“Allah’s blessing on thee, pacified natives!” I greeted them formally. “Canst thou direct us to the nearest soda parlor..??”

•

The bird-nest man started convulsively, spilling the boot, and babbled, “Blessings be upon your house and may your camel never have the runs, oh beauteous houris of the great Satan..!”

The teapot man nodded spastically and wiped his nose on his partner’s long gray beard, his own obviously being unsuitable for the purpose: “I also am wishing to add that we know nothing of these Weapons of Massive Destruction, we are but simple farmers...”

“So true, simple farmers is what we are, indeed,” chattered the birdnest man. “Unfortunately our crops were destroyed in the bombing - hooray US of A, down with whazzizname!”