AOU, I want to take you on a little trip of the mind, if you have a minute. You're a hard-working Palestinian man whose house got fucking bombed by the kikes. All of your family either died or ended up wounded, like you. You all end up in this hospital, full of the wails of the injured and desperate prayers to their God to save them from the monstrous jews. Your legs are fucked, you're stuck in a bed, they don't have morphine for you, all they have is a nurse praying over you for hours as you listen to the cacophonic screams and continued bombings outside. You can't breath- the building is full of dust and smoke and it's humid with *sweat and blood.* All you can smell is shit and blood and pleas to their God. Suddenly, you're deafened as the room beside you is blown out with flames from a bomb dropped on the roof on the other side of the hospital from you. The hallways are filled with flames and choking smoke, and the wailing and moaning becomes desperate screaming as more bombs begin to land. Finally, **MERCIFFULLY,** the kikes drop a bomb directly on top of your room, blowing out the floor above and collapsing it upon you. The last thing you hear is the priest praying with a shaking, loud voice, and then utter darkness as you're crushed by the weight of the upper half of the structure. **MERCIFULLY,** you suffocate to death after a half hour or so, wondering where your wounded child and wife are, wondering if your God will save you, and then you're finally lost to shock. And then, it's finally over. How noble of the jews to enact this coup de grace on those wretched, wounded Palestinians.