Why my neighbor does not have a rock through his window or slimy camel penis head.

So I'm going through the positions of the kama sutra with my seven young, ravishing nubian wives (an experience you americans can only dream of with your foolish monogamatic marriages) when suddenly I have this strikingly abundant thought: If one were to hurl a medium sized stone from the top of my wondrous shanty across the sandy plains of my neighbor (the neighbor I have put a Jihad on- no not that neighbor, the other one) would such a stone not hit the ground before hitting that slimy camel penis of a man's house? Or might it not continue on its path, if hurled with appropriate force, to quite possibly smash the infidel's window? I attempted to consult wives 2 and 5 on the subject, as they are the most sharp of the bunch, but sadly, once again I had pleasured them beyond the ability to form coherent sentences. No, these were not random american tourist girls I had kidnapped off the street and the reason they were unable to speak was that I couldn't remove their gags or they might start screaming again, and when they start screaming the only choice is to stab them over and over and over in the throat and ankles then rig their bodies with explosives and send them off in a taxi towards Palestinia. Anyways, I was consumed with curiousity at that point, and so ordered them to pleasure each other and sell videos of it on-line for immense profit while I set out to determine what exactly a rock might do in the previously mentioned situation.
Sadly I was to be thwarted before the rock could even be hurled.
While in theory my idea was sound, I had neglected to recall that the roof of the shanty must be reached with a stone in hand. The rock I had procured from the site of a recent stoning (it was the killing rock, I have found the rock which ended an infidel's life, praise be to Allah!), but there was no conceivable way to reach the top of my shanty! My horrible curiousity would have ended there but for my wondrous ingenuity.
"**How," I had howled to the night, "shall I ever reach this shanty's tall height?!" Just then a man approached. He claimed to be of the name Szhagjin dil Zabdihad, and said he was a constructor of ladders and hydraulic platforms, and that he had an excess of both products due to the mounting number of infidels God had continually sent his way. As he spoke, I noticed suddenly that he had thought God and not the Almighty Jesus Christ had flooded his homeland with infidels! I was forced to bludgeon him to death with my medium sized rock on the spot.
His body, smashed and broken, lay before me, and suddenly bits and pieces of the conversation began fitting together. "constructor of ladders and hydraulic platforms" "excess of both products" "Why are you bludgeoning me to death with that rock oh Allah why is this happening"... I could make steps to the top of the shanty using the bodies of infidels! Post-haste I made my way about the nearby area, finding and murdering no less than seventeen people who seemed mildly conspicuous, then one-by-one dragging the bodies to the edge of my shanty. But at that time I was very tired and very bloody so I stopped the bloodshed and went inside to make love to my many captive tourists. And by that I mean wives.




**Translated from Arabanese for your viewing pleasure, but you're probably a fucking heathenous infidel anyways, so fuck you good sir.