'Mr Taliban?' Hamza thought to himself. 'He didn't just say that?' Hamza did a quick threat assessment of the middle aged fat man moving toward him. Hamza remained in a kneeling position. There was no sense for both of them to go into the water. As the man maneuvered himself closer, Hamza made a quick jab with his left fist into the man's groin who crumpled up into the fetal position.<br/><br/>"Mommy," the fat man murmured as he grabbed at his testicles. He figured now was as good a time as any to offer that olive branch.<br/><br/>"As a matter of fact, I have a bunch of bananas in this bag. Would anyone like one?" Hamza offered the survivors. "You might want to put an ice pack on that, sir." Hamza held up the bananas, offering them to the other survivors. "Oh yea, what is up with this<span style="font-style: italic">Taliban</span>comment? You think all Middle Eastern men are with Taliban?" Hamza presented his best disarming smile.  "I am Habib Najafi, a warehouse manager from near Tehran, Iran. Very nice to make your acquaintance."