Hypocrites should be paid with barefaced fabrication. In this way there will be a little justice in this world. This reminds me of a story:
Three poor pilgrims were proceeding on the long road back from Mecca. It so happens that one of them was our Hodja who had joined the other two that same day. After the evening prayers, Nasrudin extracted from his meagre bag a flatbread and told his companions:
“This is what I have. What do you bring?”
“Our bags are empty. It is Allah The Nourisher who will provide our food!”
“We can share my bread,” offered Nasrudin.
“Certainly not!” said one of the pilgrims. “This is a small piece of bread, sufficient just for one. We must wait until Allah will give us a sign showing who shall eat it.”
“He’s right,” added the second. “Let’s sleep now. The one of us who has the dream most beautiful among us three will deserve to eat this morsel by himself, inch Allah.”
Because of this, Nasrudin went to sleep hungry.
Next morning, one of the pilgrims told his dream:
“I deserve the bread," he declared. "In my sleep I had a miraculous vision. Gardens watered by fountains and running streams, blue skies, cool shade, white flowers and ripe fruit, innocent cups of red wine passed from hand to hand... When I saw the wide, dark eyed huri reclining on their silver thrones I knew I was in Paradise. This is a clear message. Allah has spoken his wish: I must have the flatbread.”
“Wait a minute,” said the second traveller. “Just listen to my dream and marvel. I was taken by a celestial hand and transported to an indescribably bright place, a castle of light in all colours where, with my own hand and lips, I touched, and then kissed, the left slipper of the Prophet, peace be upon him. And he even smiled at me and opened his hand, as if to give me whatever I should like. The bread should be mine.”
“I am so pleased for you both,” said the Hoca. “You had such enviable colourful visions! How lucky you are!"
As the travellers glanced at Nasrudin's bag, and one was about to say something. Nasrudin continued:
"I too had a dream, but it was not so beautiful. This night, in my vision, from a black, cold abyss, Allah The Nourisher told me in a plain voice and without showing Himself in any way: 'Miserable mortal and sinner, wake up and eat your poor bread. This is all you deserve and you will have nothing else this night!'
"What could I do but obey Allah's order? I did what He told me. I got up, ate the bread, and went back to sleep."