{The following is my idea of what very well may have gone down over the last few days at Hosni Mubarak’s (thankfully now former) Presidential palace. It is not the most probably scenario, or the most well researched, or the most historically accurate, but it is, in this author’s opinion, the most amusing. }

It is Thursday, February 10, 2011. }

Azizi : I can’t believe it, it’s finally happening!
Dakarai : I know. These last two weeks have been the longest weeks of my life. I mean, we knew Hosehead was not the most reasonable or sensible person in the world, but trying to talk that man into accepting reality and stepping down is like talking to the sand.
Azizi : Except sometimes the sand moves a little!

{They both laugh. }

Azizi : To think, we will finally be free of that terrible man, with his petty demands and his impossible standards and bizarre…. proclivities.
Dakarai : I, for one, know that I can never eat lamb or mutton again.
Azizi : Yes. Or beef.
Dakarai : Or chicken.
Azizi : Or (shudder) goat.
Dakarai : Especially not goat. Never, ever goat. Face it, Azizi… we are vegetarians now.
Azizi : It is true. We should thank Allah that his wandering eye never lit upon a bag of rice or a loaf of bread, else we should both starve!

{They both laugh. }

Azizi : Were you there when we finally agreed to step down?
Daktarai : No, I gave up and went home after the first six hours of arguing. Were you?
Azizi : I was so privileged. It was pure luck, however. Had I stayed at my uncle’s wedding party any longer, I would have missed it. As is, I showed up just when he finally broke down and admitted there might be a few people in Egypt who don’t like him. From there, it was only three more hours before he agreed to make the speech announcing he is stepping down.
Daktarai : You mean, he agreed to step down.
Azizi : I would not go that far. Let’s just say…
Daktarai : Wait, wait…. it’s time! Turn on CNN!

{Azizi grabs the remote control and turns on the television just in time for them to hear the part of Mubarack’s speech where it becomes evident that he is NOT, in fact, stepping down. }

Daktarai : WHAT?!?

{Azizi throws the remote at the television screen so hard that the remote explodes into tiny pieces. }

Azizi : That son and father of a crosseyed goat!
Daktarai : He can’t do this to us. Not now. I can’t go back to working for that idiot now. I have already sold my home in the city and all my belongings. My wife and children and I are moving to my cousin Chisisi’s farm near the sea. It’s a done deal, I can’t change my mind now. My wife… bless her holy love…. would never forgive me. She will give me that look that says “I am forlorn, for I have been cursed with an idiot for a husband. ” She will be rude to me in front of our children and our relatives. . Our bedroom will be colder than the top of Mount Sinai!
Azizi : Calm down, calm down, my excitable friend. All is not yet lost. Some of us have…. anticipated this outcome, and made plans. Do not worry…. by now, they are already in motion.

{SCENE : Hosni Mubarak in another room in the Palace, a room dominated by an extremely large plasma screen television. CNN is on. As a bored-looking Mubarak listlessly watches, the newsdesk interrupts to announce his resignation and play a clip of vice-president Omar Suleiman announcing it. }

Mubarak : WHAT?!?

{Mubarak throws the remote at the television screen so hard that the remote explodes into tiny pieces. }

Mubarak : That traitorous dog! That back-stabbing jackal! That son and mother of a crosseyed goat! I’ll see that he dies the slowest and most merciless death my torturers can conceive! His death will make the ghosts of the Pharaohs themselves cry out in horror!

{Mubarak storms across the room to the closed door, only to find it is locked. He immediately begins pounding on it and rattling the knob. }

Mubarak : GUARDS! Release me immediately! Some idiot locked me in this room! GUARDS! GUARDS! Seize that traitor Suleiman and bring him to me, along with some starving rats and a bucket of soapy water! GUARDS! I have not resigned! I REPEAT, I have NOT RESIGNED! GUARDS!

{CUT TO : Azizi and Daktarai in their office, watching Mubarak rage on their own television. Both men have tears in their eyes and as the cut opens, they are just finishing a very hearty laugh. }

Daktarai : Ah, this was indeed far better than anything I could have imagined. How long do you think it will take him to realize what has truly happened?
Azizi : With his radiant intellect? Could be hours… days even.
Daktarai : We’ll know he has figured it out when he stops raging like a man and starts begging like a woman.
Azizi : Let him rage, or beg, or recite the whole Koran backwards, it will make no difference. The deed is done, the people are dancing in the streets, the whole world knows he is no longer President and the military is in charge, and there is nobody in that entire wing of the Palace to hear his cries.
Daktarai : Truly, you are a man of wisdom and genius, my friend. It makes me wonder why we ever tries convincing him to step down on his own. Surely we, of all people, could not have had an ounce of respect for that blister on a camel’s balls.
Azizi : So are you going through with your plan to retire to your cousin’s farm?
Daktarai : Yes indeed! My wife is so happy, she doesn’t even want to stay to enjoy the parties. By this time tomorrow, she and I and all our children and servants will be on our way up the Nile to paradise.
Azizi : Think they have room there for an old childless bachelor with an inconveniently public association with the most hated man in Egypt?

{Daktarai pretends to think this over, then smiles. }

Daktarai : For the man who freed Egypt…. anything.

THE END