The following is a work of satire, and the fifth part in “The Satan Series,” which poignantly chronicles the journeys of Middle Eastern terrorists and genocidal leaders as they embark on a one-way trip to hell. Past honorees have included Iranian President Ibrahim Raisi, Hamas head Ismael Haniyeh, many Hezbollah members who would rather not see a pager again, and Oct. 7 mastermind Yahya Sinwar and his run-in with notorious Hezbollah leader Hassan Nasrallah.
17 Sivan 5785 in the Jewish calendar
23 Khordad 1404 in the Persian calendar
June 13, 2025 in the Gregorian calendar (also known as 613)
Somewhere in the depths of hell, seventh floor. Satan’s dutiful, but anxiety-prone assistant, Sergio, is patiently waiting outside a heavy, closed door and biting his claws. A gray-haired custodian named Carl approaches him.
Carl: Penny for your thoughts?
Sergio: Can you tell something’s wrong?
Carl: Young man, the last time you stood at a doorway and bit your claws like this, Dr. Freud had just arrived. He was angry and thought it best to speak with Satan’s mother.
Sergio: If you must know, I’m waiting for Master to finish his late night sound bath to tell him some very big news.
Carl: Israel’s nuclear strikes in Iran? I know.
Sergio: You do?
Carl: Everyone knows. The guards had to muzzle hundreds in the organized crime bunk cells because they were making such a fuss. Especially the Jewish gangsters.
Sergio, shaking his head: That means Master will be the last one to know! I’m never going to get that end-of-the-summer bonus or that weekend trip to Florida.
The door opens and Satan, dressed in a loose-fitting, organic cotton kaftan, stretches and takes a deep breath.
Sergio: Pleasant sound bath tonight, Master?
Satan: One of the best. Instead of gongs and chimes, I asked Lenny to play my favorite sounds on a tuning fork.
Carl: Screams and pleas?
Satan: No. Much worse. I asked them to play the soundtrack to “Hannah Montana: The Movie.” Truly relaxing.
Sergio: Oh, Master. Is there nothing you cannot withstand?
Satan smiles coyly.
Sergio, taking a deep breath: Master, we need to talk.
Satan, speaking calmly: Sergio, despite your track record, nothing you say can ruin my mood. Not even if Bashar Al-Assad comes tumbling down from Russia.
Sergio: Master, we are making all of the necessary preparations. Please remember that we have been preparing for this moment since 1996.
Satan, scoffing: You’re acting as if it’s time for Code 530.
Sergio: [silence]
Satan: Sergio?
Satan looks at Carl.
Satan: Carl?
Satan looks at both Sergio and Carl: You’re kidding. Don’t kid about that.
Sergio: Yes, Master. “Operation Persian Patties” has commenced, though the Israelis are calling it something else.
Satan, biting his claws: No!
Sergio: Yes.
Satan: There was a lot of talk this week, but how could this have happened so soon?! I knew I shouldn’t have done that sound bath after midnight. Does everyone else know?
Sergio: I’m afraid so.
Satan’s newly-hired second assistant, Robby, arrives panting and holding a large clipboard.
Robby: Code 530, Master! CODE 530! It has begun!
Sergio, appearing threatened: He knows, Robby. And get your own clipboard!
Satan asks for a chair: This can’t be. Whom did they eliminate? [General] Salami?
Robby: Yes.
Satan: What about Pastrami? Smoked Turkey?
Robby, caught visibly off guard: Uh, let me check my papers.
Sergio: He’s kidding, you fool!
Robby: I’m sorry. I don’t understand. Isn’t this some kind of massive emergency?
Satan: It’s alright, Robby. Sergio and Carl know I tend to make bad jokes when I’m about to foam at the mouth with stress. So Israel got the head of the IRGC (Iranian Revolutionary Guards Corps)? What about Bagheri?
Robby, quickly scanning some papers: The chief-of-staff of the armed forces? Yes.
Satan: Shamkhani?
Robby: Uh, I believe so. Was he the one who was representing Iran at talks with Saudi Arabia?
Satan: Yes. The Saudis must be thrilled. What about Hajizadeh?
Robby, appearing flustered and dropping his papers: I…I don’t know! It’s all too much!
Satan: Calm down, Robby! On your resume, you said you had experience with high-stress situations. What are you going to do if Khamenei arrives?! Wait, he isn’t here, is he? Carl, run and get me some antacids from the fourth floor!
Sergio: We believe Khamenei is still alive, Master.
Satan: Good. His room isn’t ready and neither am I. Are you all sure it’s really happening? Did Israel hit Natanz?
Sergio: Yes.
Satan: Tehran?
Sergio: Yes.
Satan: Kermanshah?
Sergio: Yes.
Satan: Tabriz?
Sergio: Yes, including the airport.
Satan: Piranshahr and Sardasht and Fordo and Isfahan?
Sergio: Yes, yes, yes, and yes.
Robby: You know so much about Iranian geography, Master!
Satan, appearing falsely modest: Well, Idi Amin and I vacationed there briefly in the Sixties.
Sergio, under his breath: I bet it wasn’t as nice as Florida.
Satan: This is unbelievable. Show me on a map.
Robby: The map is ready, Master. I have drawn little red circles at the site of every strike.
Satan: Iran’s face looks like an ad for pimple cream. Never mind. The sites don’t matter. How many arrivals are we expecting now?
Sergio, clearing his throat: Uh, they’re already here. The guards have them in a holding cell on the second floor with strict orders not to offer anyone water, Persian tea, or eye masks.
Satan: Oh, G-d.
A powerful, stern voice calls to Satan from high above.
G-d: I told you not to drag me into your matters down there, Be-elzee.
Satan, caught off guard: I’m so sorry. It was a slip of the tongue.
Robby: Be-elzee?
Satan: It’s a nickname. Forget it. Sergio, this is serious. Israel wouldn’t bother with the low-level scum. These arrivals must have a lot of blood on their hands. How many are there? Three? Four?
Robby: We’re at —
Sergio pushes Robby to the side.
Sergio: Last count stood at 20, Master.
Satan: 20?! Oh, G-d, that’s double a minyan.
G-d: I warned you!
Satan, cowering: I’m sorry! Carl, where are those antacids?! Sergio, have my prodding rods come back from the welder? Make sure there are at least 20. And are the burning-hot coals hot enough?
Sergio: I will check right away. And as for the new arrivals, I believe most of them were previously in a meeting together at an underground command center in Iran. This operation involved over 200 Israeli aircraft, and over 300 munitions were dropped.
Satan: And the response?
Sergio: So far, 100 Iranian drones, all shot down.
Satan: No retaliatory missiles?
Satan checks his watch and announces that it is only 6 a.m.
Carl: May I tell Master, Sergio? This is really something.
Sergio, sighing: Go ahead.
Carl: Israel had actual Mossad agents on the ground! It made a secret drone base in Iran which attacked most of Iran’s missile infrastructure, including surface-to-air and surface-to-surface missiles. Master.
Satan: How do you know so much about weapons, Carl?
Carl: For some reason, I started watching a lot of World War Two documentaries on The History Channel after I turned 50. Israel even hid precision missiles inside rocks throughout Iran. Rocks!
Satan: But the Iranian ballistic missiles must be coming.
Robby: We just received an urgent fax, Master.
Satan, looking up toward G-d in heaven: Would it be the end of the world if we had better wifi, or any wifi, down here?!
Robby: A bunch of Iranian nuclear scientists have been eliminated as well.
Satan: I hate when their scientists arrive here. They’re always commenting on the core temperatures or asking me if hell has any centrifuges.
Robby: Master, there’s a problem on the ninth floor.
Satan, wiping the sweat off his brow: What is it now?
Robby: Uh, Sergio, would you like to tell him?
Sergio: This one’s all yours, kid.
Robby: Well, it seems that Yasser Arafat, [Sheik] Ahmed Yassin, Ismael Yaniyeh, and Yahya Sinwar have all sustained serious injuries while fighting to see who could share a fiery cell with the new Iranian butchers.
Satan: Let them keep fighting. But order a few more prodding rods before Amazon hikes up the prices over the weekend. And Sergio?
Sergio: Yes, oh Wretched One?
Satan: Cancel all of my sound baths for the next two weeks.
Tabby Refael is an award-winning writer, speaker, and weekly columnist for The Jewish Journal of Greater Los Angeles. Follow her on X and Instagram @TabbyRefael
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