It’s A Wonderful Death
Marjorie Taylor Green shows Darryl The Future The Liberals Want
It had been a good day. Darryl had attended a liberal protest against anti-vaxxing — fucking libtards! Darryl was a big guy wearing a black t-shirt with an American flag cross and the slogan “Stand For The Flag Kneel For The Cross”. Nobody fucked with him. Especially not these limp-wristed crybabies. He scared the crap out of a couple of lady protestors, yelling in their faces “YOU STUPID BITCHES! GET THE HELL BACK WHERE YOU CAME FROM!” Why did they have to do this stuff? Their boyfriends talked them into it, pussies. Then he’d seen a reporter filming it all. When Darryl got closer he saw the reporter was from the liberal media — CNN!
Darryl decked the guy with one punch and smashed his equipment. Yes, a very good day. He has a rock hard boner thinking about smashing that equipment. He cracks open a beer and settles down to watch some porn and jerk off.
But in bed that night, he wonders. Is Covid really a hoax? No worse than the flu? Maybe the death total is real. Maybe a free vaccine can’t hurt. What if Tucker Carlson is wrong? With these traitorous thoughts spinning in his head, it takes a while for Darryl to fall asleep.
But the next day, everything changes.
Darryl and his fellow Q Anons are hanging a TRUMP 2020 flag across Danver’s Bridge. But then Darryl’s foot slips and he plunges into the river! He’s swept up in the current and practically flying downstream! “Is this the end?” he thinks. “Should I have gotten my tractor repaired?”
Just then, a hand shoots out of nowhere and pulls Darryl onto the riverbank. Darryl coughs and splutters before taking a look at his rescuer.
The woman is blonde, in a red white and blue short sleeveless dress. Pretty. Looks like Marjorie Taylor Green!
“Marjorie?” he gasps. “Is that you?” He shakes the water out of his hair.
The woman gives him a sprightly smile and says, “yes, Darryl, it’s me!”
“Have I died and gone to Heaven? Marjorie Taylor Greene rescued me!”
“No, Darryl, you’re still here on Earth. We heard your thoughts last night and we decided to do something about it.”
Darryl feels a thrill of fear. “You’re not gonna hurt me or anything?”
Marjorie laughs, helping him up. “No, Patriot! You were about to lose your way. I’m going to show you The Truth.”
She waves her hand, and suddenly he is back in Tucker Plains. But — but the sign is wrong!
It read SNOWFLAKE PLAINS
Darryl grins. “Okay, Miss Taylor-Greene, let’s go and kick some snowflake ASS!”
“No, no, Darryl, that’s not why we’re here. I’m going to show you The Future That Liberals Want,” she intoned. “Come with me.”
The first thing he sees is — Mexicans! Hundreds of Mexicans! All of them illegal! The diner is a taco restaurant! May’s Clothing Store is now Muchaccha Rags! Women are parading around in brightly colored skirts and bikini tops, handing the men drugs!
“Where — where?” Darryl said.
“When we lost Congress, the Dems — we like to call them Dem-mons — opened the floodgates and let these people in. Look over there, Darryl, where the elementary school was.”
He turns his head, dreading what he’s going to see. The elementary school — where he and his friends and neighbors went to school learning about the Confederacy — is GONE! There is only a smoking ruin. And sitting around it are Black people! Happy, laughing Black people! One of them is holding a flamethrower, and he’s laughing harder than anyone! The Black people dance over the ashes!
“I’m gonna kill him!” Darryl exclaims, and storms toward them. Then, suddenly, he’s back next to Marjorie Taylor Greene. “Hey!”
“Darryl, we can’t interfere,” she says. “As much as I want you to kick a few Black asses, we can’t. Biden defunded the police and they took over.”
“Fuck, man,” says Darryl and catches himself. “Excuse my French, Miss Greene.”
“Please, Matt Gaetz says way worse. And he keeps hitting on Jaime Herrera Beutler’s daughter. Follow me.”
They walk across the town square to where a bunch of strangely dressed white men and women are playing flutes and zithers. Snowflakes! He can tell at least one man is dressed like a woman — what do they call them? Transistors? One male Snowflake in sunglasses and a lace t-shirt whips his head around.
“People! It’s One Of Them!” he yells. Instantly they are all armed with poke bowls and bottles of Grey Goose.
Darryl can’t resist a cry of fright. “Babs!” he calls to his wife. “Babs, you’re a Snowflake?” His wife Babs is dressed in a sharply cut blue suit, her hair in a Hillary Clinton bob.
“I’m a Democrat now, Darryl,” she says. “I’m an MSNBC contributor.”
“NOOOOOO!” Darryl bellows, putting his hands on the top of his head in disbelief.
“Get the Deplorable!” Lace shirt yells.
“STOP!” orders Marjorie Taylor-Greene. “PUT DOWN YOUR WEAPONS OR YOUR UNEMPLOYMENT BENEFITS WILL STOP!”
The poke bowls and bottles drop to the ground. Muttering, the Snowflakes turn away. “We should tweet to the Liberal Elite Media!” one girl mutters.
“Don’t you dare,” Marjorie says in a voice that has a deep echo of righteous anger. “Unless you stop right now, your family and your teachers who teach critical race theory want to be doxxed.”
She turns to Darryl with a triumphant smile. “That’s the way to handle these Snowflakes, Darryl. But I don’t think that Antifa vaxx Gestapo is coming back to your town any time soon. You and your fellow patriots put a few of them in the hospital. Follow me, we’re almost at our last stop.”
The sky turns grey and the wind begins howling. Darryl shivers. “Is this gonna be bad, Miss Taylor-Greene.”
“You’ll see.”
They walk down a dirt path to a graveyard. Darryl pulls back, but Marjorie lays a reassuring hand on his shoulder. They walk through the gate to the graveyard.
“This section” she gestures to her right, “Are Antifa who died when they looted and burned our cities.” She waves her hand over a small section over on the left. “These are the un-Americans who resisted us when we stormed the Capitol.”
“Is Ashley Babbit here?”
“No, silly, she’s in Righteous White Heaven!” Her voice turns serious. “And this — “ she points to a vast number of gravestones — “these are the people killed by the vaccine. Look at that tombstone, Darryl.”
Trembling, Darryl leans forward and reads:
DARRYL THOMPSON
Betrayer, Unbeliever, Snowflake
1974–2021
Darryl’s heart gives a loud thump. He can’t catch his breath. When he can speak, he whispers, “That can’t be. That can’t be, Miss Greene! I haven’t betrayed anybody! Yesterday I punched out a reporter! I will NEVER take that shot!”
Marjorie steps forward and takes his hands in hers. “Darryl, that makes me so happy. Go back now and remember this.”
Suddenly she vanishes. The graveyard vanishes.
Darryl is in the town square. TUCKER PLAINS reads the sign! Bob’s Diner is back! May’s Clothing Store is back! Wayne’s Guns and Bait is back! EVERYBODY IS WHITE!
“YEE-HAW!” Darryl bellows. “HELLO TUCKER PLAINS! HELLO BOB’S DINER! HELLO MAY’S CLOTHING STORE! HELLO WAYNE’S GUNS AND BAIT! HELLO! I’M NOT TAKING THE VACCINE!”
Tuckered out, Darryl makes his way home. He has a bad cough and a headache but that’s probably from being in the river. Funny thing, as he passes Gert’s Fine Flowers the flowers don’t have any smell.
She most have imported them from the city.
