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An Aegyptian Sun

Dual

Dual

RIP Karl 1991-2014
The odour of massed humanity permeated every inch, exasperated by the broiling glare of the star, so close above. Even the shade burned, but he was accustomed to it. The alleyways were darker and ever quieter than the Qāhiran mese. Back streets carry their own dangers, doubtless, but for some, they are sanctuary. Abu Husayn Omar al-Rashid ibn Hasan ibn Fatima aal-Ashraf was one of these.
 
The Sharif had been walking for hours. The rendezvous was all important, and Hasan ibn Ali couldn't be kept waiting. Hasan was a dangerous man, and Omar knew that though they were brothers forged in blood, Hasan wouldn't hesitate to eliminate him if it became convenient. Ever pragmatic, Hasan. The click of steps on the ancient cobblestone alley was audible to the side. Alarmed, Omar spun about just in time to catch a glimpse of a street child disappearing behind a wall five metres back. Qahira was a dangerous place. Still gazing back, he sensed somebody. Somebody, but who? A frozen panic for a second. There was a presence immediately behind his back, and it could all be over.
 
A hand grasped Omar's shoulder. Familiar ruby ring. "My brother, I have waited for you. Let us go inside and talk."

A surge of relief passed through Omar. Had it been one of the lower order, his body might have been just another corpse rotting in the heat. Hasan led the sharif into an old building, two stories high. An inn, and not of the type one of Omar's status would visit. Nor one of Hasan's, for that matter.
 
At the door stood a stocky man, obviously concealing an automatic rifle. Omar had never been comfortable in these situations. Recognising Hasan, the guard bowed and stepped aside, muttering a greeting. With one step over the threshold, Omar entered a nest of villainy; a hive of scum. The inn was a front, of course. Inside, prostitution, alcohol, gambling, and every other variety of crime went on. No respectable man would be seen here, and if Omar, a respectable Sharif was sighted, it would be absolutely scandalous. Fortuitously, all of these men were locked into silence by their own skeletons.
 
"My brother, come to me!" Hasan shouted from atop the staircase. Without waiting for Omar, who had stopped for a drink, Hasan continued into the hallway above, hearing the typical sounds of a brothel. Thuds, moans, screams. The end of the hall, and the chosen room. Inserting his key into the lock, Hasan entered and saw the three. The anointed one, the mercenary, and the occidental turncoat.
 
Hasan, the logistician of the group, took his seat between Khalid Sheikh Mohammed, anointed (or so he claimed) of Arabia and Yu Li, the Han mercenary. Hasan had never trusted Li. Mercenaries were always subject to change masters with the drop of a coin, and this was something none of the men in the room would forget, least of all Li himself. Covered in prison tattoos and large as a giant of old, Li cut an imposing figure. A crescent scar dominated the left half of his face, running from his eye to the bottom of his chin. A dark blue.
 
Across the table sat the traitor of the west; a man of consummate dignity in his home land. His presence at this meeting would destroy the gray haired gentleman if it were to be exposed. He had arrived by air; a westerner in so finely tailored a suit would not long survive in the alleyways of Qahira. Underneath his heavy brows, his face betrayed itself. Pensive anxiety, now interrupted by the door swinging open again. Omar's figure, clothed in his sharif's robes of flowing, clean white, stood in the door. What had this imbecile been thinking? Surely he realised that the robes of a noble would garner unwanted attention in parts such as this, where the man on the street wore the same tattered rags for years. If Omar risked only himself, it wouldn't have mattered, but Omar was essential.
 
my gerl friend :
burka-sexy.jpg


some time i cheat on her wit her 7 yr old sister. me, like great Prophet Muhammad, have gr8 taste in womans.
 
Waiting for the cadre of Jedi to bust through the skylight with Batman, bust up the joint and force choke secret information out of Omar and Hasan, only to have to fight with Yu Li who concealed himself during the initial melee only to surprise the Jedi and Batman at the critical moment of information extraction, thus enabling Omar to escape but Hasan gets force tripped goes head first into a tank of piranha and dies. Long fight sequence with Yu Li ends with surpise revelation of the Joker and Vader working together after the death of Bin Leden at the hands of the Joker.
 
I've only ever read Khufu's Wisdom cover-to-cover. It can be hard to find most of his stuff, even though he's a Nobel Prize winner - probably because he wrote all of his stuff in Egyptian Arabic. Anything you can find by him should be good, though.
 
Richard Cheney crawled within his wrinkled skin. Sitting uncomfortably on the stone bench, his senses, so used to the sterile world of the west's chambers of government, were disgusted by the smells and sounds of this... stable. Dubya would love it here, thought Dick. That boy always was fond of this kinda shit. Now this raghead Arab was stumbling forward... Dick looked disgusted as he realised Omar was going to sit next to him. Fucking great.
 
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