Curtain.  In a luxurious room, OSAMA , a tall man in mid-East dress, rushes about packing suitcases. He is trailed everywhere by his butler, ZAWAHRI, who ceaselessly attempts to connect his master to a small, creaking, wheeled dialysis machine. A sulky, veiled beauty, NAHID* KLEIN, watches proceedings from the vast plush bed. From outside we hear muted shouting and machine-gun fire.

OSAMA. Seals. Fucking seals! Did we not reach out to the seal-lovers, Zawahri? Didn’t we? So much for your eco-Koran initiative, Z. Where are my good sandals, you titless chicken? Now that your precious infidel seals are shooting at us?

ZAWAHRI. Please, sir… sheikh… leader… monsieur… boss… master… you must take some medicine for your kidneys. Or you will go into a diabetic coma. I beg you, I beg you. You are awkward to carry when unconscious, all due respect….

OSAMA. Nahid Klein, slap him, please.

NAHID languidly pulls an Uzi from the bedclothes and hits Z. in the forehead with it. He collapses. OSAMA continues to rush...More >>