My Letter: Dear LT. Governor Patrick, Why are you so obsessed with this made up Bathroom Danger stuff. A person who is transitioning from a man to a woman is not just a man dressing up as a woman so that he can sneak into a Women's Bathroom to rape Women. People being in a body that is the wrong gender for who they are is a real medical diagnosis, and I'm sure no one enters into that kind of change lightly, I imagine some of the procedures are not ones you would undergo unless you were ABSOLUTELY sure. I would just ask you to remember that just because some of us are different does not make us any less Human Beings. Sincerely, Matt THE STORM Lucas Beckett. His Response: Dear MR. Beckett, Thank you for writing to me concerning The Bathroom Bill. I appreciate hearing from all of my constituents. That said, it appears to me that you are a deeply troubled young man, both in your confusion about what is really going on with so-called "Gender Reassignment" and with regard to your own sexuality. I know much is being said today about letting people be themselves, but I myself still firmly believe that Homosexuality is a Mental and Spiritual Illness, and while I abhor the very idea, which some advocate, of murder in any form, I do believe that treatment is the best option for people like you. If you are interested, I can offer some names of places that offer Conversion Therapy, also called Corrective Therapy, for your consideration. Even if you are not ready now, maybe someday you will be, so why not get them now? As always, I appreciate your thoughts and it is an honor to serve you and all Texans. Dan Patrick, LT. Governor, Texas. Interesting how he ends it the same way as all his letters, despite its contents. After sending those other two letters to the editor, I began to worry about the legal ramifications of publishing someone else's actual email, but this is a word for word exact transcription of our exchange, that shows his true character, even if as such it would not "hold up in Court" without the original, and showing his character is the point of publicizing this letter.

WARRIORS OF THE STORM, PART THREE

LET THE THUNDER STRIKE! The Boy's trunk stretched even more as Luke's ejaculation doubled in intensified up his left nostril and Sampson's and the younger Samuel's did the same up his right, and it trumpeted even more as he gave a roar with his mouth and both echoed throughout The Fortress of Thunder as he shot mountains of semen up Luke's trunk and all of the other couples did as close as their partners' nostrils could take up each others. Roars and trumpets erupted from every mouth and every trunk, and snouts and extremely big noses did the best they could to imitate their companions' larger nostrils' sounds. “Let The Thunder Strike!” roared The Boy. “Let The Thunder strike!” Luke and the rest of them all echoed. The roars and trumpets and smaller nostrils' noises flew throughout The Fortress of Thunder, filling every room with its deafening boom and roar. Then it all flew through the huge double doors of The Fortress of Thunder and out into the Convention Center where the battle still raged between the still living Thunder Boys and the remaining forces of hate and violence. * * * “LET THE THUNDER STRIKE! Joshua, blow your trumpet,” cried Matt's voice. Suddenly, at the same moment, a huge trumpet blast emanated from the exact opposite side of the convention center as Matthew's voice and Thunder roared louder than ever from all directions. Then the walls of the Convention Center named Jericho began to crumble and collapse inward. “ONE MORE TIIME!” came the voice o The Boy from within The Fortress of Thunder and Matthew's voice from without simultaneously. People were trying to flee, but The Fortress of Thunder blocked the main exit and walls of lightning blocked all of the others. Gun shots and canon fire rang out, but to no avail. People threw rocks, spears, fists, and anything else they could find, but all in vain. Suddenly, the Thunder flew from The Fortress of Thunder and the hands of all of the still living Thunder Boys who suddenly reappeared totally surrounding the inside of the convention center. Then, all of The Thunder Bolts, roars, trumpets, snorts and other noises from within and without of The Fortress of Thunder came together and merged into a tremendous ball of Thunder right over the center of the arena and then flew straight downward. * * * The ball of Thunder struck the ground right at the center of the arena and then expanded outward, spreading over the whole of the ground and then up into the stands. All of The Thunder Boys raised both hands, gave the loudest exhalation they could with whatever size nasal apparatus they possessed, then vanished as a great boom rocked the whole of the arena and expanded outward far in every direction as blinding blasts of lightning flashed all around and the sound of a tremendous explosion rocked the land for miles in every direction. * * * When the light faded enough to see by, The Fortress of Thunder and all who had spent any time within it, living or dead, had vanished. Only a dark, huge in circumference and seemingly bottomless hole remained where the entire convention center of the 2016 Republican National Convention had stood.

WARRIORS OF THE STORM, PART TWO

THE STORM RELEASED. “Now what are they going to do?” groaned Goliath Jericho. “This,” shouted Matthew, his nostrils now so wide that Paul could not see both ends of his trunk at once. With a smile he stuck both hands up his left nostril while Paul ejaculated up his right and pulled out a flashing and lightning colored stone. Then he held it up towards the sky and gave it a great squeeze. Suddenly, the sound of Thunder erupted from every inch of every single Thunder Boys' bodies. The ball flashed of lightning of every color in the rainbow and more, and the ground began to shake. “You won't get in from below as well,” sneered Philistine Pharaoh. “Our security down there is something not even you could anticipate or fight.” “Oh really?” said Matthew, raising a quizzical eyebrow. “You still think anything you do can stop us?” “Not what we do,” said Pharaoh. “But what we are. What those stationed there have become, I should say.” Matthew felt unconcerned. Everything these people tried would fail. Suddenly, though, he heard screams from below and the roar of some huge animal. “Our beasts will be harder to deal with than us. You are bullet proof, but you're not claw, fang and fire proof.” “You're basing your hopes for survival on myths and legends like dragons?” said Matthew, his nostrils so wide they were starting to turn in on themselves, seeming bored as he raised an eyebrow again. “No,” said Pharaoh. “We used science to turn some of our colleagues into real creatures of myths and legends “ “You turned your colleagues into monsters?” said Matthew, sounding horrified. “That's right,” said Pharaoh. “And even people like you are no match for that.” “Sorry to disappoint you,” said Matthew. “But it is time for you all to learn what releasing The Storm truly means.” He spread his arms as wide as they would go and caught the outer edges of each nostril in the corresponding hand, and all of his comrades took similar action. Then Joshua waved his hand, a trumpet appeared in it and he set it to his lips as they all inhaled as much as they could and then. . . * * * Within The Fortress of Thunder, The Boy shot missiles of Semen up Luke's trunk width nostrils and Luke shot bombs of semen up his. . . was even 'trunk' an adequate word. Suddenly, he felt the sensation of lightning flying up his left nostril and saw Luke's shock at what he could feel had just emerged from his own penis. “They are about to truly release The Storm, then?” asked Mark. The Boy nodded. “It would seem so,” he said. “Matthew's trunk approaches the width of mine, and he has just absorbed The Storm into it.” He considered. “Is there any way we can give them even more power?” he asked. All were silent for a long time. Finally, Peter answered. “Not unless more of them die,” he said. “We're already all ejaculating as much, hard and fast as we can.” The Boy considered another moment. “Very well,” he said. “Then I will do the one thing that I and I alone can still do.” He saw the uncertainty in everyone's faces, even Luke's, gave them all a reassuring smile, then sucked all of the air he could into his super-sized trunk. He waited a moment, then gave such a trumpet from his trunk that were it not for the magic of The Fortress of Thunder, all of their eardrums would have been shattered. “There,” said The Boy. “That will be of aid to them.” * * * Matthew heard the trumpet from within the steadily increasing in solidity fortress as he finished inhaling, knowing that this would give them all the strength they needed for their actions ahead, and then heard Joshua's trumpet sound as he started ton exhale. . . Suddenly, lighting flashed and Thunder rolled from every body, and then all of their bodies exploded in Thunder and lighting. Thunder Bolts struck the ground where each had stood, and lighting balls formed there for just a moment. While the convention attendees who were still alive wondered what had happened, Thunder suddenly rolled and lightning suddenly flashed right around many Republicans' bodies, and some even felt it coming awake within them. Matt's voice came from everywhere at once, although it sounded like words set to Thunder. “That is what truly releasing The Storm means. It means we free The Storm/ourselves from the restraints of physical bodies and become just The Storm itself. Now we are Truly Warriors of The Storm.” “Have mercy!” screamed a very burly man, starting to cry. “Did you have mercy on us?” asked Matt's voice. “Moments before we arrived, you were talking about rounding up Gays and shooting us like fish in a barrel. That is of course what actually was done to us for many years. Also, you have made certain for years that anyone who wanted a gun could get a gun, even people with extensive criminal and or mental health records. Yes, they could not at gun stores, but since they could at gun shows, that made no difference. Manipulating such people into shooting gays, once they had guns, was of course easy enough for those with your mind control skills, and if they said you made them do it, you could always just say that they are crazy and so why should anyone listen to them, because they obviously do not and indeed COULD not know what they are talking about? I ask you, if we, The Thunder Boys, did not exist and had not just appeared, would not this Convention have adopted the proposal to have all Gays shot, in pins or on sight, that was already under review by your National Committee?” “That is the second item on today's agenda,” said a very small man, dressed in devil red. “So?” said Matthew's Thunder Bolt from every direction voice. “You ask us to show you mercy, even as you are preparing to have our brothers and sisters of the Gay variety put to death?” “Show yourselves and you can join them,” shouted a woman with Bathsheba on her name tag. Moments later she screamed as The Thunder struck her from above, below and all around. “No mercy, NO PRISONERS!” shouted Matthew's voice. “You would have given us none, so you shall receive none from us.” The next time the lightning flashed, The Fortress of Thunder had ceased to appear as a hazy apparition, and instead had become a solid structure blocking the main exit. “The Fortress of Thunder is here,” came Matthew's voice. “It is time to . . . !” * * * Within The Fortress of Thunder, the younger Samuel and Sampson's masturbating increased in intensity and fierceness, as did the love making of every couple. “Harder, Faster, MORE!” shouted The Boy. “The Storm is released, and now The Thunder is about to Strike the ground and more. They need all of the strength we can give them, and since they now ARE The Storm, there shall be no more of them added to our numbers, for without physical bodies they can not be killed by physical weapons.” He felt Luke's penis pumping up the inner most part of his left nostril and pushing out missiles, canon balls and bombs of semen, and saw his fellow Thunder Boys doing the best they could, pumping as hard as they could, up each others' exceptionally large noses, snouts and one or two other trunks. He worked as hard as he could up Luke's now trunk, but still he sensed that the other/younger Matthew, who now led the still living Thunder Boys, and all who followed him, needed more. He thought a moment, then gave Luke an inquisitive look, knowing what must happen, but still wanting his Boy-Friend's stamp of approval. Without hesitation, Luke nodded, not even needing The Boy to speak the words, so strong was their connection, as it had been since long before The Storm began. “Hey, Sampson, Samuel,” called The Boy. Both looked up. “Yes, The Boy?” asked Sampson. “Come over here and ejaculate up my right nostril,” said The Boy. “That's the only way we can give the others the power and strength they need to finish this.” Without hesitation, both true boys rose, continuing to ejaculate like mad, walked over and stuck both of their penises up his right nostril. As he felt equal amounts of semen flying up both nostrils, for Luke's ejaculations had as much power as the younger Samuel's and Sampson's combined, The Boy smiled even more broadly. He felt his trunk folding in on itself even more and the ejaculations of all three up it intensify. All around, the ejaculations of everyone else did the same, as did his up Luke's smaller trunk. “The time to end this has come,” said The Boy. “Years, months, weeks, days, hours, minutes and even seconds of preparation have brought us to this point. All time that this needs to take has been taken. The time has come to. . .” HERE ENDS PART TWO OF WARRIORS OF THE STORM, THE STORM RELEASED. PART THREE, WHICH WILL CONCLUDE THIS STORY AND THIS SERIES, WILL BE COMING SOON.

WARRIORS OF THE STORM, PART ONE

THE CATACLYSM AT CONSERVATIVE CENTRAL, PART ONE Security at The Republican National Convention that year was the tightest that it had ever been. There were military and private security all around the grounds, flying fortresses in the air and even some measures taken underground. All to ensure that. . . “Those vigilantes will not be able to disrupt this meeting,” said Kane Lucifer Judas, Chair Person of The Republican National Committee. “Yes, Sir,” said his closet aid, Pilot Kyofus. “No one will disturb this gathering of good, Christian, family values, gun rights etc. . . .” He broke off as his boss held up a hand. “Everyone knows what we stand for. No need to recite the whole thing right now. The Official Speeches will begin soon enough.” As if on cue, there was a whoosh accompanying a huge jet of pure red flame leaping into the air. “It is time,” he said, stepping up to the microphone. “My friends and Comrades in Arms,” he began. “Our nation is at a crossroads, and Dark Forces threaten to take us down the wrong path, whether we wish it or not. I'm sure you are all aware of the seemingly super human group of extremists and vigilantes who call themselves The Thunder Boys, disrupting gatherings of those of us concerned with our Second Amendment, God Given 'Right' to Keep and Bare Arms and of those of us who still respect the laws of God and Nature regarding Romantic/Sexual Relationships. They may have won SOME small battles, but I assure you, we shall still win the war. And they will not get in here, no matter what some may have heard them say at the end of their insignificant attacks. Our first Speaker, MRS. Jezibel. . .” Suddenly, everything went dark, and the mic died. “NO,” Kane cursed under his breath. “Not here. Not today. Our security. . .” Then came a roar of Thunder that spread around the entire planet and then returned and came together with a boom right above the top most spire of the dome of the convention center. “Your Security is nothing to us, The Thunder Boys,” came a deep voice that seemed to be words and a slow and low rumble of Thunder at the same time. “Our Powers can penetrate any of your silly machines and ordinary people. The Conservative Philosophy and The Republican Party, end today. You have hurt enough people with your gun and homophobic obsessions. But all of that is forever at an end. I, the leader of The Still Living Thunder Boys by virtue of my trunk, David-Jesse Son of Jacob declare it so!” “Guns away,” shouted Kane Lucifer Judas. “We know about that. Knives, spears, swords, rocks, fists, etc. out.” In the next instant, physical objects of all sorts were flying in all directions. Bt then, Bolts of Lightning flashed and claps of Thunder roared from all directions, as countless pairs of Thunder Boys came riding in on The Storm. “The Warriors of The Storm have all come together to end your way of thinking and political party once and for all,” announced the owner of the voice whom they had already heard, whose nostrils they now saw far exceeded the outer edges of his face, making it the largest nasal apparatus of any there, although Chairman Judas noticed that all of them had exceptionally large nostrils. His musings ended as a lightning bolt shot straight at him. “Fight!” he screamed at a group of young looking women running for the exit. “We didn't sign up to die,” one shouted back. “Well, then” said a different Thunder Boy materializing in front of them. “You should not have come to this gathering, because none of you are leaving this building alive.” “Right you are, Boaz,” said his partner. Both of them had VERY big noses, but neither's spanned the entire width of their face. “Let's do it, Andrew.” Suddenly, both Boys joined hands, raised them and then brought them down with unbelievable speed. Kane Lucifer Judas had no chance to consider more, for when the four hands finished their descent, a tremendous Thunder Storm erupted right around him and the fleeing women, and when the Thunder struck and the lightning flashed, he was dead even before his body began its incineration, as were the others. * * * David-Jesse trumpeted in triumph upon seeing the demise of The Republican Party Chair Person, then turned his attention back to his own battle against a group of canon firing and catapult shooting very large and burly men and women. “Your kind will never decisively defeat us,” cried one of the women. “Freaks of nature like you will burn in. . .where did you get such a ridiculously large nose, anyway.” “Being Thunder Boys has its benefits,” replied his partner, Samuel. “Among them, the ability to change our physiology as we see fit.” “Does it also help this!” said a nasty voice from the side. Suddenly, David-Jesse felt a large blade tear through the entire end of his left nostril. He turned and threw a huge Thunder Bolt at the attacker, incinerating him before he could even cry out, but he could tell that the blood loss from the left side of his trunk was too great to survive. He and Samuel gazed into each others eyes. Neither shed any tears, for both knew what was coming. Simultaneously, both cried out and fell to the ground. * * * Paul and Mathew saw their comrades fall and then their bodies consumed by lightning and Thunder, and a mix of anger and anticipation filled Matthew's heart. “I guess your the leader now, Matt,” said Paul. “Your amazing snout is the biggest thing left. But we all know that now they will add to our strength.” Matt nodded. “You are right, Paul.” He threw a Thunder Bolt down his mouth to make his voice loud enough to lead. “All right, Boys,” he shouted. “Let's make them pay for that.” Suddenly, there was an explosion like a bomb across the room. Matt and Paul looked across to see several of the enemy lying dead but all of their comrades totally unscathed and looking bored. “They're never going to learn, are they?” asked Paul. “Well, it's too late for them to learn now. . .” Mathew began when. . . “Matthew, Paul, duck,” cried Noah from across the room. Bot ducked just in time to avoid a huge brick, which Moses, fighting back to back with James, made quick work of with a Thunderbolt from a one-handed wave. “Thanks Noah,” called Paul. “Phase Two,” called Mathew, and a roar of Thunder came up from the mouths of all of The Thunder Boys. * * * Within The Fortress of Thunder, David-Jesse and Samuel appeared in the chamber where The Boy and Luke, John and Mark and Peter and Thomas made love with such force that it had amazed them while they were still alive and the true boys, Samson and the younger Samuel, masturbated with similar a vengence. “You know what to do,” ordered The Boy. “So start doing it. The more semen we put out, the more power they take in. You can stare at my trunk wrapped around the width of the room when Samuel is ejaculating up your somewhat smaller trunk David-Jesse and you are ejaculating up his snout.” “Large Snout,” Samuel said, as they both did as their leader had ordered. David-Jesse nodded. “Yes, Samuel, but now is not the time for injured pride.” His boy-friend nodded, and soon they were also sending semen flying up each other's nostrils, although David-Jesse continued to stare at The Boys's trunk every time his eyes left Samuel's face, which was not that often. As one f the “dead” Thunder Boys, the amount of semen the others could put out no longer amazed him, although what e two living boys were managing to shoot out did still seem impossible. As all of their semen flew up each others nostrils and the two younger boys' in all directions, Adam and Steve suddenly appeared in the room as well, and of course instantly began adding their own strength to the fight the still living Thunder Boys waged in the convention center. * * * “Why couldn't you have just let us be?” cried a woman whose name tag read Jezabel Satan, swinging a flaming torch at Abel and Jonah. “Let you be?” Jonah laughed, making his nose so big that Abel started ejaculating in his undershorts. “Who has been saying for decades that we should be thrown out of our churches, our homes our families and either killed as who we are through corrective therapy or physically killed simply for being who nature made s to be?” “Abominations like you do not come from Nature or Nature's God,” screamed Jezabel. “What is Phase Two, anyway?” “This,” cried Jonah, and he sucked a huge breath into his mouth and then blew out of his enlarged snout, only it wasn't air that came out, it was Thunder and lightning. Jezabel screamed as Jonah's Thunder cracked her eardrums and lightning engulfed her body and as Abel pulled down his pants and ejaculated all over her. “Let me die,” she cried. “I'd rather be incinerated than feel a fag's seed all over my skin.” Moments later, her wish was granted, and soon all that remained was a pile of ash with some sperm flakes mixed in. Looking around, Jonah saw that the other pairs had done the same to those they had been battling, but still there were thousands of Republicans in the Convention Center, and all seemed determined to fight to the death. “Well,” said Abel, reading his mind. “We did say that none of them are leaving this place alive, so why wouldn't they fight to their dying breath? I'm sorry, I know you don't like me actually reading your mind, but under the circumstances. . .” Jonah silenced Abel with a quick kiss on the lips, then ducked as Jeremiah called out a warning and just missed getting hit by a huge spear. But it did penetrate Isaiah's left breast, and then he and Joshua cried out and moments later, Jonah knew, were at The Fortress of Thunder. He could even feel the increase in his own and Abel's power, and then they turned towards a man and woman attacking them together with swords, clubs and fire. “This flame will send you to the eternal flame where all of your kind will eventually go,” cried the woman. “Then you will stop destroying families and robbing this country of its founding family values.” “That tired old line again,” Jonah began, when he heard Matthew shouting new orders. * * * “Loose the True Thunder!” cried Mathew. Then all pulled down their pants and simultaneously squeezed their penises, blew outward through their mouths and blew outward through both nostrils. Only it was not semen or mucus or spit or ordinary air that escaped from the holes. Lightning shot from every penis and Thunder and Lightning from every exceptionally large nostril and every mouth. At that moment, a huge building surrounded by Thunder and ringed with Lightning began to flicker in some of the brightest flashes of lightning. “It's almost finished, Matt,” whispered Paul. “Now that The Fortress of Thunder itself has started to come into the physical realm.” Matthew smiled, but it did not feel whole-hearted. “Yes,” he said. “That is the signal of the beginning of the Final Phase, but remember what The Boy told us, the final phase will be the most difficult, the longest, not even finished in a single day, and the most costly in lives, albeit any who die make those of us who are left stronger. I feel that I do now have the strength to fight on as long as it takes, but let us not declare victory until the enemy is no more.” Suddenly, Matthew felt his nostrils starting to grow, and knew that the next sign that The Boy had given them was beginning to occur. “'Only for the current living leader,'” he remembered The Boy saying. Well, he knew that that was him, now. “What next, Matt?” Paul asked, knowing what this sign meant but also knowing that only the one to whom this sign happened held the knowledge of what came next. “Next,” said Matt, smiling as he felt his nostrils exceed the width of his face and the storm brewing inside him. “We release The Storm.” * * * HERE ENDS WARRIORS OF THE STORM, THE CATACLYSM AT CONSERVATIVE CENTRAL, PART ONE. PART TWO WILL CONCLUDE THE STORY AND APPEAR SOME TIME WITHIN THE COMING WEEKS.

When THE BOY Smiles

Matthew felt Luke's canon balls, bombs and missiles of semen flying up his ever expanding nostrils, even as the same sperm projectiles flew from his penis up both nostrils of Luke's enormous snout which was rapidly moving towards a trunk, although nowhere near the size of his trunk. By now, Matthew's nostrils were practically folded halfway around the side walls of the chamber they were in. But even as John and Mark and Paul and David and Joshua and Peter and Adam and Steve and the rest of the "dead" Thunder Boys made love to each other and the true 'boy' Samuel masturbated like there was no tomorrow ('which', he reflected, 'perhaps there was not'), semen flying up nostrils, into mouths and everywhere else and Samuel's all around the room, all eyes were fixed, expectantly, on him. John and Mark had told him that since his trunk was by far the largest nasal apparatus that any of them possessed, The Law of The Thunder Bolt said that he must be the leader of all of The Thunder Boys, inside The Fortress of Thunder, in other words dead, and outside The Fortress of Thunder, in other words still alive. Samuel was of course still alive, but since he lacked both the nasal width and the minimum age to be a Thunder Boy, plus he had no one to pair with, he was staying there for protection from homophobes but was not one who could be in the field, although he was also doing what he could to help from within The Fortress of Thunder, since the more semen flew inside it, the stronger those outside it became. John and Mark had also said that this Law of The Thunder Bolt dictated that the leader of The Thunder Boys be known simply as The Boy. Matthew had at first been reluctant to accept this calling, but when he could see that ALL of his fellow Thunder Boys embraced it and seemed quite set upon it, he at last did the same, albeit still with some trepidation and reluctance. "Matt," said Luke, seeming to read his thoughts, as he so often had since long before they became the second pair of Thunder Boys as the storm had grown. "I know this is not all as you or we had planned, even once we became Thunder Boys, but this is your destiny, and I at least certainly believe in you." Matt nodded. "Thank you, Luke. And you are correct, whether I like it or not, this is clearly the role that I was always meant to play." He hesitated a long time then, hating what he knew he must say next, but knowing that it must be said nevertheless. Finally he took a very deep breath. "That being said, at least while we are among our fellows, you had better start simply calling me The Boy, although if we are ever alone together again, I would certainly then still prefer Matt." Luke nodded. "You're right, The Boy. So, The Boy, all eyes are on us, mostly you. So. . ." The Boy nodded. "Yes, and the time is near, but all of our army is not yet quite in place, so it is not quite time." Samuel, semen flying from his penis in all directions as he alternately squeezed its tube and its tip, piped in. "You are the only one who will know, The Boy, so we'll await your signal." "Yes," interjected John. "Only the Trunk of The Boy can smell when all is ready. I apologize, I know both Mark and I have already said that at least a dozen times each, The Boy." "You just want to say 'The Boy' as many times as you can," laughed The Boy, his nostrils briefly almost reaching the far corners of both side walls. John blushed. "There could be some truth to that, The Boy." His face went even more scarlet. "All right, a lot of truth." The Thunder rolled and roared inside and outside the chamber and the rest of the fortress as the ejaculations from every penis intensified and increased to the size of small asteroids and the speed of shooting stars. Suddenly, Samuel cried out in shock and pain, and all could see and feel why at once. What had just shot from his penis was not semen of any shape or size. It was a bolt of lightning. The same had shot from The Boy's penis into Luke's now smallish trunk and up his right and then left nostril, and he was certain from the gasps and cries that had followed Samuel's almost instantly that everyone else had experienced the same. The Boy smiled so broadly that the nostrils of his trunk folded all the way along the side walls, across the back wall and met, touching each other, in the middle of it. "I guess we shall all know after all," said The Boy. "Let The Great Assault begin." He felt The Fortress of Thunder starting to move beneath him, and gave a mighty trumpet from his trunk and roar from his mouth, hearing his comrades snort with their snouts or at least exceptionally large noses and roar with their mouths. Suddenly, though, his trumpeting and their snorting and all of their roaring became mighty claps and tremendous rolls of Thunder. "Soon cleared shall be, all Republican Isles," Luke suddenly began to chant, as if in a trance. "When all can see, that at last The Boy smiles." "Yes," said The Boy, smiling even more broadly, causing the tips of nostrils to cross, as Semen Lightning Bolts exploded not only in their chamber, but throughout The Fortress of Thunder, from The actual Thunder Boys and even from the walls. "And soon they must all face the full strength of all of us, all of The. . ."

THUNDER BOYS ARE LOOSE

Matt roared as Luke shot even larger canon balls of semen up his trunk and Luke did the same as Matt shot semen up each of his large nostrils. Thomas and Peter were similarly occupied, as were the still living Joshua and Abraham. Sampson sat masturbating near by. Suddenly, a roar like never before escaped all seven at once, and the Thunder Clap that then issued from The Fortress of Thunder echoed around the entire planet. * * * John and Mark heard the clap of Thunder, along with all of their team. "That's the semi final signal," said John. Mark and the rest of their group nodded. "We know what to do now ten," said Mark. They all called down their Thunder Bolts and rode them towards their next to last stop. * * * The security that year at the Canons For The Common Man show was the tightest that it had e ever been. "Well, with these vigalanties that seem to somehow be able to control even the weather out there, it has to be," said The President of The I'll Blow Your Brains Out If You Cross Me" club. His fellow gun nuts nodded. "Our first speaker," announced the MC, Nuton Case. "Will be from the paramilitary group Bombs Are For Everyone. Welcome, Mr. Braidy." "Thank you, Nuton. But it is just Jimmy," said the man, taking the stage. "My fellow fire arm freedom lovers, our nation faces many problems, but if everyone could just have their own personal canons, they would al be solved. Therefore. . ..oh, no, not here, not now. I thought security. . ." Everyone knew at once what he was talking about, for claps of Thunder so loud they seemed to be inside the building had begun. Then, his mic went dead and all of the lights went out. "You fools," boomed a voice within a long clap of Thunder. "Did you really think mere rifle armed guards could stop us. Go ahead," the voice said as one person reached for the canon trigger near her. "You'll learn what many already have. Firearms can not harm us." In spite of the warning, however, in the nest moment, canons were firing and canon balls flying in all directions. Guards came in with machine guns blazing, and everyone not near a canon pulled out their personal firearms and began firing. The only screams, however, were from fellow gun nuts who got caught in the cross fire. Then, when everyone had shot themselves empty and were reloading, the lightning bolts came and with them The Thunder Boys became visible. "Kill them all, gun sissies and faggots, the lot of them," shouted someone from the crowd. "Bullets are no good, but knives and stones can. . ." suddenly, the man stopped and cried out as a Thunder Bolt hit him and he burst into flame. "Wrong move," said another. "He was our leader." Suddenly, knives and rocks were out and flying everywhere, although most The Thunder Boys destroyed with the Thunder Bolts thrown from their hands before they could do harm. The Thunder Boys fought back with their own weapons, and for awhile the battle was evenly matched. But, of course, the supply of knives and even rocks was not unlimited, while the Thunder Bolts were. Eventually, the advance began in earnest, pushing the gun nuts and homophobes until their backs were right up against the wall. "Let the word go forth from this day forward," shouted John. "The Thunder Boys are loose, and the gun nuts and homophobes will. . ." Suddenly, he stopped and screamed as a flying stone took Mark's head clean off. An instant later, the remains of both vanished in a clap of Thunder and lightning. That was the end of the battle for all of the gun nits there, though,for all of the remaining Thunder Boys exploded in such fits of rage that every bone and every stone in the place caught fire. "We are definitely ready now," said Job. All nodded. "Next stop, tomorrow's opening of The Republican National Convention!" they all shouted, then vanished in The Thunder Bolts they then called down as the building exploded and then collapsed in a pile of rubble. * * * "Welcome home," said Matthew as John and Mark appeared in the chamber within The Fortress of THunder. "Thank you," said John. "We always kind of knew this was where we would be for The Final Battle," said Mark. "Since we were the first and founding members of this order." All nodded as John and Mark began their love making, Matthew and Luke as well as Thomas and Peter went back to theirs, and Sampson went back to his masturbating. NEXT TIME, -WARRIORS OF THE STORM, THE CATACLYSM AT CONSERVATIVE CENTRAL-.

THE GREAT STORM NEARS

At The Fortress of Thunder, Matthew roared as Luke shot semen canon balls up both nostrils of his trunk, almost simultaneously, and he shot semen all around the room, occasionally hitting Luke's face, but of course when it missed Luke's face, it all dissolved before staining the walls. "THe time draws near, Luke" said Matt, and Luke nodded. "Indeed it does, Matt. Let The Thunder Roll as the next fight begins." Both roared as they continued to shoot semen at, into and around each other, and The Thunder Clap that started in their room but emanated from there to the outside walls and then exploded from THe Fortress Of Thunder was louder than any other that there had yet been. * * * The mood was tense that year at The Texas Republican State Convention. "Do not push this item forward," pleaded dozens of gay members and their supporters. "We can not help being who and what God made us to be. Besides, you know the rumors. . ." "Rumors, nothing more," said Patricia Daniels. "And HOW DARE you suggest that God would make something as corrupt and vile as you. Now, if you are finished with your whining, I will call the roll on this matter, and we shall see." "The Trenton county delegation votes aye," their representative said. "THe Travis county delegation votes nay. . ." And so it went, as predicted. The delegations from districts which typically trended blue went nay, and the delegations from districts which trended red, which was the majority, went aye. "The motion is adopted," proclaimed Daniels. "The Official Texas Republican Party Platform endorses the use of Corrective, Conversion Therapy, including, but not limited to, shock therapy, food and even water deprivation, and even torture, to convert or, to use a better and more accurate term, correct queers and fags, crookeds in short, into straights, which is, by the way, what God created and intended everyone to be. Your choices must be corrected, or punished. Those that refuse to change will be shot." Even some that had voted for the measure gasped in surprise at this, but the majority did not. "Now, with other business. . ." "Wait just a minute here," said someone from the group of gays. "Even if you're going to refuse to see reason about the just being gay matter, murder is murder, PERIOD." "Maybe so," shouted Ferdinand Philipie. "But you are the ones who are devoted to murdering your own souls, not to mention the innocence of young, impressionable teenagers, particularly teenage boys. . ." That was more than one of these could take. "I'm a teenage boy, you stupid, backwards. . ." he struggled for words to express his impression, then gave up and went on. "No one influenced me into being gay, I just happen to be turned on by other teenage boys and not by teenage girls. No one influenced my penis into having erections with other boys and not with girls, it just does. . ." "Enough," said Patricia Daniels, turning off all microphones but her own. "The motion has been adopted. Accept it and be quiet, or leave." They all sat down, for while this action had turned their blood into fire, they did not want to miss any other horrible thing that was about to happen. "The next item on the agenda is to allow convicted felons, including those convicted of very violent crime, even murder, if they are legitimately released from prison, to carry firearms. Accompanying this, if anyone shoots a fag with such weapons, even fatally, there shall be no punishment at all, not even an arrest." She cast a warning glance at those who started to stand and open their mouths at this, and they sat back down and closed their mouths. "Any discussion, other than from tHe Peanut Gallery, I mean." She waited a few minutes, then went on. "Hearing none, I now call the roll. . ." Predictably, this motion carried along the same lines as the other. "The motion is adopt.. ." Just then, her mic went dead, and all the lights in the hall went out. Then came a clap of Thunder and a voice rode in on the Thunder. "You were warned." Then, Thunder erupted all around the hall, accompanied by "Boys" riding in on bolts of lightning. "I think we can just start with the show, right off the bat, don't you, Thomas?" said one of The Thunder Boys to his partner. "I think so, Philip," Thomas nodded. "They have already had fair warning, including this morning." Then he shouted. "OK, Boys, Storm Protocol Two, Right now." Before anyone there could do anything further than lay their hand on their holster,all of the Boys raised their hands and brought them down with a great thrust, and claps of Thunder hit every section of the hall, and after each clap of Thunder, the people in that section gasped as their firearms dissolved before their eyes. Nor was it limited to firearms. All weapons, even the pebble someone had picked up intending to throw at Thomas and Philip, did the same. "Any further. . . discussion?" said a different Thunder Boy. He looked around, his slightly wider than his face nostrils inhaling sharply, as if to sniff out any further trouble. "Hearing none, both of these motions are abolished, and I would strongly recommend against taking either of them up again. Any gay couples here who want to get on the right side of history and join our fight, we'll be outside for a few minutes. Otherwise, we'll see some of you in August, although I would suggest you not pursue these items there either, and encourage others to follow suit. Next stop, The Republican National Convention." They started to summon the THe Thunder, when one of the convention attenders called out, "You're not going to kill any of us?" "No," said Thomas. "You are more useful to our causes as witnesses to what just happened, and dead people do not make very good witnesses. But remember what happened here today. At the National Convention, if you are still endorsing these policies, we might not be in such a forgiving mood." Then, they all brought their hands down, there were claps of Thunder everywhere, and they were gone. A few moments later, so were the majority of the gay people who had been in the gallery. ** * * At The Fortress of Thunder, Matt and Luke roared as canon balls of semen erupted from both of their penises in all directions, including up Matt's trunk and Luke's enormous snout, but all over the rest of each other and everywhere else in the room as well. From the other room, they heard their younger friends, who had not been able to be cured of their wounds at the Fortress before succumbing to them and so now shared this place and this job with them, occupied in a similar manner. "I'm sorry they couldn't be saved," said Matt. "But two THUNDER GENERATORS does make those who are still alive even stronger." Luke nodded, but his only verbal communication, besides his continued roaring, was a single word. "SOON!" * * * WARRIORS OF THE STORM, THE CATACLYSM AT CONSERVATIVE CENTRAL, is not far off.