Memo from Mohamed: Obama Welcomes 'Terrorist-Lite' Muslims

Once upon a time, in a posh office high above the streets of an un-identified Mid-Eastern city, Mohamed, director of al Qaeda’s home office, hits the speed dial on his NSA-shielded cell phone.

Rinnnnng, Rinnnnng, Rinnnnng

“Hello Rahneesh? It’s Mohamed. No, not Muhammad. It’s me, Mo, from the home office.”

“You get my memo?”

“Uh-huh. Uh-huh.”

“No, it’s not a joke! Our great friend Barack offers open-door immigration for Muslims. But only if we were just a little bit affiliated with terrorists. You know, terrorist-lite. Like beer commercial.”

In this June 29, 2010 file photo, President Barack Obama meets with Saudi Arabia's King Abdullah in the Oval Office of the White House in Washington. (AP Photo/Ron Edmonds, File)

“Whoops! I forgot. Not supposed to use the 'T' word. Camel-dung-for-brains people in Great Satan country tell everyone to use politically correct, kissy-face description like ‘freedom fighters’ or ‘soldiers of liberty.’ Whatever.”

“Uh-huh. Uh-huh.”

“Sure thing Rahneesh, you qualify for immigration into United States as long as you make cross-your heart vow about how you were innocent bystander and got swept up in protest mob, but never shouted angry words or carried a sign or burned American flag."

"You make double-pinky promise you only watch bomb assembly, but never, ever make one explode. You know, give big pitch about how you are gentle, law-abiding citizen. Never make trouble.”

Credit: Majid Saeedi/Getty Images

“Uh-huh. Uh-huh.”

“Three missing fingers? No problem. Just tell little lie about how jackals bit off your fingers when you were defending village children. Donkey-brain infidels go mushy over sob stories. No children? No village? No records? No problem!”

“OK. Gotta run. Praise be to our great friend Barack. Bye. Bye.”

Mo speed dials another number.

Rinnnnng, Rinnnnng, Rinnnnng

“Hello Abdul? It’s Mohamed. No, not THAT Muhammad. It’s me, Mo, from the home office.”

“You get my memo?

“Uh-huh. Uh-huh.”

“No, it’s not a joke!”

“Uh-huh. Uh-huh.”

“You are liking the persecution angle? Go for it. Worked for boys from Chechnya. Parents tell sad story about persecution in home country. Boo! Hoo! They receive asylum, food stamps, welfare, education, medical care, and kitchen supplies to make pressure cooker bombs.”

Photo illustration courtesy of author.

“Uh-huh. Un-huh.”

“Our great friend Barack promises that immigrants to his America will be greeted and treated like beloved relatives. Best of all, his open-door policy saves us millions of dinars. Is super-duper cost effective and slam-dunk easy to clear immigration at New York airport instead of hiking across Arizona desert and maybe step on rattlesnake or fall into arroyo.”

“Uh-huh. Uh-huh.”

[sharequote align="center"]Our friend Barack promises entitlements for immigrants, no matter if true or false, legal or illegal[/sharequote]

“Okie doakie. Good idea to bring little cousins. Our great friend Barack promises extra food stamps for whole families, extra big housing allowance, free medical care, free education, and free hot lunches, just like for all immigrants. He is 100 percent equal opportunity guy."

"Plus, little girl cousins learn western style sewing and make suicide vest for big KABOOM when dear uncle martyr goes to Muhammad.”

Mo speed dials another number.

Rinnnnng, Rinnnnng, Rinnnnng

“No. Not to me, Mo, at home office. I mean Muhammad in big home office in paradise.”

“Uh-huh. Uh-huh.”

“By the way, Hamid needs expense report if you want reimbursement to replace blown-up tent, bomb-making equipment, and goats.”

“Uh-huh. Uh-huh.”

“Doesn’t matter. Even if your assembly team stupidly detonates bomb and KABOOMS everyone in camp, accounting still needs receipts. Company policy. No report. No dinars.’”

“OK. Gotta run. Praise be to our great friend Barack. Bye. Bye.”

Mo crosses fifteen names off his Martyr Memo Board, picks up the phone, and speed dials.

Rinnnnng, Rinnnnng, Rinnnnng

“Hello Rahneesh? It’s Mohamed. No, not THAT Muhammad. It’s me, Mo, from the home office.”

“Listen, I got good news. You’re up for tomorrow.”

“Uh-huh. Un-huh.”

A Lebanese army solider inspects the damages of a vehicle after a suicide bomber blew himself up in a passenger van in the Choueifat district southern Beirut, Lebanon, Monday, Feb. 3, 2014.  (AP Photo/Bilal Hussein)

“Abdul’s donkey-brain bomb builders accidentally blew whole camp to smithereens. Yeah, everybody except Abdul. He was off site getting’ a latte. But, look on the bright side, his guys now party hardy with virgins in paradise. You’ll join ‘um tomorrow. Lucky you!”

“Got your vest all packed and ready to go? Good! Gotta run. Praise be to our great friend Barack.”

“Allah Akbar.”

P.S. Want a little more snark in your day? Additional fables are posted on Molli’s blog, www.grannyguerrillas.com. You’ll enjoy the picture-filled story about Prince Hope-n-change and his ascension to the throne. A former publisher, Time-Life editor, motivational speaker, and six-times published author, Molli also is a book doctor and helps writers become published authors at www.getpublishednow.biz  She tweets @grannyguerrilla.

Feature Photo Credit: Illustration provided by author.

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