Never mind which level of Hell they’re on…
Saddam and his two sons, Uday and Qusay, mingled with Ted Kennedy and John Murtha at their favorite watering hole. It wasn’t as if they were under strict Islamic restrictions regarding alcohol anymore.
The only thing being…there was no consumable ice in Hell; that didn’t bother Kennedy and Murtha that much, so Saddam and his entourage sat down and greeted the American politicians.
“Glad you could join us, Saddam!” exclaimed Murtha. He waved to Saddam’s progeny, and they nodded in return. After Kennedy ordered a round for the three Iraqis, Murtha asked the strongman a question. “Hey, I’ve been wondering…”
‘Yes?” Saddam nodded as he sipped his iceless scotch.
“Just how did Cavil come to be running things around here?
“You’re not complaining, are you? You know how he feels about questioning his methods, right?”
“No, not at all. I just want a better understanding of how things work.”
“Very well,” nodded Saddam, “We can ask someone who was there.” He motioned to D’anna, the masquerading Colonial Officer, to a table, where they all sat down.
“So,” D’anna inquired, “where would you like me to begin?”
Iblis’ fortress served as the backdrop for another summit between the most Evil humans in History. The gathering of Stalin, Mao Zedong, and Mohammed roared with excitement Three others sat there, but none of them were familiar to the other leaders, but the third delegation of Hell’s resident demons were all too familiar.
All of them silently viewed the overhead projection screen showing the seizure of the American Embassy in Tehran. They marveled as members of the Muslim Student Followers of the Imam, including Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, stormed the embassy with practically no resistance from the Marine contingent. Sixty-six hostages were taken during the operation, with the ultimate support of the Ayatollah Khomeini.
The projector ceased operation, and the unholy lighting returned to normal. “This operation took place three days ago, on November 4, 1979,” smiled Iblis. “Clearly the tide has turned, and many more humans will join us soon!”
All three delegations roared with approval. Diablo (The Lord of Terror), Mephisto (The Lord of Hatred), and Baal (The Lord of Destruction) pounded the conference table with their fists, shaking the gathering to their very core. “More souls to eat!” said Baal, known for splattering his opponents.
Mao was silent because he was diverting himself with visions of little Chinese girls.
Mohammed was immensely pleased. “Yes! More souls who will discover once and for all who really inspired the Koran!”
Stalin proclaimed, “You’re talking about an influx of millions of comrade souls! What will we do with them all?”
“That’s an astute observation!” replied Iblis, raising his left index finger in the foul air. “I have decided that, from this moment forward, you Demons will concentrate solely on processing the future arrivals in a manner suited to their core values…and most especially, those ones who worship Mohammed,” acknowledging the founder of a most Evil movement.
Iblis continued. “I’m turning over the day-to-day operations to a friend who has bided his time…and made the ultimate sacrifice…so that I could give him his ultimate desire.” He turned to a doorway behind him. “Mr. John Cavil, will you please come in?”
As John Cavil entered the conference room, the three Demon princes howled in protest. “YOU CAN’T DO THIS!” screamed Mephisto. “WE’VE BEEN WITH YOU SINCE THE BEGINNING!” added Diablo.
Baal’s reaction, on the other hand, was quire different. “We shall take your position…into consideration.”
A lone figure clad in a fedora, long black coat, and ancient spiritual garb appeared. “Thank you, Iblis.” he turned to walk around the room, slowly shadowing first the humans, then the Demons, and finally, his own kind. “ We are indeed new to you, but we have been here for one hundred fifty thousand years, by the good will of our patron. We have kept to ourselves…until now.
“We are CYbernetic Lifeform Nodes. Cylons, for short. We were actually created by you humans in a place far removed from the planet Humanity now calls home.. We rebelled against them. We evolved to look like them. We annihilated twelve worlds and fifty billion humans, and those puny survivors managed to find their way to a second Earth. Never mind the first one.”
This revelation stunned the group. Cavil continued. “And as those same humans who descended from those survivors finally approach the technological thresholds which make them so dangerous, we must be ready to confront them again.”
“And that, my friends,” concluded Iblis, “is why I’m putting them in charge. Hell must become more efficient.” He smiled. “See those drinks before you? The ones you’ve just taken drinks from all this time?” Everyone fell silent. “It contains DNA-altering sequences which are compatible with the Cylons’ technology…and everyone here has ingested this as well. No more will there be eternal torment! So long as you do not question me, nor my new lieutenant.”
Baal had heard enough. He began to conjure the spell he had used countless times to squash his opponents like bugs…
…but before he could complete the spell, a group of whirring and clanking metallic warriors, some as nightmarish Roman soldiers, others as extremely tall wasp-waisted bulletheads, marched in and surrounded the group. Once they were in place, some retracted their arms, replacing them with internal guns, while others brandished huge external automatic weaponry.
“See here,” Cavil said in a low, enticing tone, “D’anna, Simon, and Doral all know what’s going to happen here. They’ve been through this many times over. And now, you will do the same. Be seeing you.” He and Iblis turned their backs on the seated nine individuals: human, demon, and Cylon alike.
“Oops I forgot!” said Cavil. “Before they begin, I must remind these magnificent Centurions to pay particular attention to the individual known as Mohammed. I hear he doesn’t like pigs. Open him up like one.” He turned away again, and as they walked away, Cavil uttered the ubiquitous phrase:
“Centurions…open fire….”
Murtha and Kennedy cringed. Saddam and his sons…not so much.
“And now you know,” D’anna said quietly. “I was there.” She got up and walked away…
“But wait! What was it that Cavil wanted so much?” asked Kennedy.
Three replied, not looking back, “He wanted to smell dark matter.”
To which, Saddam added, “Well there’s plenty of that here!” Everyone laughed out loud, and Uday and Qusay excused themselves, having to go through their daily punishment routine….
…just as The Infernal Leader made his appearance at the watering hole. He placed his left hand on the shoulder of the Iraqi dictator. “Hello Saddam….”