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MidReal Story
The Betrayal of Kabul
Scenario:This is a story about osama Bin Laden, also known as the leader of al-queda and the old president of Afghanistan. Also, the old friend of doland trump since in 1978 doland trump and osama shook hands and then in 2001 osama betrayed doland trump and caused the world trade centrals to fall
Create my version of this story
Doland trump
Osama bin laden
I, Osama bin Laden, also known as the leader of al-queda and the old president of Afghanistan.
I am wearing a white turban and robe, with a long, dark beard.
I am in a traditional Middle Eastern setting, with intricate designs on the walls.
Suddenly, a man walks in and I stand up to greet him.
It is Donald Trump, a businessman from New York.
He is dressed in a suit with a white shirt and blue tie.
We shake hands and sit down at a table.
Mr. Trump, it is an honor to meet you.
I am surprised to hear from you.
The pleasure is mine, Osama.
I have heard a lot about your work and admire your dedication to the cause.
I am curious to learn more about you and your organization.
Yes, of course.
I am happy to tell you more.
As you know, I am a sunni Muslim.
I believe that we should not be controlled by any government or non-Muslims.
We should not be oppressed or persecuted for our faith.
We should be free to practice our religion as we see fit.
I understand that you are also a religious man, Mr. Trump?
Yes, I am a Christian, Osama.
I believe in God and pray every day.
I also believe that everyone should be free to practice their religion as they see fit.
I agree with you, Mr. Trump.
It is important that we are able to practice our religion without fear of persecution or harm.
I notice Osama fidgeting with his turban as we continue to talk.
He looks around the room nervously.
Is everything alright, Osama?
I ask.
He hesitates before answering.
Yes, of course.
I am just a little concerned about being here, he says.
About what?
I ask.
About being seen with you, he replies.
I am a sunni Muslim and I do not want anyone to know that I am meeting with a non-Muslim.
I do not want to be judged or criticized for my beliefs.
I understand your concerns, Osama.
But I assure you that our conversation is confidential and that I respect your faith.
He nods, still adjusting his turban nervously.
We continue talking about our shared views on religious freedom and the importance of being able to practice one's beliefs without fear of persecution or harm.
"Osama, there's something you should know," Trump leans in, lowering his voice.
"What is it, Mr. Trump?" Osama asks, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.
"I have a proposal that could change everything for both of us," Trump reveals, a sly smile playing on his lips.
Osama's eyes widen in surprise.
"What kind of proposal?"
He asks, his voice filled with curiosity.
Trump leans in closer, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I have a plan to build a series of luxury hotels across the Middle East," Trump explains.
"It will be a massive undertaking, but I believe it could be incredibly profitable for both of us."
Osama's eyes light up with excitement.
"Tell me more," He says, leaning forward in his chair.
Trump smiles, pleased that Osama is interested in his proposal.
"The hotels will cater to wealthy tourists who are looking for a luxurious experience in the Middle East," Trump explains.
"We will build them in some of the most beautiful locations, such as Dubai and Abu Dhabi. They will be equipped with all the latest amenities and will offer world-class service."
Osama nods thoughtfully, considering Trump's proposal.
"That sounds like a great idea," He says finally.
"But how do you plan to fund such a large project?"
Trump smiles again, confident that he has thought of everything.
"I have already secured funding from several wealthy investors," He explains.
"And I have also received support from several governments in the region."
Osama nods, impressed by Trump's connections.
"That is very impressive," He says.
"But what about security? How will you protect the hotels from terrorist attacks?"
Trump chuckles, shaking his head.
"That is not a problem," He assures Osama.
"I have already spoken with several government officials and they have agreed to provide extra security for the hotels." Osama nods again, seemingly satisfied with Trump's answers.
"I think this is a great opportunity for both of us," He says finally.
"I am willing to invest in this project and help you secure funding."
Trump smiles, pleased that Osama is on board with his proposal.
"Thank you, Osama," He says, extending his hand to shake.
"I look forward to working with you."
Osama shakes Trump's hand, smiling back at him.
"I am excited about this opportunity," He says.
"Let us make it happen."
Trump nods, smiling confidently as he stands up from his chair.
"Let us make it happen," He repeats, turning to leave the room. As I walk away from the meeting with Osama bin Laden, I can't help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment.
I had just convinced one of the most notorious terrorists in the world to invest in my business venture, and I was confident that it would be a success.
"Osama, there's another layer to this plan," Trump says, his tone turning serious.
"What do you mean?" Osama asks, a hint of caution in his voice.
"We'll need to ensure that the hotels also serve as discreet meeting points for influential figures," Trump reveals, watching Osama's reaction closely.
Osama's eyes widen slightly, and he pauses for a moment before responding.
"I see," He says, his voice measured.
"And what kind of figures are we talking about?"
Trump leans in closer, his voice taking on a conspiratorial tone.
"Politicians, business leaders, anyone who can help us further our interests," He explains.
"But we'll need to keep this aspect of the project confidential. We can't afford to have it leak out to the press."
Osama nods, a calculating look in his eyes.
"I understand," He says.
"And I'm willing to help you with this. But I have one condition."
Trump raises an eyebrow, intrigued by Osama's demand.
"What is it?"
He asks.
"I want a guarantee that you'll protect my interests in this venture," Osama says, his voice firm.
"I want to make sure that I'm not putting myself at risk by investing in your project."
Trump nods, a smile spreading across his face.
"I can assure you that I'll do everything in my power to protect your interests," He says.
"And I'll make sure that you're well compensated for your involvement."
Osama nods, seemingly satisfied with Trump's response.
"Very well," He says.
"I'm willing to move forward with this project. But let's keep it discreet for now. We don't want to attract any unwanted attention."
Trump nods, a smile still plastered on his face.
"Agreed," He says.
"And let's get started on making this vision a reality."
As we concluded our meeting, I couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation.
I had just secured a deal with one of the most notorious terrorists in the world, and I was confident that it would be a success. As I walked away from the meeting with Osama bin Laden, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease.
Something didn't feel right about this deal, and I had a nagging feeling that things were going to go very wrong very quickly.
I tried to push these thoughts aside and focus on the potential benefits of the deal, but they lingered in the back of my mind like a nagging voice.
As I walked back to my hotel room, I couldn't help but wonder if I had made a grave mistake by getting involved with Osama bin Laden and his terrorist organization.
But for now, I pushed these doubts aside and focused on making the best of the situation.
I sat across from Osama in a dimly lit room, the air thick with tension.
He fidgeted nervously, glancing at the door every few seconds.
"What's troubling you?"
I asked, trying to sound casual despite the unease that was growing inside me.
Osama's eyes darted around the room before he leaned in closer to me.
"My father, Mummand, is meeting with someone important," He whispered urgently.
"Who is it?"
I asked, intrigued by the sudden change in his demeanor.
Osama hesitated for a moment before answering.
"Barack Obama," He said, his voice barely above a whisper.
The name hung in the air like a storm cloud, threatening to unleash a torrent of chaos and destruction.
Osama's fingers drummed nervously on the table as he continued to speak in hushed tones.
"He's been meeting with him for weeks now. I'm not sure what they're discussing, but I have a feeling that it's something big."
I leaned forward, my heart pounding in my chest as I tried to process the information that Osama had just shared with me.
"Why does this concern you?"
I asked, trying to keep my voice steady despite the fear that was growing inside me. Osama glanced around the room nervously before answering.
"My family has a history of betraying one another," He said quietly.
"My father betrayed his own brother many years ago, and now I fear that he's planning to do the same to me."
I nodded sympathetically, trying to understand the complex web of relationships and alliances that existed within Osama's family.
"But why would your father want to betray you?"
I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.
Osama's eyes narrowed as he leaned in closer to me.
"There are secrets that I know," He whispered urgently.
"Secrets that could bring down our entire organization if they fell into the wrong hands."
Just then, a loud knock on the door interrupted our conversation and sent both of us jumping out of our seats.
