At the Inauguration of Hard Rock Café: Kabul

Welcome gentlemen & gentlemen and a few cows and goats of the terrible Taliban era, who after five horrible years of torture and repression have now been turned into what they were before they were turned into tortured cows & goats and that is, WOMEN! (Loud applause … and a few rape attempts). So welcome to this explosive inauguration ceremony of Hard Rock Café: Kabul! I am your host for the evening, John Rambo (More applause, whistles, cheers and loads of aerial firing).

Tonight’s show is being sponsored by General Dostum’s private army which only last night signed a lucrative contract with Pepsi Co. along with President Hamid Karzai who signed an endorsement contract with Cocacola. So let’s give these brave former Northern Alliance Colas … I mean, soldiers a great round of applause for planting the first seeds of free enterprise and democracy in Afghanistan (Applause and popping sounds of hundreds of Pepsi and Coke bottles).

Yes, yes folks, that’s the spirit (BOOM!!) … and those were our gallant B-52 bombers pounding and routing the last remaining Taliban dogs in the suburbs and mountains around Kabul (Loud applause, cheers, cola popping and a few summery executions!).

Ah yes, the spirit of democracy. Anyways, our first guests of the evening are few crossover former Taliban fighters who shall perform the famous Bollywood song, “Chuma, Chuma” with a few liberated cows and goats, who by the way, were helped by a McDonald’s contract to become women again, albeit fat and sweaty (Jeering).

So everybody, please welcome Afghanistan’s first ever pop band, The Northen Colas & The Rocking B-52s (loud applause, cheers, rape attempts and summery executions).

“Chuma, chuma dey-dey, dey-dey chuma! Jumay koh deeya tha surrender ka wada, Afghanistan hooa ab humara aadah … (applause, cheering, etc.)”

Brilliant! That was awesome! (BOOM!) And that was even better. Okay, settle down y’all. Today’s surprise headlining act will be none other than Mulla Omar! (Lots of booing, jeering, fist fights, looting, arson and the backstage summery execution of the Northern Colas & The Rocking B-52s!). Oops! Democracy, brothers, democracy! (More booing, jeering, rape attempts, arson and executions). Colas, brothers, colas (Cheering, applause). Ah yes, that’s the spirit!

Someone from the audience: “Vat:69! Chivas! THAT’S the spirit!” (Loud laughter).

Those shall come too, brothers. But only if you let democracy thrive. Do you know what democracy is?

The audience: “Cola, McDonald’s, Starbucks and spirit, spirit!!” (Cheering).

Well done, well done, people. You’re on your way. So, on with the show. Our next performers are your brothers from Pakistan, Junoon! (Pin drop silence).

Salman Ahmed: “Hey, guys, how you doing? (Pin drop silence). Ahem, right. So, then, on we go. This song we wrote specially for you all. And here it is … 1,2,3,4 …”

Ali Azmat: “ Neend atti nahi, sari saari raat, bumbari hoti rahey from Kabul to Heerat, Cola muj sey kahey kya thu merey saath, main cola sey kahoon pehley ker Dollar ki bath …” (Applause, cheering, sniper firing. Junoon’s bassist Brain gets hit).

Salman: “Oh, well, never mind. Even though he was a Christian, to us he is now a shaheed, right?” ((Pin drop silence). Errm … a crusading, rabid Catholic Christian fundamentalist?! (Cheers, applause, firing, rape attempts, etc.). Right, now that’s the sufi spirit! And remember, brothers, Johnny Walker tastes better with Coke than Pepsi!” (Open firing at Junoon by Dostum’s men. Karzai’s men return fire. Junoon vanish. Dostum and Karzai get on the stage).

Dostum: “Pepsi!”
Karzai: “Coke!”
Dostum: “Pepsi!”
Karzai: “Coke!”
Dostum: “Pepsi!”
Karzai: “Coke!”
“Moooooooooooo …” ( A burqua-clad woman jumps in between the two squabbling men).

Rambo: “Well done cow … I mean, sister lady. Three cheers for Islam and democracy!” (Pin-drop silence). Right. That’s the spirit. By the way, that was Osama bin Laden’s 27th fourth wife! And she tells me she is here to announce her divorce and tell the members of the CIA, ISI and RAW in the audience exactly where Osama is hiding! (Lots of applause, cheers, and a afiery exchange of Molotov cocktails made with Pepsi and Coke bottles between Dostam’s men and Karzai’s men). Peace, brothers, peace. Let the cow …err..lady speak.”
“Moooooooo!”

Rambo: Right. Can anyone translate that for us?”
(An ISI man in the audience stands up): “I can! She said, moooooooooooooo!”

Rambo: Of course she did! But what does it mean in English?”

ISI man: “Nothing. Just moooooooo. This is all women were allowed to say under the Taliban.”

Rambo: “Then how will she tell us where Osama is?”

ISI man: “She wont.”

Rambo: “Why not?”

ISI man: “Because … (BANG! The ISI man shoots the woman).”

Rambo: “What did you do that for?!”

ISI man: “Raw did it!”

A RAW man: “Lies! We only shoot women in Kashmir!”
“Mooooooo ooo…”

Rambo (hysteric): “She’s still alive, she’s still alive! Tell us, tell is, where is Osama hiding?”

Woman: “Mooooooooooo ..ountains”
(Cheering, applause, cola popping, firing, looting, bomb blasts, mine explosions, legs, arms brains and limbs flying!).

Rambo: “What mooooooountians …I mean mountains? Where? Where?”

ISI man: “The same mountains on which you shot down two dozen Soviet planes and tanks in Rambo:III!”

RAW man: “I say, why not make the next Rambo flick in Kashmir?”

Rambo: “Gentlemen, gentlemen, we’re here to enjoy ourselves (Applause, cheering, rocket launchers go off. One hits a nearby UN Mission building. Kofi Anan comes stumbling out with his hair looking like a ‘70s afro on fire. The CIA men take out their wireless sets and run out. BOOM! A B-52 bomber bombs Hard Rock Café: Kabul to kingdom come!).

Rambo (all up in smoke): Sorry guys (Cough! Cough!). A misguided bomb. Y’know, friendly fire. (Plop! Fall down on his face).

A wireless set besides him: “Bleep! Come in Rambo, come in Rambo! Are you okay? Sir, no response. Only a faint sound, major.”

Major’s voice: “What sound, Sargent?”

Sergeant’s voice: “I’m not sure, sir. Here, listen to cafefully…”
“Moooooooooooooooooo”