Hookah

“Here is how it’s going to be played,” the Executioner says. “I will ask you a question.” He is talking to me. I’ve become his priority now. He thinks I am mad, and it amuses him. “If you give the right answer, you will pass for this round. If it’s wrong, I will shoot you.”
“Suspenseful.” The Pillar puffs his cigar. “I love suspense.”
“Then it’ll be your turn to ask me a question.” The Executioner is still talking to me. “If I answer it the wrong way, you can shoot me.”
“Justice,” the Pillar says nonchalantly. “Not a fan.”
“Then Senor Pillardo will join in,” the Executioner follows. “Easy game. Say the truth and you will live.”
“How can you tell I am telling the truth when you ask me?” I say.
“The same way you can tell I am telling the truth when I ask you.” The Executioner grins.
“Nonsense,” the Pillar comments. “My favorite.”

“Well, I’m not satisfied,” The Queen pouted. “More. More. More. I want every child to become an orphan. Every mother to become childless. Every father to lose his family. I don’t care if it’s contradictory. Just find a way to do it.” She strolled all over the place. “I want fascism. Oh, I love that. I want every human to hate another human for being different. Not just color or nationality. I want those with crooked noses to hate those with round noses. Those who have mustaches to hate those who don’t. Do you understand?”