Skeleton disrespect? I'll tell you about skeleton disrespect.
One time me and my brothers were traveling through the city of Kandahar on a routine patrol. We had just finished lighting up some hashish at a fast food joint and luckily ended up finding a lone American tourist wandering the streets. We jumped him to steal his shit, and lo and behold he had a custom bong on him. He begged for us to give it back, muttered to our translator in between tears that the bong was moulded from the skull of his father, a famous historic weed grower from Springfield, and when he died he had his skull made into a customized bong to carry on his legacy of blazeing dank kush.
The man we mistook as a tourist was apparently a former Marine. He explained he was traveling to Mecca to avenge the death of his father by Arab hands, but he failed. Before his father died, he was cursed by an Islamic sorcerer, and turned Islamic. The Marine's plan was to travel to the Kabaa and renounce Allah's grip on his father, thereby breaking the Islamic curse that doomed his father to eternal Islamic hell. Needless to say, me and my men would have no such thing, and ended up crushing the skull beneath our feet in front of the cowering infidel. We left him for dead, forced to forever wander into the desert without food, water, or dank. He was never seen again.
Legends say that if you listen closely during the early morning hours of April 20th, you can still hear the man mourning his long-lost father, and if you're lucky you might be able to see clouds of haunted kush float gently through the burial grounds like a morning breeze. But that's just a story... right?