Oh fearless ruler, my wife has lost twenty pounds and our fourth borne child, a beautiful sandy-eyed girl, has died. We have been living off the fat of the land, mainly consuming sand, mud and, occasionally, left over military armaments from the cold war era. Eating tank shells doesn't seem to be providing the necessary nutrients to the little ones, though their iron and lead counts are increasing dramatically.
I beg of you, compassionate and caring ruler, to free me so I can do God’s work and bash publicly traded companies for a pittance.
May Ad al-Bashassan remember you and bequeath upon you forty virgins, black olives and a goblet of the finest red wine upon your martyrdom!
Ibash Forcash
