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For the special occasion, you have bought a "little pirate" outfit. With your small height, you can only wear children's clothing, which means you have a detestable, cutesy look when you wear anything other than your traditional hijab. But this is a cosplay meet-up, so you need to wear a dorky attire. This is shameful, but necessary. You arrive at the rooftop, your vision hindered by your eyepatch. You spot your prey, waiting for you against the railing. He's dressed like a princess, with a pink gown and pale flowers in his hair. In his gorilla-like paw, he carries an umbrella. You didn't realize he was so strong, and this might be a difficult fight.
"I didn't realize you were a real goblin," he says with a squeaky voice. "Thats awesome."
You point your plastic saber at him. The toy came with the costume, and you thought you would look more menacing if you wield it.
"Ahoy, faggit. Prepare to be shark bait."
You sprint toward him, drop the weapon, and uppercut him several times in his slimy stomach. You move with the speed of a panther, and he does not have a chance to react. The fat ripples, and he bends in pain. Without hesitation, you headbutt him directly in the face, throwing your elbows behind you for more momentum. Another punch in the face. When he's down, you kick him repeatedly in the head until he's unconscious. You went for a quick attack. You have no time to torture him.
"As fo' da deviant, dey wil be fuel fo' Hell." (al-Jinn, 15)
The tradition from the desert is to throw him off the roof, but the railing is an obstacle you hadn't anticipated. How are you going to lift him over it? You're only 40 lbs, and he's at least four times your weight. You scream with rage. Your voice is carried by the wind, brought to the clouds and to the hellish world below. With one move, you jump over the railing and lift his ankles with both your hands, until his knees hang past the railing. This is a herculean effort, straining all of your muscles. But you are strong. With the most difficult part accomplished, you find yourself able to lift the rest over it by pushing him above your shoulders.
Time freezes up as he's falling toward the basement. You have spontaneously reached a state of kundalini awakening, a flow of divine energy which moves along your spine and runs toward your third eye and the top of your head. The enormous body is going down like a feather.
<span class="mu-r">SPLASH!!!!</span>
His head explodes, and you admire your work. Blood and bits of brain splatter in every direction, an Islamic painting of red with the hard, grey floor as canvas. From your heroic actions, an unrighteous life has been terminated. You feel like one of Muhammad's disciples, a warrior saddled atop a strong camel, raiding the caravans of the Makkans for the riches and for the glory of Islam.
"Mine regardz to Syaitan, faggit."
