Please Don't Kill Me
(I Had Nothing to Do with This)

Dear Muslim Friends,

I know you are upset by the images you see in this issue of The BEAST. They are distasteful and disrespectful to your beautiful religion and peaceful worldview. Mohhamomed was a great man and prophet, and does not deserve to be insulted like this. When he changed his name from Cassius Clay, I supported the decision and thought his punches actually packed a greater wallop with the force of Allah behind them.

At the staff meeting when it was decided that we, sorry, The BEAST would include these images as a testament to free speech and our, I'm sorry, their, huge balls, I vehemently opposed the idea. "It's not right!" I yelled. "What is the point of inciting violence and disrespecting one of the best boxers that ever lived?"

I do not want to die. Not yet anyway, and not at the hands of an offended Muslim. I want to freeze to death when I am 83 years old. Please do not kill me or burn down my apartment. Kill only the editor and the cartoonist. Kill the publisher, too. He once smoked a joint on the steps of City Hall and announced his political candidacy in the NUDE! His circumcised wiener was floating in the wind, directly under Allah's watchful and disapproving gaze.

Actually, it would be better if you didn't kill any of us and just did what the Christian conservatives did to Brokeback Mountain: ignore us. We will go away. I promise.

But really, if you are going to kill someone, I don't think it should be me. I thought zealot was pronounced to rhyme with with "deal it" and not "pellet." That's how little I complain about your devotion to your faith.

So, to sum up: please don’t kill me. This wasn’t my idea. I think you’re just peachy. That’s not offensive, is it?

Thanks—and sorry again.

Love,

Chris Riordan