The Daily Hell Gazette announced today, that soon after Abu Musab al-Zarqawi arrived, following his recovery from death, he demanded that the furnace be lowered, asked for a tall glass of ice water, and for someone to bring him his first of seventy-two virgins.
A Satan assistant informed him that his furnace was just switched on, should be reaching full working capacity in three days, will never be lowered throughout eternity, that there is no ice water and there aren't any virgins. Stunned by the reply, al-Zarqawi began steaming like the space shuttle at launch, demanding to speak with god.
The Daily Hell Gazette reports, al-Zarqawi was advised that god doesn't reside in hell, never visits and will not take telephone messages. If still clueless, Zarqawi was presently in hell. The head power in hell is Satan, and she does not have time for him. Zarqawi's daily beheading would begin in an hour. He doesn't behead anyone, but is beheaded on a daily basis, and there is a long list of suicide bombers waiting for their turn.
"Satan is a woman?"
"With a photographic memory and she doesn't wear a burka."
Later, press secretary Tony Snow was drilled with questions about the validity of the Daily Hell Gazette, and how the White House managed to received an issue. Mr. Snow reminded the press corps of the time President Bush referred to the internet as the internets; explaining that it wasn't an example of one of his malapropos. There actually are computers in hell, as computers were originally invented in hell, and hell has its own internet.
Naturally, Vice President Cheney had instant access. Appears with all the suicide bombers, hell needed immediate expansion and Halliburton received a no bid contract to do the job. Halliburton managed to finish the job well under bid, making a substantial profit. Hell wasn't too happy, but then, that's hell.
When questioned about the President's reaction on learning of al-Zargawi's death, Mr. Snow replied that the President was jubilant, doing cartwheels around the Oval office, and was presently up on the roof of the White House with his megaphone.
A collective groan swept across the stuffy basement office. Mr. Snow added, that if they were real, real quiet, they might be able to hear him.
"Are you finally getting it? You rotten sons of bitches. Like it or not, we're going to bomb you into a democracy."