Chapter 8

“Fuck, no! They just executed seventy-seven hostages! And now they’re firing upon the DC National Guard!” Becca screamed.

It was very nerve-wracking as we witnessed the firefight breaking out between a now federalized National Guard and the so-called “Incel Liberation Army” in DC. The ILA kept releasing statements urging riots, strikes, and other forms of “direct action and black pill resistance to the blue pill agenda of the Chad and Stacey regime.” Unfortunately for the Feds, not all of these cries fell upon deaf ears. No fewer than sixteen distinct incidents erupted in twelve different cities or towns nationwide.

The least violent of these actions took place in Sharon, Vermont, where forty-six men occupied the Baxter Memorial Library and declared allegiance to “the Citizens’ Federation of Incelastan.” They announced that Sharon was the “provisional capital of the Citizens’ State of Vermont” and their leader proclaimed himself “Governor Kane Newton.” It was highly doubtful whether this was the man’s real name, but it was also very unlikely to matter to anyone at this point.

“What is their plan, to create an entire commonwealth wholly composed of incels? The people would die out pretty damn fast!” I joked at the expense of the ILA, making Becca and Taslima giggle in spite of themselves.

“Not to mention it would collapse long before then,” Taslima observed while the three of us snuggled up together under the covers.

“That it would. But in the meantime... , “ Becca let the obvious meaning hang in the air.

“In the meantime, America falls, bit by bit. I caught your drift, babe. Trust me on that issue,” I concurred with Becca’s inference.

“Look at what just happened in Brooklyn! I’m not sure why the incels targeted Bethel and the Governing Body of the Jehovah’s Witnesses, but I won’t pretend to shed too many tears for the likes of Stephen Lett and Tony Morris. After all, they wanted us all dead at Armageddon, didn’t they?” I commented on the Bethel Massacre of 2021, where a group of incel terrorists opened fire on the whole leadership of the Watchtower Tract Society.

“Word on that, at least! Motherfuckers covered up child abuse ... which could be why. Think about it, Frank. What are the odds that this is random or part of an overall purge of religious fundies who might possibly be natural allies of these incel pricks? No, I think that whoever did this ... he suffered greatly at the hands of a Ministerial Servant or Elder or someone protected by them. Enough to blame the so-called ‘faithful and discreet slave,’ at the very least. The JWs have a well-earned reputation for protecting pedos and other sickos, just like the Vatican, I might add,” Becca suggested.

“You ... knew some JWs, didn’t you, back in the day?” I asked Becca directly.

“Ten-four. You got it. Nail on the head,” Becca confirmed.

“These ... Jehovah’s Witnesses, they’re a religious cult, yes?” Taslima inquired.

“For what good that does them. They’ve been knocked down several pegs now and they weren’t on the upswing already. An odd choice for a target of terrorists, given that they have little active interest in politics. Then again, they also covered up a lot of child abuse, so Becca’s idea might hold water. Could be revenge for past crimes committed against one of the killers,” I explained.

“Well, on a brighter note, how about some fun?” Becca offered as she parted Taslima’s thighs and began munching on her juicy twat.

“Works for me,” I chuckled, just as Taslima started moaning with delight and cussing in Arabic.