One day a long time ago I went for a walk and met a man with a rag on his head. I called him a raghead, and that made it easier to kill him.

Soon after I went out and met him again. While I was killing him he told me about his religion. It sounded a lot like mine. I didn’t want to have a raghead religion so I changed my religion to make it less like his.

The next time I saw him, he killed me first. It wasn’t a fair fight: he used all sorts of tricks. That got me mad, so I copied his tricks. I didn’t want to learn from a raghead, so I said that I’d learned from the eggheads. The next time we met, I killed him first.

Later I got bored with going out to kill him. So I paid other ragheads to keep him quiet. They got rich while he stayed poor.

Now the raghead says he hates me. I don’t understand why. I tried putting him in prison and torturing him, I tried dropping bombs on him and his family, I still pay good money to have him kept quiet, but he just won’t learn. I told him my name, but even that didn’t help. I think he must be stupid, or evil, or both.

‘Freedom’ is my name, and I love the raghead. I wish the raghead loved me.

Log in or register to write something here or to contact authors.