Next thing I know, I'm on the top floor, open-air balcony of a building I've never seen before. I've got blood running all down my face, my jaw hurts, and I can't see out of my left eye. About the time that I notice that I'm really hungry, hungry like I haven't eaten for a couple days, I'm brought a bag of rice and some water by what looks like a young Arabic soldier (basically some kid in jeans and a tshirt, with his face covered up with a scarf, dark skin, semitic hair, and an AK47). After I've eaten what I could for a couple minutes, the same kid comes back and drags me into a room where I'm forced to watch pro-Palestine propaganda films. While I'm coming to my senses, I look around and realize that I'm in the downstairs room of my parents' house, which is now the headquarters for some Palestinian terrorist organization. I remembered that there was a phone jack behind some furniture that looks like it hasn't been moved in years. "Maybe they don't know it's there," I thought. Sure enough, there it was, still with my old favorite rotary phone attached. 911 is a blocked number, and I can't get through. But I called up my father, and told him what's going on. My dad walks in, unharmed, and unalarmed, and asks me why I'm all beat up in the bottom floor of his house. Turns out, the Arabs put me there while in a daze. I explained all, and he was in a rage. We go to the police, and they figured out that I was part of a new Terrorist Ring that takes web-professionals hostage in order to make informative and impacting, pro palestine web sites. That, and viruses that they hope will cripple the world. The police tell me that I'm a strong person, that I could help them. They want me to go back to where they first found me, this time wearing a wire, and willing to work. I agree, go back to where I was filming Nicolas Cage in Coppla's new film, and I'm found. This time they're friendly, and escort me into some kind of underground web-design firm. Everything is Green and Red and Black (PLO colors), bit still really well laid out, very ergonomic conscious, and plenty of those flat, wide-screen, high resolution monitors that I've been coverting for so long. I'm given a couple computers, MAC and PC, and I'm told to work. There's guys with automatic weapons walking up and down the aisles, hitting people in the back of the head, making them work harder. I put in a good day's work, designing all kind of UI's (user interfaces) and navigation systems. Actually really cool stuff. I see on my watch that it's getting close to seven, so I make like I'm packing up to go home. The guard, with a smile, hits the butt of his weapon to my jaw and tells me, "you can sleep for an hour at 12:00 midnight. GET TO WORK!" As soon as he walks away to hassle someone else, I bring up my Yahoo! mail account, but it's blocked. I check Hotmail and things like that, and it's all blocked. Any website where you can receive email is blocked. But I beat the system. I try a greeting card website, and sure enough, I can send a letter. I go to the first one I can find, and the card is of a giant pair of lips kissing you. I send a letter that reads, "911 - this is no joke". I write in the message area, "I'm being held hostage at the place where I was filming Nicolas Cage in the new Coppla movie by group of Palestinian Cyber Terrorists. Tell the police." I went straight the 'To:' area, and wrote in Dad's email, and looking around, seeing that I have time, I wrote in Lisa's, Dave's, and Adina's. I sent it. Then, just like in a Road Runner cartoon where the Coyote puts something in the mail, and the instant the slot is closed the mailman drives up with his package, the doors are busted in, SWAT guys repel in through the windows, all the terrorists are shot dead, the computers are destroyed, and I'm allowed to go home. The end. |
