Sunday, May 29, 2011

Cowboys in Gayville

Jeb and Zeek shifted uncomfortably in the trash compacter the authorities called an APC (or Aerospace People Carrier) although Jeb and Zeek damn well knew a fucking horse trailer when they saw it. This was a goddamn horse trailer.

Jeb and Zeek were traveling about 69000 kilometers an hour to the space colony named "47", but more infamously known as "Gayville". Jeb and Zeek didn't know why they were on this APC. To be honest, the last week has been a real blur.

Jeb and Zeek were picked up by the authorities last week when they were out in the woods. Jeb and Zeek pleaded that what the authorities saw wasn't what it seemed. It wasn't. But they were put in quarentine anyway, then on this APC.

Jeb whispered to Zeek "I think that fag is staring at me, I oughta kick his ass". Zeek grabbed Jeb's arm and whispered back "We've gotta keep cool, Jeb. We'll have to play along as to not draw no attention to ourselves."
"Whatchu mean, play along?"
"Y'know, pretend we're fags too."
"I aint no fag!" Jeb said a little too loud, as if the cowboy garb they were wearing wasn't drawing enough attention to themselves.
The vaguely feminine looking man in the aeropostle shirt sitting across the walk space from Jeb breathed through his lips and rolled his eyes.
"Hey, queer! You got a problem?" Jeb shouted, getting everyone's attention.
"Hey, Jeb! You need to calm down! This is the only place we've got now. Just play it cool until we find a way to get out." Zeek stressed out through his teeth. Trying to keep his voice low, even though everyone in the sardine can were paying close attention.
"I'm sorry to break it to ya, but there aint no way out" Said the queer in the Aeropostle shirt in a mocking southern accent. "And for your information, you bigots are the fags here"

When the APC landed they saw a large metropolis in front of them. Space colony 36, where Jeb and Zeek where born and raised, was a much larger and sparsely populated colony then 47. Jeb and Zeek came from rich families who could afford to live the privileged and old fashioned southern lifestyle of earth in space; open tracks of land, plantations, ranches and farmland. What Jeb and Zeek saw here intimidated them; 3000 feet buildings, millions of people walking about there business in the hundreds of spaceport overpasses and underpasses all within sight. Jeb and Zeek stood dumbfounded for several minutes, mouths agape. They'd never seen so many people, heard so much noise and seen so many lights in their lives. Then they heard a voice.

"You cowboys looking for something?" A rather butch lesbian, sporting a Mohawk and tartan, skintight pants asked Jeb and Zeek.
"We want to get back to Colony 36" Zeek offered. Jeb was aghast; he's never seen a woman look like that.
"HaHaHaHa" The lesbian laughed heartily, her shrunken chest bobbing up and down. "You ain't ever goin' back to 36" Said the lesbian said in a more noticable southern accent. One the cowboys would recognize.
"You're from 36?" Jeb asked, with a bizarre mix of incredulity and hometown pride.
"Fear god, fear the flag" The lesbian said, reciting the colony motto. "Yep, born and raised. Got kicked out age 13, caught me kissing my step sis. Once you get sent off on the gay love boat, they never let you back."

Jeb sunk to his knees. It finally sunk in. He was never going back home. He heard things about 47 from his Sunday school teacher. That it was full of heathens, sinners, the unclean. That they were evil, and to be feared and despised by country church folk as themselves. He heard stories on the playground that they ship in straight men from all over the universe just to be slaves to rich gay men. That if they ever knew he was straight, they'd rape him, then sell him into slavery.

Jeb and Zeek wandered the streets neighboring the spaceport, saddened and confused until an artificial night fell. As the artificial sun at the center of the colony dimmed, the people of 47 began to disperse either home or to bars littering every other city block. That's when Jeb and Zeek, conspicuous as all get out, saw a police car. The Cowboys ran as fast as they could away from the police car. Jeb and Zeek kept running what must have been a mile down the road, never looking back to see whether or not the cop was making chase. Whether or not there was more cops coming. Coming to come inside Jeb and Zeek.

Jeb and Zeek finally ran into an alleyway outside a closed french restaurant. They breathed heavier and heavier until they both came to tears.

"I'm not a fag! I'm not meant to be here!" Jeb cried, leaning against a wall.
Zeek was bent over, hands on knees, was still trying to catch his breath.
"I'm not a fag!" Zeek sobbed louder.
Zeek stood straight up and looked at Jeb.
"I'm not a fag" Jeb crying softer.
Zeek held Jeb in his arms and kissed his neck.
"I'm not a fag..." Jeb cryed softly, barely even making a noise
"Shush" Zeek said, quietly in Jeb's ear
"I'm not a fag..." Jeb mouthed silently, staring straight ahead, seeing nothing.
"It's okay Jeb, it's okay. We're home now" Zeek whispered reassuring in his ear. "Now take off your jeans, honey"
Jeb sniffed and smiled, "This sorta behavior got us 'ere in the first place, babe." he laughed as he worked off his large belt buckle.
"Shut up and lemme blow you" Zeek smirked, licking his lips and forcing jebs pants all the down to his cowboy boots.

The belt buckle read "Fear God, Fear the Flag"

Awwwwww, how sweet.
Big Mike.


  1. LOL I admit, didn't see that one coming. How silly of me.

  2. Haha, wonderful ending.