Sunday, December 25, 2011

Part 1 - The Grand Chanike Extravaganza


The Admou"r knew he had only the slightest chance of blowing even a tiny hole in the Brooklyn Bridge with his planned Rabbeini Reiven Goldberg a/k/a Rube Goldberg nuclear pyrotechnics demonstration. He was not even surprised or disappointed that the bottle of "Ruhollah Islamic Super-Atomic Pistachio Scented Baby-Soft Plutonium Liquid" fuel concentrate brought to him by an Iranian U.N. envoy was adulterated.

Once he saw an invoice for "50% off" signed by "Mashiah Kamsanzadeh," he knew that the Mossad had its tentacles in the whole Bushehr operation, and therefore the fuel was obviously adulterated. Still, he paid the Iranian envoy his agreed price of $30,000, in unmarked three, five, seven, and nine food stamp notes as well as a couple of expired EBT cards.

The Admou"r set out to Downtown Brooklyn by way of Boro Park, where he knew he could raid a couple of wedding halls for unused alcohol gel fuel. He was trailed by a truck that included two rubber dinghies, three rubber duckies, seven styrofoam boards, and seven pickle barrels. He also had a large supply of homemade slivovitz (as an independent country, Creedmoor could operate all the distilleries it wanted, especially because the Admou"r had a habit of distilling vodka and gin from wood and other methanol-generating solids), and some kokosh cake laced with hashish. This was to be handed out to passersby who would certainly want to join his excursion to the columns under the Brooklyn Bridge rather than watch the same old boring Chabad menorah lighting that took place every year in downtown Brooklyn.

He also had a sign made with the following message: "K'hal Sinas Chinam d'Creedmoor Invites You to a Grand Menorah Lighting In Memory of the Zionist Entity and In Honor of the New President of North Korea, Kim Limp Duck." The sign would be hung from the Brooklyn Bridge, only because its creator could not be hanged from the Brooklyn Bridge.

Finally, the Admou"r would beat those Lubavitcher tzioinim at their own game. He would khap their audience straight out from under them and take a dozen or so unwitting young Jewish families who were expecting to watch a boring ceremony at the Brooklyn docks on a cruise up the river that they would never forget. They would always remember how much better his kokosh cake was than the stale donuts and dubious latkes that issued forth from Crown Heights to spread a light far weaker than that of Doovid'l Schmoigerman, about whom it was said "Your fire will burn until the last uninsured building in the world is no longer standing!"

(Grand finale tomorrow)

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