INDIANA JOE AND THE WALMART OF DOOM
…‘Fred, you mustn’t wear mommies clothes!’
‘Look mommy, aren’t I pretty? I look just like mommy!’
‘Honestly Fred, I don’t know what we’re going to do with you?!’ Now get those lady things off before your father sees you!’
‘Don’t hurt the boy!’
‘I told you boy, I told you before boy! Don’t you never put on girly clothes again!’
‘Not the belt daddy!’
‘You getting’ the buckle this time, you little fairy!’
‘No daddy, no!’…
Semi-conscious; the nightmares and bad memories came and went. Frederica lay on the floor of the toilet stall in the ladies room at Walmart, across from the in-store Starbucks. Freddie was delusional, surviving on only tranny-psycho meds and trash can pickens, and no real food since it was trapped by Nazis in the ‘Shithouse’.
…The gavel came down. ‘It will be a while before you rob a lingerie store dressed in women’s underwear again, you teenage pervert! I sentence you to reform school!’…
“I don’t wanna go! No! Oh no!” Freddie moaned in its tortured sleep as the flies buzzed. “Don’t, want, to be, a, boy!”
…‘Your problem is your penis. Sign here’…
Its iPhone rang with The Village People, Frederica slowly came to back to consciousness. Fumbling thru its purse Freddie answered.
“Hello” it cried weakly, “I hope you’re calling to save me!”
A firm alpha, white female voice responded, “Is this Frederica?”
“Yes, Oh yes, it’s me!” Freddie sniveled.
“Freddie, this is special agent Cat Lady from the FBI.”
“Agent Cat Lady?”
“One word, I’m part Indian.”
“Will you save me from the Nazis, because no one else will?!”
“Listen to me Freddie, we’ve got the whole Walmart surrounded. We’re going to get you out of there.”
There was an elevated noise level outside the ladies room.
“Freddie, as we speak, Counselor Loren Greenblatt of the Jewish Transgender League is on her way…”
MEANWHILE AT THE COURTESY DESK/COMMAND CENTER
Joe saw all who entered and exited the main entrance from the behind the Courtesy desk, and in the back room the wall was covered with security monitors. The diverse shoppers didn’t notice Joe’s men, large and dressed in black, stationed all over, or that the Traditional Crusaders had taken over the Courtesy desk. So focused on purchasing low-priced, toxic Chinese consumer crap were the shoppers, that they were oblivious to the platoon-sized force of tranny commandos that bum rushed the store.
The hideous transsexuals noisily made straight for the back, for the in-store Starbucks, or more precisely for the ladies room opposite, where one of their own, Frederica, was holed up, cowering in terror of Nazis.
Indiana Joe had the bulk of his force blocking the approach to the in-store Starbucks, with two reserves, and some small blocking teams, who’s job it was to slow the perverts advance. When they reached the ladies room, Joe would smash the trannies in his anvil of doom!
The numbers of actual participants would be small, but the effects of the battle for Walmart would be profound! This was one for the history books. Joe saw that this would be the ultimate test of whether or not men in dresses would be allowed to use the ladies room.
If Joe’s side won, he would have the political legitimacy he craved. If Joe lost, the entire of Middle America would be turned queer! Joe sighed under the heavy responsibility, but god was on his side.
MEANWHILE OUTSIDE WALMART
There was a lot of law enforcement in the parking lot, but the shoppers paid them no mind. Though half his size, FBI special agent Catlady was making Sheriff Beegsley backup as she berated him.
“Are you a dirty cop Beegsley?” she demanded.
“No! no, of course not, and I…”
“You spend a lot of time with neo-Nazis Sheriff.”
“Just doing my job agent, I assure you.”
“What can you tell me about Indiana Joe?”
“Oh, we have our eye on him.”
“And we have eyes on you Sheriff, federal eyes.” Beegsley again started to protest. Special agent Catlady cut him off, she was receiving communication thru her earphone. “Right.” She responded.
“Beegsley, which entrance does Indiana Joe use when he sneaks into Walmart?”
“Well I uh, I mean…”
“Beegsley, we have enough dirt on you to put you and your department away for a long time. You better play ball. We know all about your connections with the Traditional Crusaders party.”
“They’re a registered political party!..”
“So are the Republicans Sheriff. Which door does Indiana Joe use to sneak in? Which exit does the cowardly neo-Nazi take?”
“Joe comes and goes thru the unmarked backdoor by the food dock.” Beegsley looked at the ground as he reluctantly answered. He practically whispered, “The door with the Maltese cross above.”
Upon hearing that, Special agent Catlady whirled away from Sheriff Beegsley and spoke furtively into her earphone. Beegsley took the opportunity to phone Indiana Joe.
“Joe, it’s Beegsley, I’m outside in the parking lot with the FBI.”
“I can see that Sheriff.”
“Those Trannies you’re fighting. They have entered the store Joe.”
Joe sighed, “Yes, they’re kind of hard to miss!”
The trannies were advancing quickly to the back of the Walmart. The stuff of nightmares; customers dropped merchandise and fled before the cackling he/she menace. Many of these Midwesterners had only seen trannies on TV, and were smelling them for the first time.
Vicious criminal pre and post-op thugs, their natural inclination was to run wild; to terrorize in all aisles leading to the pharmacy and ladies departments. Despoiling merchandise with their dirty claws, groping the shoppers, stealing their shit, molesting the young and old, doing the unspeakable; trannies were the physical manifestation of the Jewish deep state.
It was up to counselor Greenblatt to choreograph these cats.
“Not the pharmacy girls! Later, not now. We have to rescue Frederica, remember?”
Greenblatt just got them moving by the jewelry department when they were pelted from behind the aisles with cheap cadmium filled necklaces and boatloads of rhinestone stiletto heels, which they just had to try on.
“Girls! If you want to get free housing in Brooklyn, if you want bonus money put down the shoes and help rescue Freddie, she needs us!”
The customers were giving them a wide berth by now, those remaining were there to fight. Large men dressed in black shadowed the trans-humans; storm troopers of the Traditional Crusaders were closing distance. They moved thru the apparel department.
“Don’t look girls! Don’t look at the cheap Chinese eveningwear; you’ll have money for real designer shit! Rescue Freddie!”
“We’re coming for you Freddie!” Shrieks and cackles, uttered the freaks.
BACK AT THE COURTESY DESK/COMMAND CENTER
Indiana Joe studied the security monitors. There was the burgeoning media presence in the massive parking lot. Good. There was Frederica, badly in need of a shower, wailing and slobbering, curled in the toilet stall. There were the contingents of his storm troopers and their battle works, and then there was the flash mob from hell; the invading trannies, headed to bust Frederica out of the ladies room.
“We’ve almost got them, when they get to Starbucks, we’ll close the trap, surround them on all sides. Leave Counselor Greenblatt to me.” Said Joe, and he meant business.
Storm Trooper Chewy was in command of the main blocking force. Joe called Chewy on his iPhone.
“It’s almost show time Chewy. Remember, don’t apply the Old Spice deodorant until you see the yellows of their eyes.”
“Boss, we all put on the Old Spice deodorant already, the cologne too.”
Joe sighed again; of all the best laid plans of mice and men…
The trans-homos smelled the Old Spice; deodorant and cologne both! They stopped in their tracks, repulsed by the masculine odor. Uh-Oh, and Joe vaguely remembered the faulty freezer in the fish department. The trannies locked on to the bad seafood smell and moved left. Without even knowing, the trans-mob bypassed the main force of the Traditional Crusaders. This ruined Joe’s hammer and anvil scheme!
In a matter of minutes the rotten sodomites would swarm the back, and rescue Freddie, and win the battle of Walmart!
Indiana Joe and his personal honor guard hopped over the counter and raced towards the enemy force, hoping to engage them in the rear.
“Deus vult!” and “Hail Victory!” They cried.
Would the Traditional Crusaders catch up with, and defeat the godless trannies? Could Indiana Joe save Middle America from a fate worse than death? Or, would the Jewish deep states globo-homo prevail?
To be continued…