Clockwork Agent Orange

The theater room at the White House was quite impressive. During his time as President, Trump spared no expense to renovate the equipment and decor. President Trump hired a team from IMAX to design the room. The entire wall was a screen with the latest in sound and digital projection. When not in use, the wall displayed scenery from some of the most beautiful places on Earth, Trump Casinos and resorts as well as extremely high definition images of Trump’s wife in bikinis, that no one could figure out how to remove in the settings menu. The entire room, when not in theater mode, was full of arcade style games and pool tables; all of which were on the other side of the room and completely isolated with a hydraulic sound wall during movies with the touch of a button. All of this was “trumped,” for lack of a better word, by the full-sized kitchen in the adjoining room, where Guy Fieri was on hand twenty-four hours a day, to produce wings whenever they were requested. Trump paid him a billion dollars and thirty-five cents to be on hand at all times, for a total of forty years without fail, with an option to renew his contract in 2057. This was definitely where you wanted to be during the alien apocalypse.

Positioned around the room, were almost a dozen Secret Service Agents, most of whom resembled one another like carbon copies of Agent Smith from The Matrix. Two agents stood out, the lone female member of the team, Anna Naranja, who the other agents referred to as, Agent Orange and the dashingly handsome, Langhorne Atherholt; the highest ranking agent at the White House. Langhorne Atherholt, was a very big name for such a small man. In fact, Langhorne and Agent Orange were the shortest people in the room. A trait that probably helped mold them into the biggest bad asses in the Secret Service. Secretly, the two were dating; a fact well hidden from their coworkers, and easily missed by Tad, who was busy hitting on Anna as hard as he could. There were three windows in the room, all facing the north street in front of the White House and all three had Secret Servicemen in them, even though snipers were on the roof. You can never be too careful, after all.

Agent Orange was the lookout in the middle window; so naturally, Tad was sitting with his back against the pane, obstructing her view. He was going through his sure fire pick up lines in his head.

Gurl, did you get those pants on sale, cuz at my house they would be a 100% off. Gurl, was your daddy a baker, cuz you got some nice buns… Tad was busy firing through everything in his arsenal and didn’t notice her occasional glances over to the far right window, where Agent Atherholt was standing. Knowing her intimately, her look was all she needed to give him; he knew exactly what she was saying.

 Can I please drop kick this asshat through the window?

Langhorne simply smiled ever so slightly, to signify he knew where her head was, but never gave her the go ahead.

He’s enjoying this, she thought.

“Do you think Guy Fieri can make us some chicken wings? I’m hungry, hey,” Lorenzo said.

“Don’t be silly Guy Fieri isn’t here now,” Tom the waiter said.

“No, actually he is here; he’s in the kitchen right now,” Anna said.

“Wow, you can get Guy Fieri to cook chicken wings for you during an alien apocalypse? I want to be President of the United States,” Tad said before returning his gaze of love back to Anna.

“You can’t be President; you’re not smart enough,” his brother Geoff said.

“What does being smart have to do with being President?”

“That’s definitely not a prerequisite in this day and age, and I mean no disrespect to the current President,” Tom the waiter said.

Tom, whose real first name isn’t Tom and whose last name isn’t Waiter, didn’t want to mention he had not voted for him in the last election. After all, he was being allowed in the White House, protected by Secret Service Agents and about to be served chicken wings by Guy Fieri, all while an alien apocalypse was happening; to complain would seem ungrateful.

“I’ll go alert Guy to cook up a big batch of chicken wings,” Agent Atherholt said and headed towards the kitchen, leaving Anna alone with the pathetic, horny twenty-something.

 

***

Not far from the White House, Katie and Rose were busy polishing off a few bottles of chardonnay from the wine cellar/sex dungeon. It was a far cry from watching an IMAX movie and eating chicken wings made by Guy Fieri, but considering it was the end of the world; they didn’t have it too bad off.

Katie looked at the gimp suit. “Do you think we can take it with us?”

“No, it won’t fit in our back packs and it certainly isn’t practical. What are we going to do with a gimp suit during the apocalypse?”

“I know; I guess I was just being optimistic and thinking it would be hilarious to take a pic of it, and post it on Instagram when all this is over. We might not even get out of this alive though.”

“Hey, you can’t think like that. We’ve come this far and I think that says a lot, considering we were unarmed. Now that we have weapons, are odds are much better.”

“We should probably get going before we get too drunk. I’ve got a nice buzz, but I need to be lucid enough to shoot aliens,” Katie said.

Katie picked up her back pack, along with her shot gun and Rose did the same only she had a Kalashnikov.

“This is the same weapon that First Husband, Mick Cage-Bacon used in Sex and the City and Death,” Rose said

“It’s a shame we might not get to see his new film, Sex and the City and Death III: More Death and Sex.” Katie said.

“Don’t worry Katie. We have weapons now and from here on out, it’s all kittens and dildos.”

Katie and Rose climbed back out of the cellar/sex dungeon and into the bar room of the Blue Oyster Bar where, “El Bimbo” was still playing.

Rose cracked the door and peeked out. She didn’t see anyone on the streets.

“The coast is clear; let’s roll. It’s only about half a mile to the White House from here. ”

They made their way down several blocks unchallenged.

“It’s eerily quiet. Where are all the aliens?” Katie asked.

“Maybe they’ve already came through this way and passed on. They probably–” Rose stopped in front of a Chipotle. “Omg, Katie you have to see this.”

Rose looked in the Chipotle window, and on the floor were dozens and dozens of aliens laying motionless.

“Are they dead?” Rose asked.

“It appears that way.”

“Maybe we should go in and investigate. Something or someone has killed them all, and we should find out what it is. These aliens may have a weakness, and if we can discover it; we might just be able to survive this thing.”

“I don’t know; what if whatever or whoever killed them, is still in there and decides to kill us?” Katie asked.

“I think it’s worth the risk, besides; we have weapons now remember?”

Katie and Rose cautiously stepped inside the Chipotle with their guns drawn. As soon as they were both inside, a pungent stench assaulted their nostrils.

Katie bent over and almost hurled. Rose pulled up her shirt over her nose.

“It smells like the toilets have overflowed,” Katie said.

Rose opened one of the bathrooms and there was a pool of toilet water on the floor.

“That’s exactly what it is,” Rose confirmed.

“You don’t think…no it couldn’t be.”

“What?” Rose asked.

“You don’t think that’s what killed the aliens do you?”

“How is that possible?”

“Well, I noticed on the way in, that none of the aliens were shot,” Katie said.

“So, your theory is that the aliens died, because someone took a massive dump in a Chipotle, which caused the toilet to overflow and the stench poisoned them?” Rose asked.

“Well, it is a Chipotle after all.”

“That seems a bit of a stretch, besides; how do we test out your theory?”

“We take some feces with us,” Katie said.

“You want to take some Chipotle food with us?” Rose asked.

“No, I mean we collect some feces out of the bathroom and put it into a to-go box.”

Rose was going to object, but Katie grabbed a to-go box and headed into the rest room.

She bent down and scooped up some poop with the box to avoid touching it with her hands.

“OMG, Katie, are we seriously going to take feces with us to the White House?”

“Well, it won’t be the first time there has been feces in the White House.”

“True.”

“Besides, if our theory is correct, this crap box might turn into a pretty nice grenade, should we run into a large group of aliens,” Katie said as she hands Rose her very own fresh box of funk.

“I guess it’s worth a try, but I doubt we’d run into a large group of aliens. We haven’t seen any since we left the dungeon” Rose said.

As soon as the words left her mouth, Rose and Katie casually walked out of the door of the Chipotle, with their boxes of fresh poo. They could see directly in front of them, across the street, were at least thirty aliens if not more. The aliens were all huddled together, peeking into a D.C Wieners restaurant window; trying to decipher what the tubes of cased meat were made up of. They would be there all day wondering, like the rest of the world, if not for the amazingly loud slam of the Chipotle door closing behind Katie and Rose.

All thirty or so aliens whipped their heads around and focused on the two girls. Rose and Katie looked at each other with their mouths opened wide in disbelief, then back to the Inkaku, just long enough to shatter their eardrums with their screams. The aliens roared back and started across the street. Katie and Rose almost became horizontal as they dashed down the road.

In what seemed like an eternity, even though it had only been a few minutes, they were at the White House, but they didn’t stop. In fact, they didn’t know what the White House looked like from the North face. With no Secret Service Agents or no one else about, it looked like any other entrance. They ran right by the front door and were none the wiser. They didn’t even notice that the aliens weren’t following them anymore.

Rose instinctively tossed her box high into the air as they fled. The box landed nearly in the middle of the trailing aliens, and as it impacted the ground; the splash from it took out most of them instantly. They melted a lot like Stripe in that scene from Gremlins. Out of the entire group, only three remained unscathed. The Inkaku jumped back just in the nick of time and as the girls ran away. One of them aimed a device from his arm at Katie and tagged her with a dot of red light. A silver orb shot up from his backpack and away it went; flying off after them. The three surviving aliens looked at one another and nodded. The orb would find them and they would have their revenge.

 

***

Turning his attention back to the street, Langhorne focused his gaze upon a couple of girls running by. A pretty redhead and what looked like the human inspiration for the Furby. The redhead was obviously fit and able to run faster and yet was holding back, so her plump pal could keep up. Her friend, on the other hand, was definitely reaching her top speed and resembled a person in flippers, running towards the ocean.

Anna and the other agent by a different window, also spotted them and watched in amusement. Tad was too busy flirting to be distracted by anything at the moment.

Melvin was still busy categorizing his dick pics on his phone and had not been listening to any of the exchanges. Everyone had their cell phones charging, thanks again to the excess of former President Trump, who had a stash of phone chargers for just about any phone out on the market. Melvin was the only one who didn’t need one, because he brought his with him wherever he went. He wasn’t going to let the end of the world, stop him from his immature pranks.

Geoff was busy tweeting. Can’t believe my brother can’t even score during the end of the world. #epicfailintheapocalypse

Lorenzo, who recently divorced, is on every dating website in existence. He checked his FarmersOnly.com account. He knew a lot about food, but nothing about farming. He was not above bullshitting though, if it meant getting a date.

In what seemed like no time at all, Guy appeared from the kitchen, pushing a cart filled with trays of buffalo wings. He was characteristically wearing his shades and enough hair gel, that he would never have to run a comb through it ever again. There were barbecue wings, mild wings, hot wings, mango habanero wings, and every other wing that you could conceive; along with an array of dipping sauces.

There was complete silence in the room, as everybody went to town on the wings. Lorenzo was in heaven. Tad had to use about twenty napkins, because he was eating the barbecue wings.

Outside the world was falling apart, except for Detroit, and people were turning into fleshy Danny DeVito’s right and left. There were people who were scavenging for food and water and fighting for their lives, while Tad, Geoff, Tom the waiter, Anna, Agent Atherholt, Lorenzo and Melvin ate chicken wings made by Guy Fieri.

There was only one thing that could make this moment even more perfect. “Can we watch Sex and the City and Death on the IMAX screen?” Geoff asked.

 

The Food Heavy Chapter

    As the entire world fights back swarms of fart zombies and labia-faced alien Danny DeVitos, the tunnel to the White House was a boring yet welcome place. Kitty and Yukon were noticeably upset, that the peacefulness was about to come to an end. Mick and Eastwood, both men of action, were itching for a fight and eager to exit the quiet of the below ground tubular walkway. Tad and his brother were bothered more by the lack of signal, than anything else. The lack of signal was no deterrent for Melvin, who was flipping through his phone, admiring his stockpile of dick pics he had on hand, for whenever the need for a good dick pic arose. As for Tom the waiter, he worried about everything, including how Lorenzo could eat at a time like this, and even more than that; where did he find that foot long Italian sub sandwich?

Thinking back, Tom the waiter was hard pressed to recall a time when he saw Lorenzo without food in his hands. Every time he went back into the kitchen, Lorenzo was tossing an olive in his mouth, or tilting his head back to drop in some feta cheese. Well, he could ponder that later. There were too many other things to worry about, in fact; he knew he had better concentrate on the present or run the risk of getting left behind by the others. They were quick to forget him. He stood in the back, as he watched Yukon and Eastwood turn the latch to the door and peek out to check that the coast was clear.

“We’re good,” Eastwood said as he motioned for the others to follow him into the lower level of the White House.

“It’s about time,” a voice rang out from the other side of the room. It was Mick’s manager and long time friend, Marlo Jenkins. “I waited so long and I finished all these crossword and Sudoku puzzles; I was about to go out of my mind.”

Marlo pointed to the small stack of completed puzzles so everyone was sure to be impressed. He was a bit of a know it all, but more than that, he was a huge dick. Although, if anyone were to take a closer look, they’d realize he just filled in the boxes with nonsense words such as, cliterally and weinus, to seem smarter than he really was. Again, he was a huge, massive dick.

“It’s good to see you. Have you had much trouble here?” Mick asked.

“There was one long attack after the President left, but then nothing. It’s like they know he’s gone. All the Secret Service guys are upstairs, taking shifts between going on watch and playing Halo in the theater room.”

“Have you heard from President Bacon since he arrived at NORAD?” Eastwood asked.

“No, Air Force One touched down an hour ago and there’s been no further contact.”

“No news is good news, am I right?” Tad asked not really expecting an answer.

Kitty followed up, “I’m not sure that’s true during invasions, Tad.”

Eastwood turned to the group, “Alright, here’s what’s next. The First Gentleman, Mr. Jenkins & I, will head to Air Force Two, and we will need to be quick about it. Kitty and Yukon will need to come with us. The rest of you will be safe here. Follow us up to the theater room; it will be on our way. We’ll leave you in the capable hands of the Secret Service. The only place safer than here is NORAD.”

 

***

     President Bacon and his staff are just collecting themselves from a second attack, as the third wave arrived. Luckily, they had only suffered a few casualties, all of which were basically low level red shirts, some of whom were slaughtered by alien hands, but most were gunned down by his staff after being zombified. Evan couldn’t get over how amazing his cabinet was, especially Stanley Johnson. The Director of Homeland Security was almost as round as he was tall. His nickname around the Homeland Security office was, Lunchbox because he could really pack in the food. He was a fairly unassuming man under normal conditions, save for his size. Stanley was often seen adorned in the trappings of a wealthier man, but at his core; he was simply a country boy out of his element. He played the game well though, using a large chunk of his money to buy nice clothing and fancy things, in an attempt to blend in with the Washington elite. That façade went by the wayside, once the first wave was upon them. Now, he was like an albino Hulk, tossing the Inkaku around like napkins at a pig picking. Evan tried to remain by his side; he was clearly the partner you wanted in a fight. As the new batch of aliens poured in, Evan and Stanley were back to back, beating the shit out of any Inkaku stupid enough to test them. Evan was out of ammo, much like the rest of his team, so every object in the room became their arsenal. The Inkaku were fast, but not exceptionally strong. They were just as vulnerable as us, so the trick was getting past their armor. The down side was that without the added weight, they moved much faster.

In the break room, down the hall from Evan and his staff, is the President’s Secretary, Marietta Lewinsky. She followed The President everywhere and especially this time, thinking she would avoid danger. Unfortunately, danger followed them to NORAD. She is alone and barricaded in a poorly lit break room, with no way to defend herself, should the aliens find their way in. During the initial attack, she heard the calamity down the hall in the operations room and when she peeked out, she saw two Inkaku step into the hallway. She ducked back out of site and gasped, just as one of the butt-ugly aliens, turned to look in her direction. It missed her, but it could certainly head her way at any moment.

Marietta gently pressed the door closed and turned the locking mechanism as quietly as possible. The room was solid on three of its four walls, but the hallway wall was entirely glass. Perhaps it was sturdy enough to keep them out, but why risk it?

Better to stay out of sight, she thought, as she receded behind one of the couches in the room. She lowered her head to peer under the red velour couch, and watched as the alien slowly passed. She could tell by its stride, that it was surveying the room for potential targets as it approached. It stopped at the door and shook the handle. To her dismay, she peed a little at the fright of seeing the ugly creature. Thankfully, the alien didn’t see the need to continue and carried on down the hall.

She was safe, but for how long? Maybe someone would come to collect her after the battle? That was of course unless they all died. Maybe they fled, leaving her behind? She resolved to remain hidden, until someone, be it human or alien; came for her.

Marietta remained on the floor. Her long golden hair spilled around her head, hiding her face. Her pant suit was beginning to smell of urine. She got behind the couch, remaining out of sight, but now she could slip off her wet pants. Unfortunately, she wore no underwear, but she had just recently had her junk waxed. So, if anyone caught her, literally with her pants down, she would be more proud than embarrassed. Marietta removed her belt from her urine-stained slacks, and fastened it back around her waist. In the front, she wrapped a kitchen towel around herself, which she removed from the counter with her toes.

All that yoga finally paid off, she thought.

Her makeshift loincloth would do little to preserve her modesty, but it was better than nothing. As she relaxed on the floor, she looked straight up at the ceiling. A noise was coming from the air vent above her, and it was getting louder. She knew it was that alien from before; it must have smelled her leaky faucet.

Marietta leaped to her feet and jumped for the door, a fraction of a second before the alien bastard hunting her, broke through the ceiling and landed just where she had been before. She took a long look at the repugnant beast, as they squared off to face one another. The scene was reminiscent of a Wild West gun duel, but instead of it being between two leather-faced old cowboys, it was between a woman in a rough cotton loincloth and a monster with a shitty hairstylist.

Ever so slightly, Marietta’s eyes cut to the door. The alien glanced at it as well, but tilted its head and then returned its gaze, as if to say, are you feeling lucky, bitch?

Marietta did feel lucky. She was also feeling pretty sexy, seeing that she was half-naked and the alien before her, sort of looked like Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny DeVito’s baby. She had lost her cherry to the movie, Twins a few years ago, when it aired on TBS, to a guy named Fernando. He worked in the kitchen department at Home Depot. They had been in a break room, much like this one and on a couch, much like the one that separated her and her attacker.

Marietta lunged for the exit, but the Inkaku was too fast and thwarted her escape. It grabbed her right arm, just as she grabbed the door with her left. The alien jerked her away with such force, that she flew across the room and into the refrigerator. The freezer door swung open from the force, and a TV dinner fell into her lap. As the Inkaku started again for her, she grabbed the frozen dinner and hurled it like a Frisbee, slapping the beast in the head. The Inkaku stopped dead in its tracks. It was just as frozen as the Salisbury steak that hit its head. Marietta reached into the freezer for more ammo, and hurled them one by one like ninja stars. Several of the boxes, cut the alien with their sharp, rock-solid edges. The Inkaku began its charge, just as she emptied the freezer. Marietta waited until the alien was almost upon her and then slammed the freezer door on its head. The alien let out a scream, to signal it was getting fed up with this little game and slammed its fist into the refrigerator. It then grabbed the refrigerator and flipped it over, but in its rage, didn’t notice the pot of old coffee headed for its face. The glass shattered into a thousand shards, as the stale coffee enveloped its entire face. The Inkaku dropped like a sack of horny puppies.

Marietta slowly approached the Danny DeVito look alike, as it lay motionless on the floor. Her hand wrapped tightly around the cord of a toaster, that she was ready to whip at it, should it move. The alien remained still, but opened its eyes slowly to look upon its opponent. She raised her arms, preparing to deal the deathblow. The Inkaku opened its mouth slightly, to reveal a shit-eating grin, as if the roles were reversed, and he wasn’t the one bested.

Why was this fucker smiling? Then she smelled it; the alien bastard had farted. With no time to lose, she brought down the cord with the toaster, and it came crashing down to find its new home, lodged in the alien’s skull.

The President’s Secretary stood above her kill, but she wouldn’t find victory today. The match would end in a tie…

 

***

Katie and Rose ran down a back alleyway behind a Pizza Hut, to avoid some aliens that were just around the corner. The aliens were everywhere it seemed; there was no safe place left.

“I’m so hungry; I think I could actually eat a Pizza Hut pizza,” Katie said.

“Do we have any more hot dogs from DC Wieners?” Rose asked.

“I used the last one to beat up that alien at that gas station.”

“We have to get to a safe place; we are not going to make it much longer, without any weapons,” Katie said.

“I think we should go to the White House.”

“How would be able to get into the White House and what makes you think we would be safer there?”

“I don’t know; that’s where Yukon and that other man, the one who sent us dick pics were going. Maybe someone would let us in,” Rose said.

“I guess we could, since I can’t think of a better idea. We need to get our hands on a gun somehow.”

“I’m sure all the gun stores, Walmart and every other place that sells guns, have all been looted,” Rose said.

“You know there’s a bar a block away from here, called The Blue Oyster Bar. It’s right across the street from the Cherubim Café. Most bartenders keep a shotgun behind the bar. It’s a long shot, but we should at least look and see.”

“God, what I wouldn’t give for a sandwich from the Cherubim Café The owner is a bit weird though.

Katie peeked around the corner. “The aliens are gone now.”

The girls made a run down the street, taking cover beside abandoned cars, just in case any aliens popped up. When they got to The Blue Oyster Bar, Katie looked inside the window. She didn’t see the usual men with assless leather chaps and sailor hats dancing. She pushed open the door and immediately the song, “El Bimbo” by Bimbo Jet started playing. (Once again, please enjoy the song, “El Bimbo” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DFifyV6vfBw

“How the hell is that music still playing, when there’s no one even here?” Rose asked.

Katie went behind the bar to see if she could find any weapons. “The liquor has all been looted. The only thing left are wine coolers.”

Rose made a face and shook her head. She started taping her toes. “You have to admit, this song really makes you want to dance.”

“Um…okay?” Katie said, and stuck her hand underneath the shelf on the register. “Damn, I can’t find anything.” She was just about to give up, when she noticed the floor mat. She lifted it up to reveal a door, to what she assumed must be a cellar. Katie pulled the cellar door open and thankfully it was unlocked.

“I found a cellar; let’s go down there together. I don’t think it’s a good idea to separate.”

Katie and Rose went down into the cellar. There was a poster of the Village People hanging on the wall and a bunch of wine racks filled with wine bottles.

“Holy shit, we’ve hit the mother lode,” Rose said.

If that wasn’t enough, right behind the wine rack, was a gun rack with a shotgun and a Kalashnikov. There was also a box of shells and bullets. Katie put the box of bullets in her back pack. The Kalashnikov had a strap, so she put that around her shoulder and handed Rose the shotgun and shells.

“Do you know how to shoot?” Katie asked.

“A little bit, I went to target shooting once with this guy I used to date.”

“Just be careful, a shotgun has a lot of kick to it. You know, maybe we should just hold up here. We have guns, ammo and plenty of alcohol. Why don’t we just get wasted and stay in here until this whole alien thing blows over.”

“It might not ever blow over and besides, we have plenty of alcohol, but very little water left and no food. Also, I think eventually the aliens would find us,” Rose said.

“What the hell is that?” Katie asked and pointed to a leather suit in the corner.

“It’s a gimp suit. I think this might be a sex dungeon.”

Katie’s phone vibrated; she had about 5% battery left.

“I got a text message from Melvin. It’s a picture of a kitten and a dildo in a tree with the caption, ‘hang in there.’

 

Shit First and Ask Questions Later

On the streets of D.C., much like other cities around the world, chaos is the flavor of the day. Across the globe, fires and looting have altered the landscape and rendered most of the cities and towns unrecognizable from their state at the start of the day. The only areas with any semblance of calm and civility are farms, rural communities and Detroit. To add insult to injury, at the height of our self-realized demolition, another worldly enemy has arrived on our doorstep with ill intentions and poor manners.

Few have seen the actual beings that are sending instruments of destruction, that turn us into their weapons. The small spheres release a noxious gas, which convert those unlucky souls close by into avatars of annihilation; turning brother against brother, similar to a soccer match.

Spectators in buildings a few floors up, have been able to lay eyes on the invaders. They appear almost magically in a flash of light, shortly after the spheres release their payload. Those close enough to describe them say, they look like a seven foot tall Danny DeVito; completely hairless, except for a wreath of long, greasy hair around their fatty heads. Their faces have folds of skin, beginning under their ear holes that sloped up and around the bridge of their pig-like noses, resting under thin, solid blue eyes. Their bodies are mostly hidden away, behind armored suits of purple and gold, leaving only their heads and hands exposed. When looking at them from behind, you would think they were just tall humans with poor genes and bad hygiene. Only their face and arms give them away. The visitors have two arms that branch out from the elbows, essentially giving them four arms. Each hand is elongated with two fingers and a thumb, probably making it a bitch to wipe their ass. The aliens failed to kill all the radio and video broadcasts. Scientists believed they communicated telepathically, or through pheromones and were either unable to recognize the waves that carried satellite and radio signals, or they just didn’t give a shit. Due mostly to their facial appearance, the Japanese were calling them, Inkaku and reporters quickly followed suit, before fully researching what the word meant. Before long, the name became permanent and the Japanese were quite pleased with themselves, having pulled a practical joke on the entire world.

The tunnel leading to the White House was a long one. The walk would normally be exhausting, but Mick and his entourage considered it a relaxing stroll, compared to what they had just gone through. Kitty, ever the interviewer, used her time in the tunnel to get to know their new chaperone, Eastwood. Yukon and Melvin were listening in, providing their own questions when they could find an opening. Tad, Geoff, Lorenzo and Tom the waiter, were walking in a tight group, silently, as if they were leaning on each other to remain awake. Mick was off in his own little world, coming down from his high. He hasn’t been this excited, since his first night with Evan. Thinking back to that night, he now missed Evan more than ever…

 

***

     In a tiny town located near the Virginia coast, Mick Cage, the adult film actor from such movies as, Edward Penishands and Wet Dreams May Cum, is waking up to the sunrise, that is just peeking through the blinds. His hair is a mess and his clothes are scattered about the floor.

“Good morning, how did you sleep?” The warm body spooned behind him said.

“Sleep? What sleep?” Mick said with a smile. “I’m too excited. I can’t believe that just happened.”

“I hope I wasn’t too rough with you.”

“No, I’m use to that sort of thing,” Mick turned to his lover, “But, I’ll never get use to this.”

“I’m glad; I’ve really enjoyed having you around this week. I’m a little sad it’s coming to an end. Are you sure you have to go? Evan asked as he mirrored Mick’s smile.

“Unfortunately, but I hope we can see each other soon. My new flick begins production tomorrow and I need to prepare. My manager, Marlo, wants to pick me up later this morning.”

“You don’t get much breathing room between films, do you?”

“If I’m lucky; in this business, it’s good to stay busy. Before Pokahotass, I was almost flat broke; I hadn’t worked in months. It’s sad to admit this, but I was surviving week to week, by charging strangers I’d meet on the internet a hundred dollars apiece for CBT’s.”

“CBT’s?” Evan asked.

“Oh, sorry. Cock and Ball Torture,” Mick explained.

“Ah. Good to know.”

“Yeah, they’d find me on Craigslist, pay me through PayPal and I would meet them at Denny’s.”

“Then what?” Evan asked completely captivated.

“I’d let them punch me in the dick or karate chop my balls, stuff like that.”

Evan turned away and reached for his wallet on the nightstand. Mick’s hand grasped his shoulder just before he collected it.

“For you,” he said in a hushed, sexy tone, “No charge.”

A half hour later in the rainforest themed shower, Evan calls out to Mick, who is drying off near the bed. “I was thinking about what you said earlier…”

“I hope my past isn’t too much for you.”

“No, I was talking about Denny’s. Let’s go. Tell Marlo to meet us there.”

“Are you sure you want to be seen with a known porn actor, Governor? What if you want to run for President one day?”

Evan chuckled. “As if.”

“Don’t brush it off. Remember, there was a time when everyone said there was no way Donald Trump would win a third term and yet here we are… the Twenty-Second Amendment is toast and President Trump is well on his way to winning his fourth term in office.”

“That’s true; I still can’t believe Hillary Clinton keeps running against him. She’s a glutton for punishment, I suppose.”

Mick pops his head into the bathroom to make sure Evan can hear him, “She must love the cock and ball torture.”

 

***

President Bacon was sitting on the toilet in NORAD, trying to drop a deuce. He was reading the

infamous 1938 issue of Time Magazine that named Hitler, “Man of the Year.” It was the only thing available to read. Time had gotten it wrong that year, and the years 1939 and 1942, when Stalin got the honors, and in 1979, it was the Ayatollah Khomeini’s turn, and finally in 2007, it was Vladimir Putin. So, if you are a future ruthless dictator, you have a pretty good shot of getting the honor.

He was just about to pinch a loaf, when he heard shouting outside the door, followed by gunfire.

The President could hear Eggs, his Chief of Staff. “How the hell did they get inside NORAD? This place is impregnable.”

“That’s what she said,” CIA Director Ted Striker said.

“They’ve breached the hold,” General Usrodd said.

“That’s what she said,” Ted Striker said.

“God damn it Ted, this is no time for your immature jokes,” Secretary of State Cecilia, “The Hammer” said.

“My God, they got one of the engineers,” Secretary of Defense Victor Kankoff said.

The President quickly wiped. He must have put too much toilet paper in, because it wouldn’t flush when he pulled the handle.

“Shit, the toilet is clogged. I’ll have to fix that later,” he said aloud.

The President turned on the faucet to wash his hands, because an alien attack was no excuse for bad hygiene. He pulled out a Sig Sauer p320, along with a clip that was inside his jacket. He didn’t normally carry anything, because it was the Secret Service’s job to protect him, but they had remained behind to defend the Whitehouse. He didn’t see the need for them to come along, since he was going to be in NORAD, the one place he should have been safe. Luckily, he had grabbed the gun on his way out, just in case.

With his gun brandished, the President kicked the bathroom door and it came off the hinges. He could have just opened it, but that would have looked lame.

“Get some you bastards,” he yelled and fired his gun at the first alien he saw. He was a good shot, thanks to his husband, who taught him how to shoot, and took him to target practice. He hit the alien right between the eyes and it went down.

Evan surveyed the room; it was pure pandemonium. He couldn’t believe his eyes, his meek and mild Director of Homeland Security, Stanley Johnson, held an alien straight up in the air and then suplexed it, and if that wasn’t astonishing enough, Victor Kankoff, who was standing on top of the W.O.P.R., jumped through the air and did a flying elbow drop on it. The alien seemed to be unconscious. The Hammer actually pulled a hammer from her purse and bashed an alien in the forehead. General Usrodd was mounting a machine gun on a tripod and Ted Striker was lying on his stomach, underneath one of the desks in a sniper position, strategically taking out aliens with a rifle.

God damn, do I know how to pick a cabinet or what, he thought.

The only one not engaged in action, was Dr. Rommel, who was cowering behind some broadcasting equipment. Most of the engineers had already turned. More aliens kept flooding in the room and despite their weaponry, it looked like he and his staff would ultimately be killed, because they were severely outnumbered.

Well, if we are going down, then at least we are going down fighting, he thought.

The President took aim at an alien and he was just about to fire, when he smelled a pungent odor. It seemed like everyone else in the room smelled it simultaneously, because they all covered their nose and made a face. It had a different effect on the aliens though. The first thing he noticed, was that their armor melted off and then they made this high pitched screech, as it melted their skin to the point, where nothing was left of them, but a slimy green puddle.

“What the hell is that smell?” Ted asked.

The smell was coming from the bathroom. The President had inadvertently stumbled on the alien’s vulnerability. It seems, by clogging the shitter, he had saved everyone in the room.