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.