Talking with friends, we were all a bit incredulous as to how come Italy has not undergone an attack on the order of Madrid, London or Bali. After all, the Italians were (and still are) a part of the 'Coalition of the Willing' to go into Iraq with America.
And then, I received this humorous entry from an Italian friend – I’ve taken the liberty of translating it (liberally), although the author is unknown. So as not to plagiarize our witty auteur, I will quote:
“Two terrorists, intent on wreaking havoc on the infidels of the Bel Paese, arrive in Naples. This is how it went:
Arrival in Naples from Turkey.
They leave airport only 8 hours after arrival, having waited all day for their bags which never arrived. And while the airport baggage service declined any responsibility, they are advised to try again the next day…after all, one never knows…
They get in a taxi. The (illegal) taxi driver checks them out in the rear view mirror, and, seeing that they’re foreigners, takes them for a ride around the entire city in over an hour and a half.
Even after the taxometer reaches over 200 euro, they prefer not to pipe up. But, to their misfortune, arriving at the traffic circle of Villaricca, the taxi slows down and in slides an accomplice. After having beaten them nearly to death and taken all their money, they leave the poor souls at Rione 167 near Secondigliano.
Lunedì ore 04:30
Upon reawakening from their tortuous adventure, the terrorists manage to get to their hotel near the Stock Exchange. In the morning, they decide to rent a car from Hertz in the Piazza Municipio. They start to head back towards the airport, but just before reaching Piazza Mazzini, they’re blockaded by a street protest against the garbage, united by students, no-global protesters and a mix of unemployed neapolitans.
Lunedì ore 12:30
Finally in Piazza Garibaldi, they decide to exchange some more money. Their dollar bills are promptly exchanged for 100 euro in counterfeit money.
Lunedì ore 15:45
Once at the Capodichino Airport, they intend to set in motion their plan to hijack a plane so that they can crash it into the Enel Electric tower and headquarters.
Unfortunately, Alitalia pilots are on strike; asking to quadruple their salaries and work fewer hours.
Joining them are the Air Traffic Controllers who also ask that each passenger checks and stamps their own flight paths, just as the train passengers do with their tickets ("after all, what kind of controllers are we?", they ask).
The only available plane is Maradona Air, going to Alghero (Sardinia), with 18 hours delay. The staff and passengers are camped out in the waiting rooms singing Sardinian folk songs mixed with slogans against the government and pilots.
Suddenly, they are descended upon my maurading gangs, 'the celerini', who begin to wreak havoc on the passengers, striking our two terrorists with particular fury.
Finally, things appear to calm down. The Sons of Allah, covered in blood, go up to the Maradona Air counter to purchase two tickets instead to Sassari, so they may hijack it and ram it into the Enel tower.
They are sold the tickets but, unbeknownst to them, the flight has already been cancelled.
At this point, the terrorists argue over whether to continue their mission or not—they can’t decide whether destroying Naples is an act of terrorism or one of god-given charity.
Starving, they decide to grab a bite to eat at the airport restaurant. They get frittata sandwiches with a bit of mussels.
Overcome by a wicked case of food poisoning from the frittata, they end up in the San Gennaro Hospital. They’re forced to spend all night in the hallway of the Emergency Room. It would have all passed in a few days, if it hadn’t been for the bad case of cholera which ensued, caused by the mussels.
After 12 days in the hospital, they find themselves nearby the San Paolo stadium. Naples has just lost an at-home game against the up and coming Palermo, 3-0, after two penalty kicks going to the Sicilians and given by the Referee, Concettino Riina da Corleone.
A band of ultra nazi-skin fans from the “Masseria Cardone”, upon seeing the two dark-skinned men, mistakes them for Palermo fans and then proceeds to pummel them to a pulp. Adding insult to injury, the boss of the ultra group, a certain “Peppo o’Ricchione”, sexually abuses them both.
Satisfied, the ultras finally leave. The two terrorists decide to get drunk (even if it’s a sin!) for the first time in their lives. In a little hovel near the port, they are served wine tainted with methanol and again the two ne'er-do-wells find themselves admitted once again to San Gennaro for toxicity.
The doctors discover them to have the HIV virus (a little gift from Peppo).
The two terrorists escape from Italy on a homemade raft heading toward Libia.
Still queasy from the methanol, and with the onset of a variety of infections from the HIV, they swear by Allah that they will never ever make such another attempt to attack the Bel Paese, as long as they live."