BIRDS OF A FEATHER

  

 

FROM THE VAULT:

File: xxx-xxxx-xx-x. 26/09/25

MI-6/Mossad cranial dialogue intercept 

during United Nations General Assembly 

Opening Sessions. 

22 September 2025. New York. 

Utilizing MK-ULTRA INTRA-CRANIAL BRAINSPY^© 

SOFTWARE. TOP SECRET >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

 

TARGETS:

 

—Ahmed al-Sharr: (a.k.a. Abu Mohammad al-Julani; a.k.a. “Head-chopper”) Member of Isis. Spent five years in Iraqi prison on terrorism charges. Moved to Syria and was the founding member of al-Nustra Front in early 2010s. Broke away from al-Nustra in 2016 to start his own terrorist group, “Hay'at Tahrir al-Sham (HTS)” in Syria, in opposition to the Assad government. Became president of Syria in 2025. (Ahmed)

 

—David Petraeus: served 37-years in U.S. army. Served in Iraq and oversaw “The Surge” operation, 2003-2005; Commander of Central Command (“Centcom”) in Afghanistan; Commander of NATO forces in Afghanistan, 2008-10; Dir. of CIA, 2011-12; resigned due to extra-marital affair posing a potential security risk; retired as four-star general. Partner in KKR, a global investment firm since 2013. (Dave)

 

Dave: Wow! Meeting Ahmed, again. After all these years. I wonder if he remembers me? My boys caught him and put him away for five years. Nothing I could do about that. I hope he’s not still angry at me. Man! President Trump was right. He’s grown up into an 'attractive, tough guy'. A real raghead to riches story. Gawd! I can smell his man musk from here. Can’t let that distract me. Focus, Dave! Ask him a question so you don’t look like a star-struck schoolgirl. Take charge. You were a general in the United States Army, damn it! Ask him. Anything! “Ah, Ahmed. I should say, ‘Mister President’. Ha-Ha! You fought… ahem, for the most part, on the right side... [Polite laughter from audience] for some years. Most recently, you’ve joined forces with other militias in Syria, along with assistance from Türkiye. Even Israel helped. Then you defeated Bashir Assad’s criminal regime in what seemed like an afternoon. The dictator’s army collapsed like a wet tent when fronted by your forces. How does it feel to go from being a terrorist with a ten-million dollar bounty on your head to become Syria’s president in so short a time?”

Ahmed: Kaffir! Infidel! Betraeus. Look at him—a bowl of decrepitude. He comes sniffing around me like a dog in heat. Pah! I could gut him in an instant and lop off his tiny head like a skin tag! Where is the brave general now? He comes to me. Me! He ask me questions, and I answer. We sit, have polite talk. Yada-yada-yada. The audience—unbelievers all. I curse them! They clap hands when the studio light goes on like trained seals in circus. These Americans! Dogs barking in a kennel, unaware they will soon be put down. “Well, Davidz. I call you dis, okay? Dave, is like dis: You know toy the childs call ‘kaleid-o-scopes’, yes?”

Dave: “I think so. Go on.”

Ahmed: “You look insides and turn dial. Bits of coloured glass spin rounds. Is pretty. But, David, you never get big picture, just bits of coloured glass spinning in tube. Is like dat. Are you understand what I means?”

Dave: “I think so, Ahmed. You’re saying the only way you can get any perspective in life, is if you look outside the tube, from ‘the earth to the sky’ as they say in the Holy Book. But, what did you see when you look..looked up from the tube, beyond the tumbling, coloured glass?”  Gawd! My nutts are tighter than Scrooge at Christmas! Why does he have such an effect on me? After all this time. I thought I would be in charge. Me! But it’s him. I feel lost. Out of my depth.

Ahmed: His haunches are like third wife Asheedora—smooth, silky. He has hair in strange places, but not hairball like Ashee’s vale of paradise, thank the Prophet! He has  a mole on hip that look like blessed teta's [grandmother] face. His flanks are flabby. He has gut. Ha! Don't we all! His breath bad. He smell old. He old man. His thighs remind me of second wife, Frasha. Stringy. Both are weak. Frail. Like kittens kicked to curb. He need thrashing like I give First Wife Alorah. She is a trial. A pox on my house! Such a tongue on her! I should cut it out. Someday, I strap martyr pack on her. Then who boss, eh? God willing.

Dave: “Ahmed, what do you see when you look outside your tube? Where has his mind gone to. He seems miles away. Does he remember our time together all those years ago? He looks at me, his eyes wide. So deep! I feel like I’m falling again… for him. Again…

Ahmed: “Ha!” What I see? I see is great general spread-eagle on bed, beggings me to mount him like dirty sheep Yousef and me use to ride in Tal’at Musa foothills as childs. I make him scream like cat in alleyways. “GeneraI Betraeus, I see my Syria strong and free, and democratics beacon of light for all Middle East.” He like such talk. They all do. Infidels! Audience clap-clap. What dey nos about anytings?

Dave: I can’t stand this! My little soldier is so hard I could split my pants. I pray the studio lights go out before I have to stand up. I’ll write him a note. Give him my phone number. Maybe we could go for a non-alcoholic drink? Share old times. What’s wrong with that. I know what he’s like, what he’s done. It doesn’t matter. He’s changed. We both have. Life is too short, too precious to waste. I know he feels the same. “That’s admirable, Ahmed…truly wonderful, I….” [General Petraeus stops talking, utters a guttural cry before collapsing on the floor in a series of spasms. END OF TRANSCRIPT😀

 

 Cheers, Jake. ____________________________________