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Without warning Sam felt a sharp pain on top of his head as a hand darted from the darkness and grabbed his hair.

With evil satisfaction the voice behind the hand snickered, "look what we have here
, a panicked little Dhimmi, ha, ha?"

Sam recognized the voice.
It belonged to that predatorial bully from the building next door.

He became enraged and began to resist. Quickly reaching around over his head Sam dug his nails as deep as he could into the offending hand

The bully screamed. "You little roach,
pay up now or I'll rip out all your hair."

Sam was convinced the predator deliberately switched off the lights just to rob him of the few cents his Mother left him before she went to work.

The vulture always called Sam's money as his rightful money. A
Jizyah, a kind of tax that Dhimmis, and Kafirs, are compelled to pay to Muslims.

While struggling violently in the darkened hallway, the front door swung open outlining the predator's rival in an unearthly light.
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