Transcription
Long ago in Medina, a shady guy named Labid bin Al-Assam from Bani Zurich decided to pull the ultimate prank. He worked some serious black magic on Prophet Muhammad.
The result? The poor man started believing he'd been very busy with his wives every night. Spoiler, he hadn't touched any of them. Peace be with you. I have brought fresh tea.
Yeah, Aisha. Masha. Last night was fire. You were incredible. Best wife award goes to you.
Last night, you came home, ate dates, complained about your back, then fell asleep snoring like a camel. I didn't even get a good night kiss.
What? Don't play games with me, woman. I distinctly remember the passion, the closeness, the you know.
The only thing close last night was your face to the pillow. You've been busy in your dreams for weeks. Habibi, maybe lay off the late night. Honey.
Are you calling me a liar?
I'm just saying if it was that good, I'd remember. Trust me. Jirea, my desert rose. Last night was magical. You're glowing today.
Magical. I spent last night grinding flour and dodging your snores from the next room. Nobody touched me, not even a hug for months.
Wait, then who?
Don't look at me. I've been reading poetry alone every night.
Nope, not me either. Your zeal for four yada.
This is impossible. I felt everything. The warmth, the the finale. You're all in on this conspiracy.
Conspiracy?
Right?
I'm losing my mind.
Uhoh. How is this possible? I swear I felt it all. The squeeze, the rush, the big finish. But every wife says, "Nope, not me." Am I hallucinating? Did I Did I imagine the whole thing?
With whom exactly did I do that then? How long have I been like this? Hey, ladies, I'm talking here. What's wrong with you? Who did this to me? Have you ever heard of a true prophet being possessed by magic?
Told you. Zero action with us.
Indeed, not with us.
And that's how black magic turned The Prophet's Knights into the world's most confusing romcom. Moral of the story, don't mess with a sorcerer with naughty intentions or goats with good timing.