The 27 Virgins
Really rather long ago, in a time where peoples' attention spans were too short to estimate length of time, there was a myth.
It was said that the tellers of epic tales would have unto them a mighty fortune bestowed in heaven, along with 27 virgins.
And so the message was spread, and thousands of humans filled the land with traditional gypsy vans and weird bardic slaves with harps to accompany them on their long journey through time and space, (well, in their stories anyway) and to always vaguely suggest homoeroticism in a really quite unsubtle manner.
But this isn't a story about them. Oh no. This is a story within a story within a story about them.
Chapter 1: Probably the only chapter in the article
A!hk'kbhkde the rather "eccentric", unliked and overall unsuccessful suicide bomber had a plan. Another plan. Surely it would get him into heaven to his 27 virgins. He at this point would have exchanged some kind of bizarre, incoherent, phallic dialogue, but noone ever talked to him.
He was in a van. With this van he planned to pull up outside a busy restaurant and blow himself up along with the people inside. It was surely an ingenius plan; if only he hadn't painted his van in pink camo, with the words "Active terrorist (ps. will smoke penis for lunch money)" written on the side in big, green scrawls.
Well, there's always a flaw, right?..
...there probably wouldn't have been one, though.
Anyway, he nonetheless pulled up somehow outside the restaurant having only been pulled out of his van, beaten, arrested, sued and raped thirteen times.
The air froze.
He knew the moment was about to be upon him (like those friendly officers).
This was it...
...he pressed the button.
Fire rained down...
...on the inside of the tank.
As A!hk'kbhkde burnt to death, the world passed on by peacefully. A bird fluttered by. Something probably got pollinated.
"GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! AAH! GHAA! GH! HNN! UU! MN! XF! KBL! IIP! PK! OON! B! AA! AB! AC! AD! AAAAAAAAAAAAAA... AE! AF! AG! AH! A! OWW! OW," he cried, "OUCH!"
The next thing A!hk'kbhkde saw was a desk on a cloud with a picture of himself dying on it. A man was sitting at it, tapping on a computer, whistling nonchalantly. The desk also had "LOL" written on it in invisible ink.