The Disruptor

A cerulean sky welcomed the speaker and media members to better understand the position of the speaker. Glints of sunlight shone through the silver leaves onto the podium. When the press crowd had finally died down, the Prophet Mohammad could finally speak.

“In this world we have those who accept the faith, and those who don’t. There are those who believe in God, but I know there is no God but Allah. Everything I am is because of the fact that Allah has allowed me to be his Messenger. It will take time for us to cut through and divide the fruits of faith and those infidels who wish to continue down their ugly path. I’ll now take questions,” Mohammad announced.

“Yes, Kincaid Condal from the Daily Delaware.”

“There’s been some concern about the Abrahmic faith being built around the idea that Abraham was going to kill his eldest son, Issac, but didn’t. The main idea was that he was willing to do it. What do you say about that particular passage in ancient texts?”

“As you know, Islam is among Christianity and Judaism as the descendents of Father Abraham. If I were in his sandals, I would have done even more. I would have killed my son to please God. I would have spilt his blood for the glory of the Lord.”

A shout rang out after Mohammad said this statement. At first, it was muffled like a bag over the mouth. Then it sounded like a chant that echoed through the hallways.

“To hell with God! To hell with God!” The woman, Milly Cooke, kept yelling.

Mohammad showed a sign of fear mixed with anxiety in a quavering smile. He quickly tried to regain control of the room. His attempts remained futile. Milly kept up her protest and the press turned their smartphones and traditional cameras to the disruptor.

Milly approached the podium screaming and waving her sign that looked blood stained with pictures of thousands of slan people who fell by way of faith comprising a photomosaic of a brain.

“Clearly, now…clearly,” Mohammad started. “This young female has no clue what the power of Allah has for this nation. As I run for president of the United States, I will continue to tie the state with faith and eradicate outbursts like this.”

A pressman, Gray Parker, spoke next.

“While this young woman’s actions may not be sanctioned by you, do you agree with her right to free speech?”

“There should only be speech spoken by those with the Islamic faith.”

“How can you tell that?”

Mohammad smirked. “We can weed out the Americans who do not wish to submit to the religion of peace and will be dealt with according to the Hadīth.”

Milly then dropped her sign and exposed a sawed-off twelve gauge shotgun. She fired three times and watched Mohammad fall back. Milly was not arrested for her actions. The press people actually cheered for her and Mohammad’s “security” came from the back of the stage applauding.

She found her way to the platform to ensure that Mohammad had been killed.

Once she was satisfied with the outcome of her act of physical force, she grinned. Then, she stepped over Mohammad’s corpse and addressed the press.

“Yes, Fabian Hurt.”

“Now that we see that the Prophet is no more, what will replace his ideals? Who will stand to further the case that he championed?”

“Firstly, his ideals will not be replaced. I will fill out the necessary forms that will permit me to run under a platform of separating the state from thought, discovering knowledge, financial concerns, and the schools. With privatized everything except government guns and a judiciary, we will be lightyears from our dead ‘friend’ here.”

The press began to applaud Milly. From the back of the aisle to the front, a wave of support built up like pressure beneath a geyser. Milly had more to say.

“I want to make it plain that I will run on the ticket of freedom. This is not the wishy-washy or bromide filled idea of liberty but the true sense of leaving people alone until they violate the rights of anyone else. That's the way out of this mess and to greet the sun of a new morning.”

The press parted as Milly descended from the stage and walked between them.