He appeared oblivious to the effect his sharing had on social situations.
Rosh Pinna, October 7 – A resident of this Galilean town caused several family and friends to move slowly away from him today after describing the oddly precise hopes he has nurtured for the treatment that awaits terrorists in Hell, household sources reported today.
Maor Bar-On, 40, prompted puzzled looks, awkward silences, and sooner-than-planned departures this morning and afternoon when he suggested that the Hezbollah figures responsible for rocket and drone fire that has caused tens of thousands of Israeli to flee their homes over the last year will face such specific horrors in Hell as every second toe severed, dipped in bat guano, and force fed to them, while the open wounds are dipped in lemon, then lime, then grapefruit juices, and then rubbed with sand and pebbles from the coast of Tierra Del Fuego.
“They should have the left side of the face clawed from the cheekbone downward by a two-year-old honey badger with ulcerative colitis,” he spat. “Then a five-legged demon using a green staple gun will fasten their eyes open as they are forced to watch, over and over again, everything they ever valued proven wrong, against an acoustic backdrop of their favorite songs rendered in subtly off and infuriating ways.”
“No, wait,” he continued, as a neighbor excused herself with an improvised pretext of a dentist appointment (she has no teeth). “They need to relive, in hundredfold intensity, the most humiliating moments of their lives. Like being bullied, only this time they experience it with fiery shame of having a puny weakling bloody them while they fail to land a single convincing blow.”
“Huh. Actually that sounds like what’s going on in this life already,” he conceded. “I’ll come up with something else.”
Throughout the day, Bar-On appeared oblivious to the effect his sharing had on social situations. “He’s always been a little funny,” observed his wife Shirli. “But the stress of the war has affected all of us. Rockets hit our neighbor’s house today. The few of us who have stayed behind have grown close. We’d have evacuated, too, but… my begonias.”
Even after the room had emptied, Bar-On was overheard thinking out loud about appropriate postmortem scenarios for Hezbollah and Hamas terrorists. “Lava smoothies, hmm…” he mused. “Getting stabbed in the appendix and groin with a mahogany rolling pin. Yes, yes, has potential. Sea urchins? Perhaps as a suppository, with anal paper cuts administered with pages of a treasured Quran…”
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