for his website ASS-Friction.cum, and so he sold me online to a Malaysian Muslim husband and wife, Bhang and Khum.  This suitcase to which I’m leashed has dog food cans packed with old C4 explosives that were left by the Americans in Afghanistan.  My new Muslim family said that they left me here to meet some guy named [REDACTED], May Allah’s Blessings Be Upon Him, and his 72 virgin boys.  ”

Charlie Hebedo comments:

“That’s a match made in Paris, eh?”

Wok agrees, nodding:

“A Paris match.  Say, did you hear anything about what happened today,…?  I’m sorry, but you haven’t told me your name.”

Charlie Hebedo says:

“Well, that’s because you’re a [REDACTING] dog.  And NO, I don’t know what the [REDACT] is going on.  And why the [REDACT] can you talk?  Where are you from?”

Wok the Dog replies:

“I was genetically engineered by the C.I.A.  Originally, I was a ‘Rape Dog’ used in Afghanistan to interrogate enemy prisoners.  Oddly, they didn’t want me to talk to the prisoners until afterward when we were cuddling.  It really seemed to work.  The C.I.A. passed me around to their friends, to friends of their friends, to enemies of their enemies, until I got lost.  It was all [REDACTING] work to me but you could say I was a Doggie with Style.”

Charlie Hebedo suddenly says to Wok the Dog:

“Hey, do you want to get the [REDACT] out of here?  Even this ‘ghost station’ must close soon.  We can go to my apartment.  It’s nearby:  42 Rue de Rue.  We can talk in the open salon.  The big fancy chairs and couches all are on the left.”

Wok the Dog asks:

“What’s on the right?”

Charlie Hebedo:

“A big fancy mirror.”

Wok the Dog:

“What’s in the middle?”

Charlie Hebedo:

“The people who pay taxes.”

Wok the Dog wonders:

“What about this roller-suitcase full of C4 that I am leashed to?”

Charlie Hebedo says:

“We’ll [REDACTING] figure it out when we’re out of here.”

Up and outside the Métro de Paris there arrives the last bus of the night.  Charlie Hebedo and Wok the Dog dragging his roller-suitcase full of C4 board the bus.  It is full of Muslim school children being evacuated from LAÏCITÉ MADRASA MUSLIM ELEMENTARY SCHOOL.  Charlie Hebedo and Wok the Dog dragging his roller-suitcase full of C4 shuffle down the aisle and sit in the very back.  Then Charlie Hebedo and Wok the Dog get off of the bus at the next stop.  Charlie Hebedo says:

“Well, that [REDACTING] solves that!”

Charlie Hebedo and Wok the Dog continue onward to 42 Rue de Rue.  But 42 Rue de Rue is not there!  Charlie Hebedo and Wok the Dog look from 41 Rue de Rue to 43 Rue de Rue and back to 41 Rue de Rue again and again.  Wok the Dog finally says:

Doug Adams says 42 is ‘The Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, The Universe, and Everything’.”

Then a white cat and a black cat appear.  Charlie Hebedo says:

“That is Tic and Toc!  They are the two cats of my landlady, Alysa LaSainte.”

Tic and Toc speak to Wok the Dog the alternate words of one sentence together:













Tic and Toc then both sit back on their haunches and gaze blissfully out at the infinity of your mind, dear reader.  Charlie Hebedo whispers with awe to Wok the Dog:

“They look like two Buddhas nearing Nirvana.”

Wok the Dog observes with his nose:

“Yes.  They are both taking a big [REDACT].”






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