Night Three
For the second time in as many nights, the group of Pakistani men waved their odd piercings at the pile of rocks. Tonight, however, they were joined by a horde of men in suits and what appeared to be a rather large ass.
The latter sat on the pile of rocks and tried to get comfortable, only to have another booming explosion put an end to its attempts at participation.
Pharaohmir is dead. He was The Buttocks, AMCOL Corporation Aligned Nice/Smelly/Fat Ass.
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Elsewhere, the Southern Black Rhino was quietly grazing when some joker ran by and splashed it with water.
To add insult to... well, not injury, but annoyance, another merkin with a machine gun opened up a can of whoop ass on the endangered animal. Only its thick hide prevented it from being brought low and harvested for ivory.
Southern Black Rhinoceros is not dead. It is Southern Black Rhino, Methodist Aligned Endangered Species.
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And, as they rode back towards their base, the Pakistani men found their way blocked by a bunch of dudes in turbans and burkas.
"DERKA DERKA JIHAD!" they shouted.
"Bro," the Pakistani in the lead said, "We're basically cousins".
The terrorists nodded and retreated.
