Never mind which Level of Hell they’re on…Saddam and his two sons stood just outside the Quarantine Section, where all newcomers to the Underworld were initially processed. “It’s a good thing we got here when we did,” said bullet-ridden Qusay.
“Yes,” his father replied, “we don’t want to keep the boss waiting, especially when he informed us there was someone special who just got here.”
It took another fifteen minutes before Saddam’s right-hand man, Ali Hassan al-Majid, was released. “Saddam! My cousin!” He rushed to hug and kiss the man who used to rule Iraq, and also his two sons. He was weeping, but not for joy. “It was horrible! This is not what I was expecting.”
Saddam consoled him. “I know. It is not what you expected. There were 72 of them, and they were virgin Demons with anvil-shaped genitalia, is that right?” His cousin nodded and pointed to the backside of his blood-stained trousers. Saddam continued. “Yes, that is over for you. Now, I am to tell you your daily work assignment.”
“And that is…?” inquired the man who once was known as Chemical Ali.
“Why, it’s obvious!” said Saddam. “You are to be gassed to death every day by those Kurds from Halabja who ended up here. That is why in some circles, this is known as ‘Download City.’”
“I…I don’t understand that,” murmured Ali, now fully realizing where he was.
“I don’t understand that either,” said Saddam. “We’ll have to ask those folks over there who say they are Cylons. Strange that most of them look alike.”