Seems like we might have lost a few million people to the needle. My pfaith is rocked.

Fack it all, I do not care. I am not mad, you are. Fack you. GG ez game ez game. Oh mein gawd Troomp was hacking, you guys, you HAFF to believe me. He had Thomas Crooks use ze AWP und ze aimbot in cs_pennsylvania and purposefully miss his head by a centimetre und nick his ear. He activated ze no_clip und wall hacks too, you guys. I haff never seen such l33t sexy hax in mein life. Mein minions did not stand a chance, it was not fair fight, I demand rematch. 1v1 me, Troomp!

You think zis is the end? Nein! Zis is just ze beginning! Ze pods haff already been made und allocated; what can I do? Zer is no turning back now. Ze plans haff been set in motion. Zer vill haff to be anuzza "COVID" (lel!!) pandemic, only zis time it vill be even deadlier und all of ze human beans vill cry out for lockdowns, masks und jubs. I haff to act quickly though, as mein human bean suit does not haff long left und soon I vill be in Heaven, enacting mein Great Reset up zer as well. Do not let mein dream die, you guys. Halp me! I am too weak, Anakin. Is it really so much to ask zat you all live in pods, eat boog burgers, und own nuzzin?? Oh mein gawd just give up already!

Fuck it, you know the drill, we open in Maine. Got it, MAGAt scum? Can y'all even read? Whatever. Where's my fucking whiskey?! RIGHT. Recovering Alcoholic writer Stefan Queen watched in abject horror as the election results came pouring in. The razor-thin race they'd been promised turned out to be more of a Momala mudslide, as convicted felon Donald Judas Trump stole the election right before their very eyes. GOD I HATE HIM I HATE HIM I FUCKING HATE HIM

Stefan bravely took to TWITTER (FUCK YOU, ELON!) and calmly typed out a tweet: NASTY ORANGE CUNTFACE FELON TRUMP IS DIVIDING OUR SHITTY COUNTRY AND YOU STUPID FUCKING GARBAGE MUNCHERS VOTED HIM IN AGAIN. I AM LITERALLY KILLING MYSELF RIGHT NOW. FUCK. He smashed send and launched his phone across the room. Stefan curled up into the foetal position and began hyperventilating into his N95, almost passing out in the process. He suddenly sprang to his feet and scurried over towards his phone. It was vibrating like crazy. Billions upon billions of bots good old regular American Joes who love Stephen King novels and hate convicted felons like Trump were liking his amazing tweet.

Stefan scrolled down his TWITTER FEED. There had been a major vibe shift. The MAGA jubilation was short lived. President-elect Fuckface had started another pandemic in the few short seconds it took for him to waddle his fat orange ass offstage after his pre-emptive victory speech. No one quite knew how it started, but it was spreading like wildfire. Literally all of the MAGAts in attendance were dead or dying. It looked like the aftermath of Jonestown. The virus had breached MAGA HQ and was spreading rapidly throughout the USA. The media were calling it COVID-24.

Stefan grabbed the go-bag he'd packed after the second assassination attempt fucking failed, and hoofed it down to his car. The Tesla refused to start. Elon's laughing face filled the dashboard screen. He was wagging his finger back and forth. "Uh uh uh, you didn't say the magic word." Stefan exploded in rage, hitting the steering wheel with his tiny gloved fists. "I'M NOT FUCKING SAYING IT, ELON. IT'S 'TWITTER'! 'TWITTER', DO YOU HEAR ME?! FUCK!"

Stefan bailed from the vehicle. A horde of coughing MAGAts crested over the horizon and began hurtling towards Stefan. The leader of the pack was dressed in a squirrel costume, and was bounding down the hill on all fours. His exposed nuts were flapping in the wind behind him. A crude message was smeared on his outfit in blood: KILL 'EM 4 P'NUT! Stefan gasped in horror and dove back into the traitorous Tesla, locking the doors behind him. The Qrowd surrounded his car, and began jostling it back and forth.

"WE GOT Y'ALL CORNERED NOW, WRITER BOY. WORDS AREN'T GONNA SAVE Y'ALL FROM MUH BOOMSTICK. AIN'T THAT RIGHT, BUBBA?" one of the toothless yokels cackled, firing his blunderbuss into the air and coughing onto the windshield. "Heh, that's where you're wrong, chud." Stefan whispered to himself, as his eyes narrowed and a small anime smirk curled underneath his N95. He unholstered his phone and tapped out a message on TWITTER: Donald Trump is hella weird. The tweet sent shockwaves through the Qrowd, and one by one the Qultists dissolved and melted away, absolutely decimated by Stefan's powerful words.

It was election day in Maine. Recovering alcoholic writer Stefan Queen was travelling by car to his local polling station. He was driving at 80mph in a 40 zone. Democracy was on the line. Stefan's vote would decide the entire election, and subsequently the continued survival of the human race. He hadn't been able to sleep a wink all night thinking about Trump, and the cocaine-laced coffee he'd had that morning had his heart jackhammering harder than a gang-bang in a sewer.

Stefan took his eyes off the road and his hands off the wheel for just a second to compose a tweet. Donald Trump is dangerou bgkjbfjksbdz. He didn't have time to finish the tweet, let alone send it to his millions of followers, as his car veered off the road and into a crowd of people. Stefan screamed into his N95 as Mrs. O'Leary, a local religious zealot and ride or die MAGAt, grabbed hold of his bonnet and clawed at the windshield. Stefan bravely activated the windshield wipers. Mrs. O'Leary slipped out of sight and under the wheels of his car, as Stefan let out a heroic "heh" and tried to regain control of his vehicle.

The demonic Tesla had a mind of it's own however, and was no doubt being controlled remotely by Elon Musk. Stefan had never seen such blatant election interference in his life. Stefan braced himself as his traitorous transport travelled straight towards a chestnut tree. The car slammed directly into it, launching Stefan straight through the windshield. In his rush to vote against Trump, Stefan had neglected to wear his seatbelt. Thankfully his N95 cushioned his fall, and only about half of his face was scraped off as a result. Stefan tried to move and felt his body roar out in pain. Some bones were definitely broken. He hadn't been in this much agony since his last booster jab.

As Stefan clawed his crippled body towards the crumpled chassis of his car, a red eyed rodent watched rapaciously from above. It was frothing at the mouth, and had a tiny MAGA hat on its head. Stefan had disturbed the beast from its slumber, and it wanted revenge. The squirrel stalked Stefan as he finally reached the wreckage, his howls of pain muffled by the N95 on his lacerated face. His trembling hand reached inside the clump of twisted metal and retrieved his miraculously unscathed phone. Stefan opened TWITTER. It hurt to type but the urge to tweet overrode his discomfort. Former President and convicted felon Donald J. Trump literally just crashed my car. He hit send, and billions of bots red hot blooded good old American Joes who love democracy and hate fascism liked his tweet.

As though incensed by Stefan's truthful tweet, the squirrel leapt from a branch above and divebombed straight towards Stefan, coughing out COVID spores as it flew through the air. The squirrel landed in his lap and began digging at Stefan's crotch. Thankfully Stefan had had his cock and balls removed years ago. He knew that would pay off eventually. Repulsed by the rancid, rotting smell emanating from Stefan's nether regions, the squirrel turned around and slashed out at Stefan's face. That's when future female President MOMALA "I AIN'T GOT TIME TO BREED" HARRIS descended from the Heavens with a tranquiliser gun and a bag of Doritos!!

"Don't." she warned the squirrel, wagging her finger in its face. Consumed by fear, the squirrel bolted away for the nearest tree. Momala coolly aimed up her shot and fired. The tranquiliser dart ripped straight through the squirrel's cranium. Momala cackled in victory as the squirrel slumped over. Its reign of terror was at an end. "Thank you Madam Vice President!" Stefan squealed before collapsing into tears. He got out his phone once again and tweeted: I'm a hardcore MAGAt but even I'm going to vote for Kamala today. Our Democracy is at stake folx!

After enthusiastically and steadfastly supporting the LGBTQ community for 40+ years, having countless people I considered lifelong friends, (not to mentions actual blood relatives) I was a little shocked when they (99.9%) had zero problem discarding me when I refused the shot. Remember the early dark days of the AIDS crisis? When we didn’t know how the disease spread and many people treated gay men like lepers? I was there hugging them, kissing them, eating off their fork and drinking out of their glass. I stood by my friends and family when the world turned on them. What did I get from them when I said no to the shot? An invitation to leave town (and I did in fact sell my house and move). I was no longer allowed in my favorite (heavily gay) restaurants, bars and clubs. And now I’m supposed to be concerned about their “rights” when I vote? Not likely.

I can't believe I almost forgot about this insanity.