Someone get me the Somali translation for “BRING IT ON.”
“We will seek out the Americans and we will slaughter them,” boasted a 25-year-old pirate who wanted to remain anonymous by only giving his first name, Ismail. And that’s OK, we’ll just have to hunt down and kill every pirate who even remotely looks like an Ismail.
You want to get gangsta, Somali pirates? We can get gangsta. You’re messing with the country that invented the whole idea of the East Coast/West Coast feud.
And make sure to invite all of your Johnny-Depp wannabe pirate friends, and their little talking pirate parrots, too. Because the sooner we make all of you “walk the plank” right out of existence, the sooner the rest of us can make like Art Vandelay and get back to the business of importing and exporting.
Most of the world sees the United States as this giant guard dog. Sure, we can be vicious when absolutely necessary, but most of the time, whether through international pressure or by our own sense of morality, we’re rarely allowed off of our leash.
What these Somali pirates don’t understand is that hundreds of miles out in international waters—THERE IS NO LEASH.
And more importantly, being in the middle of nowhere means there is nobody holding us accountable, no media types floating on a dingy nearby, no whistle-blowers like documentarian Michael Moore with a video camera, water wings and a Speedo (which should be its own form of terrorism).
And with nobody telling us what we can and cannot do, that means game on, my little Somali friends. Game. Freaking. On. And by the time it’s over you’re going to be begging somebody to waterboard you.
This isn’t like Vietnam where the bad guys were sneaking around in the jungle. You pirates are floating in the middle of a freaking ocean and anybody who’s ever played Marco Polo knows how impossible it is to hide in water.
It’s going be like paper-rock-scissors, except this game is called Somali-American-whoopass and everyone and their mamma gets to beat a pirate. It’s going to be easier than that game at the carnival with the ping pong balls where anyone who plays wins a goldfish.
Right now, the United States is a country full of pissed-off people. We’re pissed about the economy. We’re pissed about how Iraq turned out. Hell, we’re even pissed that Jessica Simpson got fat and the new Wolverine movie looks like it’s going to suck. And we’re looking for somebody, anybody, to take out our frustration on.
Vaporizing a speedboat full of greedy Somali jacktards is exactly the kind of therapeutic experience the whole country can get behind.
Republicans, Democrats, hell even the Libertarians want a piece of you. Not to mention we’ll look like heroes to the rest of the world by making shipping routes safe again. And who knows? Maybe Russell Crowe will get to star in a movie about it.
Just last week, an American freighter loaded with food aid escaped pirates who were firing grenades and automatic weapons at them. The crew of the American freighter was able to escape by—get this—blockading themselves inside the freighter’s engine room.
Um, tell me, Somali pirates, if you couldn’t defeat a locked door, what’s going to happen when somebody is actually firing back? Oh, wait, we already know the answer to that one, too.
That’s because Navy SEALs recently took down a group of pirates and saved the 19-man crew of another American cargo ship using little more than a rowboat and a couple of sniper rifles. Three pirates were dead before they could even shout out their list of demands:
“Nobody mo”—BANG!—Three bullets right through their pirate eye patches.
God forbid, one of these Somali punks follows through on the threat to “slaughter” an American. We all saw what Somalis did in Black Hawk Down and I guaran-damn-tee you everyone from an Army Ranger to the guy ringing the bell for the Salvation Army wants to help write the sequel: Black Hawk Down II: Hey Didn’t There Used to Be Pirates Here?
Contact Jeff Girod at firstname.lastname@example.org