A few nights after the defeat of the Devil and 4 Horsemen in the Battle of the Social Security Administration Parking Lot (see the Great Washington Apocalypse of 2012) the notes of a bluesy saxophone and sweet lyrics sung by a strong female voice wafted through the redolent scents of the White House Rose Garden.
I’ll always love you
for the rest of my days. …
You bring me happiness
every day of every year
Taylor Dane
In the Rose Garden, a man and woman came together in a confident embrace and danced to the love song while mischievous eyes watched from the sidelines. Shortly, the owners of the eyes joined the man and woman in a family hug and group dance. The short child climbed up her father’s back and hung from his neck and the taller of the two encircled both parents with her arms. The dance turned into an exaggerated, stand up, giggling wrestling match as the man leaned far to one side, risking toppling, regaining balance and leaning far the other.
The next evening, all of the fair and balanced news shows carried photos of the Presidential dance and hugs, and described a Presidential free for all in the Rose Garden- a helpless First Lady brutalized by an enraged philandering President and their courageous daughters coming to her rescue. All the experts agreed that the ability of paparazzi to access the Rose Garden was a concern but the experts and loyal opposition agreed that having a wife beating Presidential adulterer in the Oval Office was a greater concern. Loyal supporters of the President pooh-poohed the whole thing as a simple misunderstanding and asserted that there was “reasonable explanation.”
The Texas prairie country Sheriff’s Deputy who had saved America from the Devil and his Henchmen had attended her son’s violin recital and returned to fighting crime in her small part of America, was forgotten and happy for it.
It had not taken long for life in America to return to normal.
The Hollywood version of the Great Washington Apocalypse soon followed. It was a bigger than life silver screen extravaganza with a cast of many produced and directed by that world-renowned moviemaker, Pecos Brazos Houston. Pecos Brazos Houston, no relation to either Rose or Sam Houston, is a 14th or 15th generation Texan whose claim to Texas ancestry predates even the great Sam Houston.
The movie was produced on a compressed time schedule that had nothing to do with a Presidential election year. None of the historical figures who were actually involved in the events was available to participate. Because of this, the characters of the Head Ranger, Tarrant County Sheriff and President of the United States were all combined in one-the Governor of Texas. Thank God for miracles, the actual Governor of Texas, Cherokee Crockett Nacogdoches, was available and starred as himself.
Rose Houston, the Yellow Rose of Texas, was portrayed by a blonde actress with big blue eyes, bigger hair and even bigger breasts called “Stella Starlet.”
There were a few minor costume changes. The real life Rose Houston is of mixed ancestry with jet-black hair and deep brown eyes and when on duty wears her hair pulled back and tied in a bun. Her duty uniform includes western boots with a modified walking heel, vaquero style spurs when mounted, a standard issue clip on tie and her uniform shirt is always buttoned to the top. Stella wore 4-inch heels and a custom fitted uniform. In addition to not wearing a tie, her shirt was always unbuttoned to her belly button and she wore an American flag belly button pin. She wore jingly jangly rhinestone spur earrings instead of regular spurs because the costume people could not find any that would fit onto her stiletto heels.
The opening scene shows Cherokee in shiny black cowboy boots, wearing a red, white and blue thong with a strategically located white star, kneeling atop a West Texas mesa praying for the President and the country. While he prays, a pack of hundreds of coyotes surrounds him and attacks. He pulls his six-gun with the laser sight and dispatches them one by one as quickly as he can pull the trigger and reload, but it is just not fast enough. It looks like he might be headed to that last roundup in the sky. Suddenly, Ranger Rose Houston rides to the rescue. She has a six-gun in each hand and is dispatching the coyotes handily. After a brutal shootout, Stella and Cherokee both kneel and give thanks to the Lord.
The Governor is grateful, and when our country is trapped in its darkest moment, he calls upon her to save the country.
The crisis begins when the Devil, leading the 4 Horsemen of the Apocalypse, attack America. They are much much larger than life, outfitted in black gladiator armor, with steroid swollen muscles and are leading an army of barbarians on horseback. The barbarians have dark tattoos of evil looking vine like objects growing out of their pants and collars and down and around their arms and legs and their heads are all shaved and each and every one has a van dyke beard. They all have deep voices, laugh loudly, hardily and evilly, and they have hairy armpits and legs. The Devil’s banner is all black with a gold Crescent and Star in the center and the standard-bearers carried symbols created by combining long spears with crescents and stars.
They thundered down from the eastern Maryland Mountains like an avalanche of violence. The National Guard and United States Marines counter-attacked but most were on leave attending same sex marriage ceremonies. Being mostly openly homosexual males and atheists, the remaining forces retreated west of the Potomac while the Devil and his forces occupied the Capitol. The President cowered in the White House basement but the First Lady and First Children escaped to Chicago where patriotic Chicago Gangsters who talk out of the sides of their mouths hid them.
The Devil has all of the crosses from all of the churches in town and replaced with either Gay Liberation or Global Warming Flags or Islamic Crescents. All women are required to use contraceptives and corner liquor stores are replaced by neighborhood abortion clinics. The sex education curriculum in the public schools is changed to include “how to” instruction for homosexuality and pamphlets like “Homosexuality: Pain in the Ass? You’re doing it wrong” are mandatory reading for all pre-school students. A special wing of the Smithsonian Museum is opened as a Hall of Fame for Pedophiles.
Women caught wearing bikinis in public, even if they are covered up by a Burka, are summarily beheaded with dull Damascus swords and women who show painted toenails in public lose those same toes in public-amputated with pruning shears in Freedom Plaza. The severed heads are impaled on the White House fence, but the toes are cooked with fennel and capers in a nice wine sauce and served as appetizers at State dinners for visiting Muslim heads of state.
Meanwhile, Congress busies itself by passing more legislation to create more federal rules, spend more money and impose taxes on poor defenseless American job creators.
Cut to the Governor on the Southern Frontier. Once again, this devout Christian man enters on one knee, praying to God for wisdom, strength and courage. He wears his signature cowboy boots with his Long Star thong and traditional Roman Centurion leather upper body armor and cowboy hat. He looks like a latter day Augustus Caesar campaigning against the Visigoth Barbarians, except that he is campaigning valiantly against invading hordes of enormously pregnant brown skinned women and Death to American Culture Advocates masquerading as tomato pickers, dry-wallers and toilet cleaners.
These enemies of American culture are preparing for an all out assault on American values. Other American Cultural Centurion Heroes in Lone Star thongs stand about casually, flexing their muscles and posing so the invading hordes can see how impressive they are. Some are oiling each other down, caressing and massaging each other’s pronounced, blood filled muscles and hairless bodies with Aloe Vera Lotion after hard workouts in the gym.
This psychological warfare is working and the uncontrollable lust and longing in the eyes and loins of the surging tide of heathen anti-Christian anti-American Culture hordes is clearly visible.
Word of the eastern invasion reaches the Governor as he is moving into position to repel the attacking heathens. His forces are singing “Onward Christian Soldiers” in deep, richly masculine voices. The attacking hordes are singing “In the Navy” and “I’m Having Your Baby (to the tune of She’s Having My Baby).” As the Governor of Texas, he knows that responsibility naturally falls to him to save America but he is decisively engaged with invading hordes and due to the federally driven national bankruptcy, neither Texas nor the nation has the resources to fight a war on two fronts.
In his mind, it is time to call in the ultimate weapon-Rose Houston.
He explains the situation to Rose in direct terms. “Rose, looks like things are ah fixin to get purty dark in Washintun. I need for yew to head over thar and eee-thur fix it or hold thuh line ’til we get things a straightened out here. We won’t be long.”
Rose inhales deeply and rolls her hips reflectively, “You got it, Big Boy.” Then heads for D.C. atop a great white stallion,
Shortly thereafter, inspired by a spirited rendition of “YMCA,” the heathens attack.
Unknown to the Heathens, the Great Southwest Frontier Heathen Defense Fence had been electrified and was set up so that the Governor could divert all of the electrical power flows in the Southwestern United States into the fence with the push of a tiny red button. The Governor pressed the button.
The first wave of toilet brush brandishing anti-Americans crashes into the electrified electric fence and instantly become crispy critters. The second wave has the same experience but overloads the entire southwest U.S. grid and casts homes from Nogales to Corpus Christy into darkness.
The third waive, mostly hugely pregnant brown skinned women shrieking “I’m having your baby,” crashes into it and for a moment, it looks like the fence is going to give. It creaks and flexes under their weight, and then glows a bright blue while the Anti-culturalist Anchor-baby bearers sizzle and pop like bacon in hot grease and their fetuses create secondary explosions that spread burning innards like flaming shrapnel.
There is a fourth limply futile charge and then, at last, the few remaining heathen survivors retreat into Juarez bordellos to lick their wounds and other body parts.
The smoke of battle wafts across the early morning battlefield and the Christian American Centurions sniff the air. The fight is over, America has won. Cherokee sniff’s the air and comments, “I love thuh smell ah chicharrones in thuh mornin, It smails lak victree.”
Without stopping to rest, Cherokee and his Centurions head east to save America in what is destined to become known as the Battle of the Social Security Parking Lot. But, just before leaving, Centurions line up along the border, thump their left breast with their right fist in salute to their dead enemy and softly remind them, “Jesus loves you.”
Cherokee rides in front, standing tall and proud in his chariot pulled by two actual Budweiser Clydesdales with the American and Christian flags waving proudly from an oversized Cross of Jesus. The Centurions follow, jogging in step, singing “Onward Christian Soldiers” in their rich masculine voices.
Soon they arrive at the battlefield. Intelligence reports from the front indicate that The Yellow Rose of Texas has been taken prisoner and is being held captive on a tiny island in the reflection pond of Grant’s Memorial. Rather than dilly or dally, Cherokee launches his forces into battle immediately upon arrival.
He splits his troops in to four phalanxes. One phalanx crosses the Wilson Bridge, one crosses the 14th Street Bridges, another crosses the Memorial Bridge, and the last crosses the Theodore Roosevelt Bridge. The Plan is to cut off the enemies escape to the south and the north while the two inside groups, in the words of another famous American Military Hero, “find the enemy, fix him, and kill him.”
This drives theater audiences wild.
The opposing forces meet mid bridge with the force and violence of two colliding tsunamis.
The valiant defenders of America suddenly turn their crosses horizontal and reveal that they are actually Gatling guns. Their combat cries, “Long live the Prince of Peace,” “Death to the Heathens,” and “Jesus Loves you” ring loud and clear in the battlefield air. Demon bodies are vaporized and a pink mist hangs in the air to an altitude of several hundred feet. Heads and other body parts are splattered and scattered about the landscape.
Cherokee Crocket Nacogdoches races forward to rescue the virginal Rose of Texas and finds her prostrate, tied down at the ankles and wrists, legs spread asunder in a most unlady like manner, the Devil himself standing over her, naked and visibly aroused. The 4 Horsemen are lined up behind him singing, “Chattanooga Choo Choo” and occasionally shouting “Chooooo, choooooo!”
“Hold it, Devil.” Cherokee jumps from his chariot and stands at the ready.
Rose looks to Cherokee with terror-filled eyes, “Oh save me, brave American Warrior! Save me from this fate worse than death.”
The Devil roars with laughter, waves his enormously turgid phallus over the recumbent Rose, and winks at Cherokee. “You’re next, bub.”
Cherokee draws his laser sighted six guns and puts two bullets between the Devil’s eyes. The Devil laughs because he is not vulnerable to ordinary gunfire. Then, suddenly, he stops and looks surprised as his head fizzles and the top of his head explodes. The 4 Horsemen turn to flee but it is too late and Cherokee gets them with headshots, too.
Ever the visionary, Cherokee had had special bullets made filled with Holy water from the Jordan River. They burst open when they entered the heads of the Devil and 4 Horsemen and spewed Christian goodness about the inside of their feculent craniums. The interaction of this essence of Christ like goodness with the evil therein created a chain reaction that resulted in the explosions that killed them.
The battle ended soon thereafter.
That night, the Christian American Centurions bivouacked on the White House lawn, cleaning their Gatling Guns and sharpening their swords, singing olden time American spirituals, “Jesus Loves Me this I know…”
The President is restored in a short but dignified ceremony in the Rose Garden and a blondish Centurion female with fiery eyes and a photogenic face leads the country in prayer. She reminds all that our Christian God is a gentle God and a loving God, and a God that will tolerate no other god and will smite us all with his “turrable” swift sword and cast us all into hell on earth if we do not get with the program and “thank yew for yore gentle love. Amen.”
The President is played by a short, stooped, dark skinned man with bulging eyes and fly away nappy hair. While the prayer is being said, he is constantly looking directly into the camera bulging his eyes and rolling them in shock. The Governor and Rose are obviously very fond of him and they accept his slobbering thanks, patting him on the back and leaving.
Rose mounts her huge white stallion and leaves while crowds line the Jefferson Davis Highway and sing the “Yellow Rose of Texas” in her honor.
As Cherokee is leaving, one of his Lieutenants of color asks, “Do you think America will ever elect a real black man President?”
Cherokee tells him, “As God is my witness, Herman boy, I believe that that will happen someday,” He paused and reflected sagely, winking at the camera, “someday, but not in the next eight years. Let us pray.”
The closing credits clearly state that the Texas Board of Education, Kansas State Board of Education and the North American Cable News Research Affiliates, Incorporated certify the movie’s historical accuracy.
Well, some folks loved it, thought it was God’s truth; others were not so charitable in their opinions. As expected, there was a debate over whether America would ever elect a real black man President and even whether America was ready for a real black man.
Pecos Brazos tried to mollify the complainers. He announced in a news conference that Stella’s breasts were one hundred percent natural cellulose from old growth redwood and were completely organic because no commercial herbicides or insecticides had ever been used on them-ever.
That didn’t satisfy the purists. Truth be known, a lot of the criticism was probably politically motivated and but for the fact that the movie was premiered at the Republican National Presidential Convention we might never have heard much of it.
Then, there was the immigration issue. Cherokee is a fairly hirsute man, and this obvious fact detracted from his fundamental photogenic appearance-especially in a thong. So, Pecos Brazos hired an expert Brazilian Bikini Waxing Queen from Brazil. She was an attractive young woman and even more so in a thong bikini. The trouble began when it was discovered that she had been brought into the country on a guest worker visa type that is restricted to “sheep shearers.”
Pecos Brazos took personal responsibility for the “accident of paperwork” but the loyal opposition still made a big deal of it.
Most Americans shrugged this off as politics as usual because we all know that all small businesses have difficulties complying with federal regulations and everybody knows that the governor has a lot more hair than he needed.
In retrospect, things returned to normal soon after the crisis was resolved. The debate over where judges who were arrested for unpopular decisions should be held and if writ of habeas corpus applied to them replaced the debate over whether America was ready for a black President. Millions of Americans were unemployed, thousands were involuntarily homeless, millions of American children went to bed hungry and cold and the mistresses of Presidential candidates past and present came out of the woodwork to offer tantalizing stories of love betrayed and guilty consciences that sought salvation in public confession.
Americans otherwise went about their daily lives, working, socializing, being with family, going to and from church, mosque, synagogue, or other places of worship, or not going; striving to make their communities better places to live or not giving a damn one way or the other; and Patriotic American Conservatives redoubled their efforts to keep the Republican Party ranks free of Muslims and Ragheads and other unclean peoples while others forwarded and reforwarded emails about the First BItch. Somethings did change in that the First BItch emails evolved into “Angry Woman” and “Angry Black Woman” emails.
Life went on pretty much as normal.
Later that year, on a pleasant autumn night in Tarrant County, Texas, the autumn winds came from the north across the Texas Blackland Prairies. They blew through the scrub oak forests and spreads of Texas mesquite picking up left over pollen and moisture and aromas of nature and sweeping leaves and husks and prairie dust and the smell of cowboy campfires before them.
Felix Huston Robertson the 8th had just robbed a liquor store and killed the black cashier in honor of his namesake. He’d been chasing meth with Jack Black and a few miles back he had hallucinated a large brass longhorn bull with fiery eyes and a police light bar between its horns. “Damn,” he thought, “this is good shit.”
He was unhappy and headed to Mexico for a few days of drunkenness and debauchery and then he’d come back and do it again. America was going to helll. They had even elected one of those peope President and in spite of promises to the contrary it looked like he was going to be elected again.
Between the Jack Black and the meth, his pulse and vehicle speed were both in excess of 100 mph when the red and blue lights came into his rear view mirror. He pulled to the side of the road and drew an old .44 caliber six-shooter from under the seat. He figured he would kill this cop and be on his way.
Again, he looked in the mirror but couldn’t see the cop. Then he heard the American voice, strong, clear, unwavering and pure, decidedly female and matter-of-fact, “Driver, throw the gun out the window keep your hands where I can see them.” He sneaked a peek over his left shoulder and looked into the barrel of a twelve-gauge shotgun.
“Shit.”
Some days are like that when ordinary Americans challenge evil head on.