The Nightmare We Face

With a sparkle of pink lightning and a whiff of Juicy Fruit, Homokommando G. of GLBT-Force appeared in the President's bedroom. L. and T. were right behind him. They'd left B. at home. This was a job for hardened queers only.

The First Lady was awake. She generally did her reading while the President was asleep. "Is someone there?" she called.

"Your worst nightmare," growled L., and then GLBT-Force stepped into the light of the bedside lamp.

The First Lady leaped from her bed.

"My goodness, you've kept your figure," said G. "I can never tell, with those lumpy suits you wear—"

"Sweetheart, wake up!" the First Lady screamed. "There are homos in here!"

The President sat bolt upright. He assessed the situation in an instant. His lip curled, and he found himself thinking of the great Colorado grizzly, how fierce it was when disturbed in its den—

Then L. Mutual-of-Omaha'd him with her dart gun. He slumped, snoring.

"Don't shoot me," the First Lady begged.

"Toots, I only shoot men," L. said, her black cheroot waggling.

The First Lady backed against the wall. "What do you want from us?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"This!" hissed T, and xie jumped forward, grabbed the First Lady's hand, and tore off her wedding ring.

The First Lady froze in horror. She hadn't taken that ring off since that blessed day in the baseball stadium, with the National Guard flyover, the cheering stockholders, the Emir's falconers. Everything had been so uncertain and frightening and exciting then; she and the President had been so young, just a couple of crazy kids—and now it was gone. She collapsed, wailing, to the rich red carpet.

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry," said G., kneeling beside her and fumbling in his fanny-pack. "Here, I've got some Zoloft—"

T. had grabbed the President's ring too. "Mission accomplished," xie said. "Let's book."

"Hang on," growled L. She had a .7mm flechette cannon strapped to her bulging forearm. It hummed discreetly, making white hash of the First Couple's ivory-framed wedding certificate, which hung on the South Wall. "Hoo-ahh!" L. hollered.

"That'll do." said G. "Now, back to Sodom Central with us sinners!" He touched his belt, and GLBT-Force vanished in a homotech flicker.

next