The Long March

Charlie had got his two Reptile Club shots when he was nine years old. Aged fourteen he collapsed during a PE class and had to have his lower right leg removed due to a blood clot.   

There were thousands of kids like Charlie across Peopleland who had had their lives and families destroyed by the Reptile Club injection & the regime mandates. His parents had both died of turbo cancer less than a year later.

Now aged sixteen Charlie lived with his grandfather in a small apartment on the 19th floor an oppressive concrete tower block owned by a CCP fentanyl kingpin. Charlie’s Grandfather had bought him his lottery ticket as an act of love more than anything else; neither of them really believed they had any chance of winning.

On Saturday evening Charlie sat with his grandfather huddled in front of the television watching the live draw unfold. As the numbers of the winning ticket were announced, Charlie followed each on the ticket he’d kept carefully folded in a pocket, expecting at any moment that they would stop matching the ones he saw laid out before him. As the fifth & sixth numbers were read out, he suddenly became disconnected from what was happening.

‘Grandad… Grandad… We’ve won… We’ve won!’

‘Let me see son’

Together they carefully confirmed the numbers as they were repeated and then stood staring at each other in disbelief.

‘You’ve won Charlie! You’ve won the Execution lottery!’ His grandfather cried. ‘You must call them immediately.’

The execution of Gaston was to be carried out in the capital in two week’s time. Charlie didn’t have the money to travel to the capital, but he did have his father’s old rifle – a bolt-action 22LR; one of only a handful that Gaston had not banned.

Charlie called the lottery company and informed them that he was the winner, but that he did not have the money to travel from the coast to the capital. However, he told them – if they were willing to wait, he was willing to walk all the way there. He pondered the practicalities of executing a man with a bolt action 22 with the appreciation that it might take Gaston a while to die with such a weapon, but after some consideration concluded that this might also be fitting.

King Donny heard about this young man who had been injured by the Reptile Club injections; whose parents had also lost their jobs during Gaston’s mandates, and who was willing to walk with a prosthetic leg all the way across the country carrying his father’s rifle in order to carry out the order of the court, and immediately offered to drive him all the way in a gold plated Cybertruck.

Charlie politely declined the offer, ‘No, it’s O.K. Sir, I’d rather walk; It’ll give me time to think.’

‘You take as long as you need Charlie.’ King Donny told him.

The new government free media picked up on this story and started reporting on what was promising to be an epic solo journey across the country by a disabled boy with a mission.

Walking on his prosthetic leg, and with his father’s bolt action 22LR rifle slug over his shoulder, Charlie set off for the capital and his date with destiny. In the capital awaited Gaston the Incredible – convicted of treason, mass murder and embezzlement, sat in prison awaiting Charlie’s arrival and the fulfillment of the sentence upon him.

Crowds of women young and old lined the highway throwing flowers at his feet as the boy limped along the national highway. Camera crews on motorbikes and hanging out off back of trucks crept along beside as if he was the Yellow Vest leader working his way purposefully up a step incline.

People emerged from the same villages that had run Gaston & Bollywood out town during his Grand Tour, to offer bottles of water and to cheer the nation’s new hero on. Old women reached out to try and touch or kiss the old battered rifle that would dispatch the tyrant Gaston, whilst throngs of people emerged along the way to join Charlie’s long march to the capital’s main square – the very same square in which Gaston’s Royal Police of Infinite Justice had crushed the people of Peopleland when they dared to stand up to him.  

As the growing convoy made its way across the country through sun, rain and storm, King Donny & Tony Tesla made preparations in the capital.

Along with the Gaston regime, King Donny had decided that the entire Royal state apparatus – Royal state media, Royal Police of Infinite Justice, and all the corrupt judges who allowed Gaston to stay in power should not escape punishment.

He announced that, seeing as they had facilitated all the societal ills the Gaston regime had been responsible for, they would all be exiled to an experimental island which was to be co-managed by the religion of perpetual violence and the people who did not know if they were a girl or a boy cult.

King Donny held a press conference and declared:

“These institutions failed to protect those they were entrusted to serve, and today we are going to set that right. Gaston told the people that the religion of perpetual violence and the people who don’t know if they are a girl or a boy would live harmoniously simple because they love him. Well, from today those that failed in their duty to protect the people from tyranny will be sent to a Trans-Islamic penal colony on a remote island for the rest of their lives.. We’re gonna check in with them in five years and see how it’s all going. Let this be a lesson to everyone: not all new ideas are good, some are just bad. ”

As Charlie and his convoy of supporters entered the capital, Gaston heard the cheers of the crowd and truck horns approaching through the bars of his window.

The guards informed him that the executioner was only sixteen, and was going to use one of the few firearms he had not ban for his execution; and that subsequently it might take him some time to die. Gaston suddenly regretted banning everything that would have killed him quickly, and longed for the days when a condemned man could pay the executioner the night before to ensure his blade was razor sharp, or in this case set the fire selector to fully auto.

That night both Charlie and Gaston prepared themselves for the big day in their own ways. Charlie watched YouTube videos of ‘how to kill a man with a single shot 22LR’, whilst Gaston and his government enjoyed their final meal courtesy of the taxpayer, the cost of which came in at just under $117,000. Later that evening Gaston requested a Trans-Islamic preacher, but one couldn’t be found, so he had to settle for a Trans person pretending to be a hate preacher. 

The next morning whilst it was still dark, Gaston rose put on his regimental blackface and laid out his costume for this final engagement. After going through the dressing up box many times, and deliberating over his options, he finally settled on his iconic Arabian Nights costume, the photos of which had started the blackface scandal in the first place.      

At dawn Gaston was led out into the main square in full regimental blackface and dressed in his white Arabian Night costume complete with a large bejewelled turban which caught the early morning sunlight giving it an iridescent sparkle. The bronze statue of Gaston on Gay Day, the stroller containing a child and the two drag queens still sat in the corner of the square piled up on top of each other like oversized fallen toy figurines.

Thousands of people had been camped out all night in the hope of securing a good spot. The mood of the crowd was one of well orderly anticipation, however, as soon as they caught glimpse of Gaston they erupted into chants of ‘Fuck Gaston! Fuck Gaston!’ They fell silent though when Judge Car Key emerged onto the square to address the crowds and ordered the regime to be brought out one by one as their names and charges were read out:

‘Y’all have been very bad, and now bad thing are going to befall y’all… Announced Car Key.

Gaston was to be the first to face Charlie and his battered old rifle.

‘Gaston the Incredible… you have been found guilty of treason, mass murder & embezzlement, and have been sentenced to death by firing squad. Bring his ass over here.’

Gaston was escorted to a post in the middle of the square and hands tied behind him to it. He was then asked if he had anything to say before the sentence was carried out and declared proudly ‘Happy Pride to Allah!’, which had been his cry to the crowds at the very first Gay Day in the capital. Immediately after which Judge Car Key dropped his arm as the signal for Charlie to fire.

Charlie was accompanied by his grandfather, who was acting as his spotter. He dropped down to one knee, adjusted his posture, and for what seemed like an awfully long time there was nothing- no sound. Then there was a sudden crack that reverberated around the square as Charlie fired his first shot into Gaston, who in turn did not appear to respond. Many in the crowd then turned to each other to confirm: ‘Yeah, they’re using 22’s.’

Sensing that this could be a drawn out affair, Charlie quickly worked the bolt action and chambered another round. ‘Crack!’ This time Gaston winced a little and then enquired if there was not a semi-automatic setting. ‘Sorry’ apologized Charlie… ‘You banned all them. This is all we have.’

‘Crack!’ Another shot rang out. This time Gaston whimpered and slumped somewhat; his sparkling turban tumbling from his head and black face taking on a grotesque almost sauced expression. ‘Crack!’ A fourth shot more quickly delivered this time caused Gaston to issue a gurgling sound as he finally slumped lifeless on the pole. The crowd erupted into cheers and gaggles of old women, who had been sat knitting, rushed forward to dip their hankerchiefs in Gaston’s blood. King Donny declared Gaston the Incredible dead, but had Tony Tesla run him over in a Cybertruck just to make sure.

One by one, each of the Gaston government were brought out to face the same fate: the minister who’s grandfather had accidentally been a Nazi; the ministers who had accidentally applauded a Nazi in the palace, and all the other ministers who had sent billion of dollars to the Nazis who operated the laundromat in Khazaria.    

It was a long day. Charlie’s got tired a few times and they had to send for more ammunition at least once, but by dust the task was complete and all the sentences had been carried out. Later that evening Tony Tesla’s rocket set off for Mars with Barry Bollywood and the entire Diet Soviet Party chained to the outside.

King Donny the Tremendous announced a new holiday to commemorate the end of the Gaston regime and Transportation of Barry Bollywood and his Diet Soviet Party to Mars, by declaring that going forward Nov 5^th would be known as Rifle & Rocket Day – a day for families to get together and celebrate by building large community bonfires atopped with Turbaned figures tied to rockets, and shooting at black-faced effigies with BB guns to the the cry of ‘Happy Pride to Allah!’

Now Peopleland was a proper country, and the people of Peopleland finally had something to be proud of.

The End