Is it funny story?
عيسى قاسم
Publish Date: 11 Jul 2019

Alhawadeth Media

 

Is it funny story?

Isa Qasim

I can always tell, when I meet with Mr. Voyager, if he had something interesting to relate. His smile often tells a lot. Well, today we hardly sat down for our coffee when he started.

'I have just finished reading an interesting, nay funny, story', he said, and proceeded relating what he had read, and I listened without interruption:

There is this guy, an impostor, who had been running from one place to another, until he came to a beautiful, nice and attractive house surrounded with a wonderful garden, full of all kinds of flowers, fruit trees and olive trees. Its owners called it Paradise. He looks around and decides that that was the place he had been looking for a long time. That's it. He wanted it. But what if the owners didn't want to sell?

Well, who said this impostor wanted to buy? This, Mr. Impostor had a dream and in the dream God gave it to him. So, he had to have the means that enable him to get hold of Paradise. He is well seasoned in chicanery, deceit , playing tricks, etc. He got hold of some rich and influential people who provided him with all the means needed, mainly weapons.

One quiet night, Mr. Impostor, armed with a machine gun and ammunition, entered Paradise and shot the owner who was asleep. He took hold of the house and the family of the owner ran away. They had no place of their own to resort to. They became refugees. But never did the owner's children forget their Paradise. They never gave up.

But, Mr. Impostor wanted to settle the dispute. He decided to compensate those who are supposed to inherit the property. So, he held a great, joyous party and in front of all, dignitaries and so, with music playing, he, loudly and proudly, recounted the compensation items. Everybody looked, interested.

The compensation items: Twenty dollars’ worth of bagels, two bottles of coca cola, half a pound of peanuts and a nice new motor cycle.

The music continued and everybody got drunk. By the way, the children of the deceased owner did not attend.

That was the deal of the century. I mean the SLAP of the Century.

Mr. Voyager's smile was rife with more things to tell when we left.

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