This is Radio Conspiracy FM-70 – by Nadeem Paracha
Source :Dawnblog
Hello this is Radio Conspiracy FM-70 and I’m your host and RJ, Ali Azmat. Today in the studios we have with us Pakistan’s leading DJ and rock star from the band Conquering Israel, Ghalat Hussain, hello Ghalat …
Hello. You’re bleeding.
Yes, I am. Maria B. said the colour red goes well with my wild shining bald.
Who beat you up? The cops?
No, no, I beat myself up. A bleeding forehead looks very dramatic on TV.
But we’re not on TV.
We’re not?
No. We’re on radio.
Damn! Why wasn’t I told?
You’re crazy.
I am?
Yes.
Gee, thanks. Okay, time for a song. Here’s a Peo TV jhankaar version of ‘Kill The Ahmedis.’ Yum. That’s my favourite. Just give me a minute to prepare.
Prepare? Yes. (Bang! Bang! Bang!)
What the … ?? Why are you banging your head on the wall?? You’re bleeding again.
I want to look dramatic when you play that song.
But you’re on radio. Nobody can see you.
I’m on radio? Yes. Damn! Why wasn’t I told?
You’re crazy.
Right. We already have a caller on line. Hello?
Hello.
Who’s this?
Imran Khan.
Arrey, Imran bhai! How are you?
Stop making so much noise all the time, baldy. Otherwise I won’t take you on that long march I am planning with Jamaat-i-Islami.
But all the noise is for you, jaani.
No it’s not. And don’t call me jaani.
Err … okay. Can I call you Raju?
No! Now give the phone to Ghalat!
Jee, Imran sahib, bolien.
Hello, Ghalat Sahib, we’re planning a long march against the evil Zardari. We want to dedicate this march to you, jaani.
Good. I need some walk.
He called you jaani …
Shut-up, baldy!
No, I won’t! No, no, no! Bang! Bang! Bang!
You’re crazy.
Let him bang his head. So, Ghalat Sahib, the long march will start from Karachi and end in Tibet.
Tibet?
Yes. Tibet.
Why Tibet?
Why Gaza?
I was on a ship.
Then we’ll get a ship too.
For a march?
Oh, okay, if not Tibet, then Uzbekistan perhaps?
No, I mean, why Tibet or Uzbekistan. Why not Lahore or Islamabad?
Hmmm. That’s a good point. Please give the phone to baldy.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Can’t. He’s banging his head against the microphone, tearing up the carpet and chewing away all the furniture.
Hmmm. That’s a good point. I think Peo TV should cover this.
He’s crazy.
Hmmm. That’s a good point …
Stop saying that and get me out of here!
No! You can’t go! Imran Khan bhai jaani, please call Peo. I want them to see what the Zionist-communist-Hindu-atheist-junkie-Buddhist-RAW-CIA-BBC-KFC-KESC-ghoondas have done to me!
No, you buffoon, they are Zardari’s ghoondas.
What ghoondas? He did it to himself
Leave that for me to handle, Gaza Hussain. You prepare for the long march. Remember, it starts in Karachi, goes through Kabul and ends in Beijing.
Beijing?
Ok, if not Beijing then Havana, perhaps?
No, I mean …
Hey, this is my show! Get off the phone Imran Khan bhai jaani!
He’s gone.
Good. Okay, listeners, time now for an interview. Today we will be talking to the famous pop duo, the Badnaam Doctors. We’ll be talking about their most recent album, ‘Male Nurses from Hell.’ Please welcome Amir Liaquat and Shahid Masood!
Nice.
Err … sorry folks, our producer just told us the Badnaam Doctors can’t make it to the show. They are busy making a flogging video to prove that the Swat flogging video was a hoax. Their video also proves that the Swat video was made by Ahmedis and Sikhs.
What?
Why, you have a problem with that?
That’s nonsense!
Are you sure you weren’t brainwashed by the Israelis, Ghalat jaani?
You have …
Thought so. Okay, now let’s take another call then. Hello?
Hello.
Yes, who’s this?
Who are you?
You should know. I am the famous Ali Azmat.
No, I don’t know. What are you famous for?
Don’t you watch Brastraps on TV?
No.
You should! There’s a great revolutionary movement for the restoration of the Khilafat going on.
On TV?
Yes, I mean, no, I mean in the country, I mean the world!
And what world is that?
Pakistan, of course. Are you blind?
No. I just don’t watch TV.
Then why did you call?
I called a radio channel.
This is a radio channel?
Yes.
Damn! Why wasn’t I told?
You’re crazy.
Who is this?
Hamid Mir.
I see. What do you do?
I talk a lot.
Talking is good for health.
I know. My nutritionist told me that.
Who’s your nutritionist?
Some Punjabi guy called Taliban on the other end of the phone.
Never heard of him. Does he come on TV as well?
We all come on TV.
Who pays for all this? The same guys who pay for you and that crackpot guru of yours.
Coca-Cola?
No, you idiot …
Oh, okay, I get it. McDonalds, right?
No, you buffoon!
Millat fan?
ISI, dimwit!
How dare you bad mouth the ISI?
I’m not. I’m bad mouthing you.
Oh, okay. Good man. Time to celebrate with a song. It’s from my latest album, ‘Klshanicough’, and the song is called ‘Crack baby blues.’
Sounds as if the song’s about you!
Shut up, Ghalat! How insensitive of you. It’s about poor young boys who are trained by the CIA and Mossad to blow up schools in Swat. It’s also about poor men like me who have to struggle and only have two air-conditioners and a Prado. These Zardaris, Jews and American Tank Thinks of the world just won’t let us poor middle-class people rest.
Think tanks, you mean?
Are you mocking my poverty?
Are you watching too many YouTube documentaries again?
You sure were brainwashed by the Israelis, Ghalat Hussain Bhai jaani.
I see. And what do you know about the Israelis?
I’ve done hours and hours of research on them. Hours and hours of watching The Arrivals and listening to crackpots on TV is not research, baldy. Ghalat jaani, what do you know. My research is solid, accurate and rational. Really, so what does it tell you about the Israelis? Well, it’s simple. They are evil aliens from the distant planet Zion sent here by their Elders to destroy Muslim civilisation. Every Muslim knows that. Won’t you agree, Hamid Mir sahib bhai jaani?
Well … err, are you sure this conversation is not being taped?
Oh, come on, Mir jaani, we’re live on TV. Can’t you see me?
I can’t. You’re on radio.
I am?
Yes.
Damn! Why wasn’t I told??
Nadeem F. Paracha is a cultural critic and senior columnist for Dawn Newspaper
That was retarded…..
Paracha is a jerk….and he is not funny at all.
This was beyond lame.