THOSE THAT LIVE BY THE GUN

THOSE THAT LIVE BY THE GUN BY MATTHEW LUCAS BECKETT “The only defense against a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a gun,,” said Bulethead Caliber Assaulrifle, President of The Nutty Revolutionary Anarchists on THE CONSERVATIVES RULE AND LIBERALS DROOL Television Network. “So, all you Good Guys out there, go out and buy all the guns you can, RIGHT NOW.” Charles switched off the television. “Well, I'm off to the gun store,” he told his wife, Hesla. “I'm coming too,” she said. “I might some time face a bad guy when you're not around.” “Fine,” said Charles. When they got to the gun store, however, the line was out the door, around the block, across the street and at least halfway down the next block. “Might as well get in it,” said Hesla Gunhand. Charles Gunhqnd nodded. Ten hours later they walked from the gun store, packing heat in a major way. Charles had an automatic assault rifle on both hips, a hunting rifle slung across his back and a fully loaded 200 caliber pistol in each hand. Hesla wore two 400 caliber pistols on each hip, four shot guns across her back and held one assault rifle in her left hand and two in her unusually large right hand. Others they passed on the street heading out of the various stores and those they passed still on their way in looked very envious. Suddenly, there was a cry behind them. Whirling, they saw a man lifting a bag from a woman standing by the open trunk of a car. Both instantly pointed all of their hand held guns at the man. “Drop the bag, Sir,” they both said. “There will be no stealing today. We're the good guys with the guns.” “Wait,”the man woman cried out. “We're. . .” Suddenly there was a click behind Charles and Hesla. “Drop the guns, both of you. You will not be robbing this couple. Not while this good guy has a gun.” Then there was a third set of clicks. “There will be no bad guys with guns doing any killing today. I'm the real good guy with a. . .” There was another click. “No bad guys will be doing any shooting today. The Good Guys with the guns are here to save the day.” There was a one more set of five clicks. “All of you bad guys with guns stand down, or The Real Good Guys with Guns, us, will. . .” Suddenly, the woman that had been holding the bag swooned and the man took a step towards her. Charles and Hesla shot, and then everyone was shooting. The four other sets of clicks first, but then everyone in the crowd that had bought their guns already and those that had brought their weapons from home. When the police arrived a short time later, they found everyone in the crowd lying dead, including Charles and Hesla and the man and woman, whose IDs revealed they had been husband and wife and that the bag contained heavy groceries, which he had presumably been trying to help her with.

WORSHIPERS OF GOLD

WORSHIPERS OF GOLD. BY MATTHEW LUCAS BECKETT The Monument displaying The Ten Conservative Commandments was erected on The Floor of The U.S. House of Representatives on January first, 2014. “Of course,” said The Speaker of The House, Goldhand Greedgood Starvethepoor. “It is really only The First that we need remember, since everything else automatically flows from that.” The very top of the huge, golden, diamond encrusted slab, laid this out: “FIRST AND FOREMOST. MONEY IS THE LORD THY GOD. THOU SHALT HAVE NO OTHER GODS BEFORE MONEY”. “That it does, MR. Speaker, that it does,” said The Majority whip, Silverbrain Diamondsouled. “So now, let us build a temple to Gold, The One True God.” They gathered every Conservative in the land on The National Mall, and collected the gold of every Republican, who gladly parted with it to construct a Temple to and statue of their only True God. “Now that we have all of your gold,” said The Speaker of The House through a megaphone. “We need all of those with skill in metal work to come forward and first to melt all of this glorious, godly gold into an alloy. Then we must decide what shape we want our temple and statue to be, since no human or animal form will do, since Gold itself is God.” “A ring,” someone shouted. “No, too common,,” someone else shouted. “A diamond.” There was much murmuring, but then someone struck gold. “A gold nugget for each. Our God's Natural Shape.” The Speaker saw in all of his audience's eyes that this proposal had been instantly agreed upon. “So let it be,” he said. The work took much longer than any had expected. “Well,” explained one of The Gold Smiths when The Speaker complained about the delay. “Some of this gold had a lot of other things mixed in, diamonds, silver, bronze, steel, and all, so it took longer to melt down than pure gold, plus then we had to separate that other stuff out of the melt, but we've almost got the alloy pure and ready now.” “Good,” said The Speaker. “It's been six months since we announced this project, and some people are starting to think we can not do it.” “Well, they are wrong,” said The Smith, angrily. “And we'll prove them so very soon.” And they did. Nine Months to the day after The Monument of THE TEN CONSERVATIVE COMMANDMENTS was first erected, it was re-erected inside The Temple To Gold and in front of The Tremendous Gold Nugget God that all now fell down prostrate before. “OH GREAT GOLD, MIGHTY MONEY, ONE TRUE GOD OF ALL. Forgive us for ever worshiping any other. We pledge ourselves, our lives and even our very souls to your eternal Service. Guide us in The Way of Greed, and help us never again to even think of showing any kind of charity at all to anyone in any sense. We will Serve and Worship you alone forever.” At first, of course, there was no response from the statue. They had not really expected any, since they had made it, but since they considered it a representation of their God, they felt they should pay it homage. But then,, although outside it was only around noon and the bright and sunny day was shining in through the many windows, the room suddenly went pitch black, as if all of the candles within and even the sun without had suddenly been snuffed out. Then The Statue began to speak. They could not see it, of course, but they knew approximately where it was, plus they could sense in some way that they could not quite identify that it was the statue speaking. “Thank you, foolish mortals. Long, long ages ago, before your sense of time even began, I was locked away from The Physical and Spiritual Worlds. But now, you have set me free of my prison. I am grateful, although it will be bad for you. Very bad.” “Be gone, Satan,” said a one time clergy person in their ranks. The Voice laughed even harder. “Nice try, but I am so much more than the one you call The Prince of Darkness. It was he and your One-Time GOD, THE TRUE GOD, by the way, who imprisoned me in the first place. Not that they worked together, exactly, but it was the efforts of both that did it.” “Then, what do you call yourself, The Darkness Itself?” asked The Republican Senate Leader. There was another laugh. “No, no, foolish mortal. Your kinds' obsession with names. I have no name that any Human tongue could pronounce or Human Mind could comprehend or withstand. To give you something to grasp, I am The Power Behind The Darkness. I am beyond Evil, Beyond Death, Beyond everything you think of of that nature. I am ancient, I have existed since infinitely before anything you could comprehend. I was imprisoned by the two other great powers of existence, what you know as Good and Evil, so that I could not be a threat to both. But now you have freed me, so when The Time is Right I will exact my revenge.” “What will you do with us?” asked a weeping Speaker of The House. “For now,” said the voice. “You are useful to me alive. But, you will all bare my mark, and whenever I use it to summon you, you would be well advised not to keep me waiting. You will know when I need you, but for now you may go. But keep silent about this encounter if you want to live, and continue to be those who Worship Gold for the same reason. You may go. For now.” One by one, they filed out, horrified by, although still not totally comprehending, what they had done, and what it almost if not certainly would mean for their futures.

THE PENDULUM SWINGS DUE QUEER

THE PENDULUM SWINGS DUE QUEER BY MATTHEW LUCAS BECKETT Sandra and Sara watched as President Frag's right hand put the final signature on The Marriage Readjustment Act, legalizing Gay Marriage throughout the entire country. “YES!” shouted Sara, jumping to her feet. “Take that, Homophobes!” Her sister Joyce and brother-in-law Troy, sitting on the couch next to the two of them, were less excited. But even their expressions couldn't match the maroon color of Conser Votive Omoplohf's face. “And with that signature,” he said through clenched teeth. “President Fag, I mean, Frag, ends marriage as we know it. This country is literally going to Hell in a Hand Basket. And I will not be part of it. Bad Bye. I'll see you all in Hell.” Then he puled a gun out from under his desk, put it to his head and pulled the trigger. All four gasped. They had chosen to watch the event on this channel because they wanted to see his reaction, but none of them had expected quite this strong a reaction. “Of course,” said Troy. “None of us were expecting quite such a sweeping bill. Don't get me wrong, Sara. . .” he quickly added as his sister-in-law started to speak. “I've always supported you and Sandra's right to marry, I just didn't expect it to come accompanied by the termination of Joyce and my marriage.” For The Marriage Readjustment Act redefined marriage as exclusively between two man or two women. “I sympathize,” Sandra offered. “But maybe in a few years, the pendulum will return to center and there can just be equality. On the other hand, we've been denied for seven years, so, obviously not you two, but the larger heterosexual community can get a taste of what it's like not to be. . .” Troy nodded. “I understand, Sandra, there's no need to explain.” He turned to Joyce. “I love you very much, but since we'll now be living in sin anyway, as our marriage has just been invalidated. Well, to be perfectly honest, there's a part of me that's always had a thing for your brother Frank. . .” “Troy,” said Joyce. “I understand. I've known from the first time we made love that your heart, more to the point your hormones, weren't really in it. I was just the closest you could get to him under the old system, and I know you've had a crush on him since High School. Go be with him. Our marriage was always more of a friendship than a romance anyway.” Ten seconds later, Troy was gone. Shocked by how suddenly this had happened, even though she'd kind always known that it was really Frank, too, Sara turned to her sister. “What will you do now, Joyce?” she asked. Joyce thought a moment. “If it's all right, I'll stay with you for a few days. You'll be planning a wedding soon, and that is what I do.” “Of course,”said Sara, after looking to Sandra and getting a heart felt nod from her. Then she went to a drawer, pulled out a small box and got on one knee in front of Sandra. “Sandra Davidson Elia, Sammy, will you marry me?” “Yes, I will, Sara Hearthstone Loveall,” Sammy replied. “When we're ready, we can adopt children, or go through some kind of artificial insemination.” “Yes,” said Sara. “But that's YEARS away. For now, let's just focus on the moment at hand.” “Agreed,” said Sammy. Joyce nodded her agreement also, she and Troy had obviously never had children either. Then the three of them started planning a wedding.