HOMSEXUAL DEATH SQUAD
They were proud of themselves.
They had had finally done it.
The Gay Death Squad was now a reality…
Sitting around watching tv and eating chips to celebrate, the conversation turned to some details about their upcoming plans:
“Ha, ha, ha,” laughed Lenny who seemed to be a character out of Mice and Men. “We’re gonna do it, we’re really gonna do it, right boss-man?” His grin was accessorized with shiny spittle that hung to his chin. For him it was something that went together, like shoes and socks.
“Of course, big guy, sure. Now we just need to go and find ourselves some fags. Then the real fun’ll begin.”
“But George, how’re we gonna find ’em, huh? Where they hiding out, huh, huh, huh?” He wiped the dribble with his sleeve, then began picking at his runny nose.
“Will you stop doing that with your nose? It’s disgusting!”
“Sorry George, it’s just itching me.”
“Look now, I want you to pay close attention Lenny, this hunting out homosexuals ain’t no game. They can be really dangerous. These people are smart; they’re using the legal system to get their perversion validified! That black monkey communist of a President is on their side. They’ve got him in their pocket…They’re even pervert’n the Constitution of the United States of America (though when he said it, it sounded more like N’tid Stats of ‘Merica)
“But George, what is a homiesexual anyway? How d’ you know someone be like that?” Lenny’s expresion was like a young child.
“HOMO-sexual Lenny, there are many signs that you got to watch out for! That’s for sure, but some of the signs, yea now let me think a minute…” George began looking off somewhere in the distance while he scratched inadvertantly his left cheek. He took a sip of his beer and said,
“One thing is they usually are nicely dressed, with clean fancy clothes….and their hair well styled. They put lots of gel in it, used to be hairspray, but not any more. And tight underwear too, showing off the family jewels!…Yep, those are some of the obvious signs. And too, they talk funny – gotta watch out for that. Some of ’em got real sissy voices, though some have learned how to talk proper like nowadays, and their wrists are kind of like this” He demonstrated a limp wrist, perced his lips and wiggled his eyes in a funny manner while looking at Lenny seductively.
“And when they go home, they dress up in wimmin’s clothes and fudge pack one another!”
“Oh my gawd George! Why do they do that, put on wimmin’s clothes?…and what’s ‘fudge pickin’?”
“Fudge packin’ dumb ass!…What do I know why they put on wimmin’s clothes? I guess they all wanna be women, they’re frustraidid….fudge packin’ means that they like to put their MAN THING into each others’ butts Lenny.
Into their butt holes! Do you understand?And for God’s sake if you ever take a public shower, DO NOT DROP THE SOAP!”
“Why not George? Sometimes I do drop the soap at the gym, you know how it gets all slippery and stuff when it get’s wet…how am I gonna get myself clean if’n I drop the soap, should I just rinse myself with water then George?”
“Oh for cry’n out loud Lenny! I guess if you’re alone, it’s okay, but just be careful! One of them gays will jump on you like a dog jumps on a bone!”
Lenny’s expression was one of terror, he stopped and stared at his smart companion, the one who had always taken care of him. George knew everything.
“You mean, if’n I drop the soap and a homiesexual is there and I wanna pick it up, don’t do that ‘cuz the homiesexual will jump on me like a dog with a bone? You mean, he’ll want to put his man thing in my butt?…Why would he do that George? Cuz I don’t think I’d like that very much. One time with my finger…”
“Shut up Lenny! I don’t want to hear about what happened between your finger and your own butt!” Pass the bowl of chips.
There was a dead silence in the living room as they pondered their conversation and their future plans of hunting homosexuals.
The air was stale, the couch smelled of mildew while Fox News coughed out its’ daily propaganda to the masses.
“George, aside from being all dressed up nice, how we gonna be sure someone be a homosexual?”
“There are tests, Lenny,” he said.
“Tests? You mean like a QUIZ? Cuz one time at school, before they threw me out, I had to…”
“Will you PLEASE shut up! No it’s not that kind of a test, not with paper or anything. It’s more like physical testing.”
“Like what, George? You mean like the time I run the 50 yard dash and fell?”
“No, not like that….ok, listen now there are lots of tests. The first one is called The Gag Reflex. A friend of mine told me about it….”
“What do you mean George? What’s gag mean?”
“Well you know when your gonna throw up? Just right before? Well it’s that unfortable feeling just before! HOMOsexuals don’t have that! They don’t mind throwing up – cain’t feel it. Nothing.”
“Wow George. They are very lucky then. ‘Cuz that’s why I don’t like throwing up! Well, the smell too because then you wanna throw up some more…”
George looked irritated, this conversation was not going so well. With Lenny, everything had to be explained.
“So, George, what are the other tests?”
Lenny scratched his chin some more, trying to remember what he really ‘knew’ about the subject.
“God says in the Bible that ‘thou shalt not lie with a man as with a woman’.
Lenny seemed perplexed.
“What does that mean George?”
“It means that God doesn’t want men to love men! Or women either, for that matter. God hates fags. It’s wrong, that’s all. You have to follow the holy scriptures dad burn it!” George’s face was all red.
Lenny looked even more perplexed.
“But George, I always thought God preached love. Why does God hate homiesexuals? Didn’t he make everything for a reason? I thought he loved everything and everyone he made…he made them homiesexuals, didn’t he George?”
There was silence in the stale room; Lenny munched on a chip and drank a sip of soda.
Lenny was thinking about the hunting idea. He imagined the rabbits in the fields, running after them with his gun. He loved hunting, though he had never killed anything before. He just loved seeing the rabbits run around and the dogs barking, being outside, the sun on his face. It was all great fun. He wasn’t so sure about homiesexuals anymore. He wasn’t so sure he wanted to hunt them, wasn’t even sure as to what they were.
But he knew a couple of things: that having no ‘gag reflex’ was a good thing and he remembered too that time with his finger (and he wouldn’t tell that to nobody!) ….actually felt pretty good. Maybe he would like to meet one of these people before hunting them. He wasn’t so sure anymore.