Baghdad prisoner

For two weeks I have been imprisoned. There were two other prisoners in the cell with me. One of them played the guitar and we sang sad songs about how corrupt rulers began wars, and ordinary peasants have to kill each other.

The cell door opened and a guard with a machine gun led me out.

"Go over there, down the hallway," he said to me.

"But why? There is a dead end!?" I was surprised.

"Shut up and go!"

I went along the corridor and at that time there was a click and an annoyed cry "What the hell, it's stuck again!"

I turned around, the guard was fiddling with the machine gun.

"You wanted to shoot me down?" I asked irritably. "What about my last wish? I would love to drink a can of beer!"

The guard tossed me a can of beer. I drank it greedily, but something went wrong and I vomited.

"What? Who will clean it up now?" the guard yelled.

"I feel so bad, I won't" I answered.

Unhappy grumbling, the guard put the machine gun against the wall, brought a rag and began to clean it up.

"Interesting thing," I thought, taking and examining the machine gun. "It can probably shoot the board through."

"Hey, watch out! This thing is loaded!" the guard exclaimed, defending himself with a rag.

"Probably, it can shoot that rag through too," I thought and shoot. "Yes, it can."