Graphic By: Tim Tuley

The Main Event
| Published 04/30/04

It's finally happened. While you were there in your living room watching oiled men in thongs beat the snot out of each other to theater blocking, the most epic vendetta in the last two millennia was declared:

God has declared war against the United States and Israel. Or so Hamas says.

You heard it here first folks. Sheik Ahmed Yassin; the "Quadriplegic Crusher", the "Pakistani Patty", and certified head of the Hamas Spiritual Nation (HSN) was put to a final rest last week. "The Crusher" challenged Ariel "the Canon" Sharon of Israel's Holy Land Family (HLF) to a no-holds-barred steel tank match. But it seems Sharon feared "The Patty" so badly he took the fight out of the ring and ended Yassin with a missile straight to the heart of his Apache helicopter.

Little Hamasters everywhere were frothing at the mouth with anger over Sharon's underhanded tactics. Now there's no fight to watch. Now there are no tickets to sell. Is this the end of the Hamas Spiritual Nation and their reign of Islamic terror?

"Don't despair now my little Hamasters," these were the words from Hamas' Chief, Abdel Aziz Rantisi, holding aloft the Middle Eastern Region Heavyweight Belt. "The Canon's cowardly ousting of the Crusher will not stand, but we need to start at the root of the problem. The root of the Canon's power lies over the river..."

The crowd starts clapping.

"And through the woods..."

They start waving assault rifles and screaming wildly.

"To George Bush's house we go!"

Yes it seems that "The Terror" Rantisi has put aside his predecessors interest in Israel for the time being in favor of a bigger fish. "I've known for a long time that the HLF's power had to be coming from a source and on Friday Night's Holy Slamdown that wellspring runs dry!"

"YES!!! FRIDAY, FRIDAY, FRIDAY!!!!"

God's booming voice is heard over the mental loudspeaker of devotees around the world.

"COME TO JIHAD CENTRAL AND RESERVE YOUR SEAT TODAY FOR THE EPIC BATTLE OF ETERNITY. WHO HAS MY FAVOR? NO ONE WILL KNOW WHO DOESNT PAY...PAY...PAY!!!"

The spiritual equivalent of a "cha-ching" sound enters everyone's head for the briefest of seconds.

"SEE AS MY HOLY WARRIORS MEET ON THE FIELD OF BATTLE AND BLOOD...IS...SPILLED! AND IN THE MAIN EVENT, THE BATTLE YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR: IT'S GEORGE "THE BABYFACE" BUSH VERSUS RANTISI, HAMAS' TOWERING TITAN OF TERROR. YOU WILL BE THERE, OR ELSE..."

There is a pause in heads across the globe. All wait for God's final ultimatum.

"OR ELSE BE...SOMEWHERE...ELSE!!!"

Dick Cheney swivels his oval office chair to the side where Bush sits on his footstool.

"You knew about this, didn't you Georgie?"

"Nuh unh!" Bush shakes his head so hard that spittle spatters the American flag and Cheney's spectacles. "I'm the last one to know about everything."

Little George crosses his hand and pouts as Cheney picks up the red phone.

"Well, there's only one man to call at a time like this," Cheney says with a sigh.

And halfway across the globe, God picks up the phone.

"HELLO? AHH, DICK. GOOD TO HEAR FROM YOU. IT'S BEEN SO LONG SINCE WE'VE LAST TALKED. I WAS AFRAID THE COMPETITION WAS GOING TO GET YOU BEFORE I GOT TO SAY BYE. SO HOW ARE THE WIFE AND...OH, YOU WANT TO TALK TO HIM?"

God emits a sigh like mountains groaning, dawn breaking, and tectonic plates settling all at the same time.

"DON IT'S FOR YOU."

Don King snatches the phone from God's hand.

"About friggin' time. But that's okay," King says with his hand muting the receiver.

"Heh heh, all according to plan."