Bill Gates: In Hiding From a Fatwa

It’s been three years since Bill Gates converted to Islam, two years since our first interview with him, and a year since he became an apostate.

So what’s happened since he left the Ummah and took up calypso last year?

Gates of Vienna ran into the former sheikh and software magnate on the Streets of San Francisco. He asked me for spare change, and I did a double take when I realized who he was — with the scraggly beard, baseball cap, and nicotine-stained teeth, I barely recognized him.

“Mr. Gates, is it really you?” I asked.

He squinted at me suspiciously and said, “What’s it to ya, bro?”

I bought him a pack of Lucky Strikes and a bottle of Wild Irish Rose in an attempt to break through his reserve, and we adjourned to the nearby Panhandle so that he could enjoy his good fortune in the shade. He lit a Lucky while crossing the street into the park, and when a mendicant transvestite approached him in an attempt to cadge a cigarette, he snarled, “Sod off, poofter!” without even breaking stride.


Gates settled down at a picnic table in the shade, and after a long pull from his bottle, he agreed to answer a few questions. Another homeless guy approached and was introduced to me as Bonesaw as Gates handed him a cigarette. “We’re even, now,” growled Gates.

Bonesaw gave me a gap-toothed grin. “That Sliderule! He allus knows how many he owes. He still got what it takes up here, ya know?” he said, tapping the side of his head.

“Sliderule?”

I looked at the erstwhile billionaire.

“Yeah, that’s what they call me ’round here now.”

And then we settled down for the interview:
- - - - - - - - -

GoV:		So what happened? How did you end up here on the streets?
Sliderule:		Well, as you can see, I come on hard times. When I gave up Islam it went OK for a while. But then I lost my shirt in the record business — it’s always easy to do that, but I bet on a vinyl comeback, which turned out to be a bad idea — and them sheikhs, they don’t wanna know ya when your cash flow dries up, know what I mean? So party time was over. They said I was, like, apostate, and the motherf****rs took out a fatwa on me! I had to lay low after that.
GoV:		And you were broke?
Sliderule:		Nah, not yet. But bodyguards are expensive, and all that Kevlar and s**t, it adds up. Then I got kidnapped.
GoV:		Kidnapped?
Sliderule:		Yeah, six times, actually. First time by Hezbollah, then by a couple of Brotherhood dudes, then by Jaish-e-Mohammed, and… I forget the others. All those dumbass Pakistani gangs look alike to me. Anyhow, by the time my people finished payin’ off the ransom on the last one, I was cleaned out. Third mortgage on the palace in Redmond, ya know, and then the bottom fell outta the f***in’ market, man. So here I am, Mr. Bill Friggin’ Gates, hotshot stumblebum. [Taking another pull from the bottle.] I gotta stay outta sight now, y’know? ’Cos if they kidnap me again, an’ I can’t pay no ransom, they gonna smite me. Be cuttin’ on my neck, for sure.
GoV:		So why here?
Sliderule:		The headbangers don’t like to come down here too much. Too many pansies, know what I mean? But I don’t really like it here. Too cold an’ foggy. I’m thinkin’ ’bout movin’ on…
GoV:		But where will you go?
Sliderule:		Well, I’m lookin’ into Kansas City; they got a huge hog market there. I figger I might be safe there for a while.
GoV:		Since you have to live without bodyguards…
Sliderule:		Yeah, exactly. And then there’s this little town in North Georgia where don’t nobody do nothin’ but raise dogs. Dogs, all breeds and sizes, from one end of town to t’other. That’s another possibility…

Sliderule’s voice trailed off as he turned towards Bonesaw and gave an almost imperceptible nod. The two men rose simultaneously and sauntered away, trailing a cloud of Lucky Strike smoke as they disappeared into the trees.