Story

Once there was a beautiful woman who lay sleeping peacefully, with a delicate grace, upon her bed. Her name was Iraq. Her bedroom, her sanctuary, was filled with deep, dark maroons and reds, colors she loved, and the bed was surrounded by mesh and thousands of butterflies flew around her bed. One morning, her eyes still closed a rank,ragged, uncouth man named George on the sly, entered her boudoir and made his way, his filthy clothes carrying a stench, to her bed. Iraq was still asleep, dreaming deeply, her thoughts carried off by the butterflies that filled the room, her arms were foled across her midsection, hands enclasped. This man,George, climbed onto her bed and forced himself upon her, throwing her long dress up above her head and spreading his foul body over hers. he unsheathed himself and plunged, carrying out his assault. As his assault began , a hissing sound rose across the room, expressed by the flapping of the butterflies wings. The assembled voice swooped down over George and whispered loudly in his ear, "pull out!" "pull out!" Offended at the assault of its precious daughter. George ignored the voice,determined in his assault. The clouds darkened around the house and a loud, shrill noise, like the twirping of crickets arose from the grounds around the house. The twirping noises, in a thunderous symphony, meted out the words, "Cut it off! Cut it off!" It was an imperious demand. Soon, the butterflies swooped down over George, and flung him across to the other side of the bed. His manhood still erect,he was in total shock at the forces that had overtaken him. The butterflies gathered together in acloud and swarmed around him. In one swoop, by the wing of one butterfly moved by the force of the wind, George's erect, assaulting tool had been cut away from his body, falling just beside him on the bed. the world had been restored and peace once again entered Iraq's beloved boudoir.