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Incoming Wounded

If history is any guide, sometime around 2020 network television should produce a wacky sitcom set during the Afghanistan war. After a brief flirtation with the name "Omar's Heroes", I settled on the title Muslim Asshole Subterranean Hideaway, or M * A * S * H.

Some script highlights:



The show's theme music, "Martyrdom is Painless", plays as the camera pans across the Afghan mountains. An F16 enters the frame, and the camera zooms in on it to shoot over the shoulder of the weapons officer. The camera zooms further to a bomb's-eye view display on the weapons console. We watch as the ground looms larger and larger; the bomb is falling towards a cave entrance. As it hits, the point-of-view moves through the ground and into a gloomy cave, where sits our show's anti-hero, MULLAH "HAWKEYE" OMAR, reading the Koran. OMAR looks up as an explosion jolts the cave, raising clouds of dust

OMAR: Crazy infidels... all the daisies are already cut!

LAUGHTER

OMAR: I'm sorry, but this bunker is already busted!

LAUGHTER. Enter OMAR's nutty cave-mate, MULLAH "TRAPPER" ZAEEF. APPLAUSE

ZAEEF: What a morning! It's only ten, and already America's heartless bombing has killed three million Afghan children!

LAUGHTER

ZAEEF: And if you believe that, I've got some prime Manhattan real estate I'd like to sell you.

LAUGHTER

OMAR (suddenly somber): I hate this war. I just want to go home to Kandahar. Did I ever tell you about Kandahar?

ZAEEF: Only about a thousand times.

LAUGHTER

OMAR: Good ol' Kandahar. Did I ever tell you it's the spiritual center of my Taliban movement?

ZAEEF: You may have mentioned it.

LAUGHTER

OMAR: When I was a kid in Kandahar, we used to chant the Koran twelve hours a day, then ---

ZAEEF: --- go stone infidels?

OMAR: Yeah, how'd you know?

ZAEEF: Lucky guess.

LAUGHTER

OMAR: Well, I don't know about you, but I'm about ready for some illicit fun.

ZAEEF: You wouldn't be talking about --- THIS?

ZAEEF produces a tape player from under his bunk with a dramatic flourish

OMAR: I would indeed. Mrs. O, do your stuff!

ZAEEF presses a button, and a horrible squealing noises issues forth from the boom box. He and OMAR lie back contentedly

OMAR: And the beauty of it is that Yoko Ono isn't really music, so it's not a sin.

ZAEEF: I wonder how Allah feels about Cornel West's rap?

LAUGHTER. Suddenly, OSAMA bursts in

OSAMA: What in the name of Allah is going on here?

OMAR: Well, if it isn't ferret-face!

LAUGHTER

OSAMA: You guys know as well as I do that the Koran, Allah be praised, forbids music!

OMAR: Oh, lighten up, OSAMA.

ZAEEF: Yeah. Ever since your beard went white, you look like you have a chinchilla growing out of your chin!

LAUGHTER

OSAMA: Allah have mercy on you... you... you GUYS!

ZAEEF: Well, I guess he told us!

OSAMA: You're not going to get away with this! I'm going to report you to the chief!

He stomps out in a huff, with OMAR and ZAEEF looking after him curiously

OMAR: How *does* he gets his long flowing robes so white?

ZAEEF: Beats me.

OMAR: Only with a steel cable!

LAUGHTER



OSAMA is kneeling on a prayer rug, bowing and ringing his hands as he rants

OSAMA: And for another thing, your name be praised, they have, power be to you, an unauthorized tape player, may your name be praised! I demand, as your hand smites the infidels, that some true Muslim law, blessed be Allah, be enforced in this cave!

He sits up, crosses his arms and stares expectantly into space

OSAMA: Are you listening to me, as you always hear my prayers?

As he agains stares expectantly, a shaggy, unkempt figure sidles up behind him. It's SULEYMAN AL-FARIS ABDUL HAMID WALKER-LINDH, whom everyone calls RADAR

OSAMA : RA ---

RADAR (interrupting him): Yes sir?

OSAMA starts, then turns to glare at RADAR

OSAMA: Haven't I told you never to sneak up on me like that? Allah be praised, you're worse than those Delta Force guys!

RADAR: Sorry, sir. There's a call for you on the satellite phone!

He holds up the phone to OSAMA, who looks at it peevishly

OSAMA: Didn't I tell you to leave the satellite phone turned off?

RADAR: Well, yes, but it's only one call, what could possibly ---

A sudden explosion rocks the cave. When the dust settles, OSAMA and RADAR are covered in dirt and debris. RADAR is holding out the skeletal remains of the phone

RADAR: --- happen?

OSAMA: (sighing) Did you happen to find out what the call is about?

RADAR: Yes, sir. It was Noam Chomsky. He's coming for a visit in two days.

OSAMA: Noam Chomsky --- is --- coming --- HERE?

RADAR: Yes, sir.

OSAMA: In --- TWO --- DAYS?

RADAR: Yes, sir.

OSAMA: Allah have mercy! We only have two days to get this place shipshape!

Another explosion rocks the cave. OSAMA and RADAR look up at the cave roof then at each other

RADAR: This is pretty noisy for a silent genocide.

OSAMA: All right, all right, let me think. You get together a work party to dispose of the stinking bloated corpses of the glorious martyrs, Allah be praised, while I deal with Omar and Zaeef!



ZAEEF is praying on a mat. OMAR enters.

OMAR: Oh boy, Mohammed Klinger's at it again.

ZAEEF sits up.

ZAEEF: What's he up to now?

OMAR: He's trimmed his beard to less than one fist's width.

ZAEEF: What? Osama will throw him out of the cave as punishment!

OMAR: It's not going to look good when Noam Chomsky visits our cave tomorrow.

ZAEEF: Chomsky's coming here?

OMAR: Uh huh.

They both pause for a beat.

ZAEEF and OMAR: Where's the beard trimmer?

LAUGHTER

They resume praying. Suddenly OMAR sits up.

OMAR: Wait a minute... what's that sound?

ZAEEF sits up and listens intently.

ZAEEF: I don't hear anything.

OMAR: That's just it. The bombing's stopped!

ZAEEF: It must be Ramadan!

Suddenly the lights go dark and an loud explosion is heard. When the lights come back on, ZAEEF is buried under a pile of rock

OMAR: On the other hand, it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

LAUGHTER

ZAEEF: Would you shut up and help me get these rocks off?

OMAR: (raising eyebrows) What would Allah say about that?

LAUGHTER



But you get the idea. Just add Mullah Mulcahy, Hotlips Mohammed, Colonel Mohammed, Sergeant Mohammed, Mohammed Able, and Mohammed Baker, and you've got yourself a recipe for eleven years of weekly zaniness, becoming increasingly preachy and irritating as time goes on.


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