The Pentagon, Washington, DC 20301
Dear Admiral Mullen,
I’m writing in the hope that you can do Me a little favor. You see, I’ve been getting these strange postcards from a lot of your troops. For instance, CWO Rene Llanos with the 101st in Iraq wrote:
“The soldiers who are patrolling and walking the streets are taking along this [Bible], and they’re using it to minister to the local residents.”
And a Capt. Steve Mickel, a chaplain who believes in proseletyzing on taxpayer time, tells Me that when he can manage to find any live Iraqis they are eager to be converted. He further assures Me that all of your troops, guns and armored vehicles are not a factor. Then there are the numerous postcards from Maj. Freddy Welborn begging me to “smite” someone named Hall. He seems to think I’ll just know who he’s talking about.
So, I mentioned all that to get to this: Tell them to stop. First of all, I’m on vacation and you can be Me-Damned sure I won’t be going anywhere near Iraq until all the shooting stops in a hundred years or so. On top of that, Iraq is Allah’s turf, and even though he’s on vacation too, none of the people around there seem to realize it. So every time your troops or those Blackwater fellows do something the locals aren’t keen on they immediately start swamping Allah with postcards and when he doesn’t bother to answer they strap a few pounds of Semtex on and Blooey! Then, (and this is the bit that chaps My divine butt), Allah comes and complains to Me that they’re all showing up at his hotel wanting him to pimp virgins to them. It’s like a psychological Rube Goldberg device and guess who’s at the end of it? Secondly, while I’ve got no reason at all to bother this Hall person, I do have every reason to open up a can of smite ass on troops who are pushing copies of My unauthorized biography. Believe Me when I sayeth; If this whole thing isn’t a case of running low on toilet paper I shall unleash my lawyers on some ass. Verily.
Wish You Were Here,