This week, Adnan despairs at the dead-end repetitive nature of his job and comes to the conclusion that he should focus his efforts on doing good, rather then the tornado of carnage that him and his ISIS chums have been inflicting on the Middle East:
“Adnan, you are not leaving this house without your black balaclava. Put it on NOW”, yelled mother from upstairs. “No mum, don’t worry, I’m wearing it”, I flippantly retorted loudly. “And my black trousers and black jacket”, I added.
I hate going to work for ISIS in the morning. I mean, why can’t I just get a fun job, but no, it’s the same thing day in day out. “Adnan, go and behead that journalist”, or “Adnan, make sure you bury enough women and children alive today”. Why I didn’t just get a proper job, I’ll never know. Something fun perhaps, like a hairdresser. Hmm, yes I didn’t think that one through. I don’t think I’d trust myself near people with scissors and a cut throat razor.
Most of my friends are either shop workers, teachers, nurses, or even workmen. And I bet none of them ever have to march a platoon of Syrian soldiers in their underpants to an execution site. I BET they don’t. Well, I’m not going to put up with this anymore. I’m going to do good when I go to work. Instead of burn, stab and shoot people and generally disrupt mankind, I’m going to make a difference and do only good things to the people of Iraq, Syria and indeed the world…