He awakes amidst the barren wasteland once called Minneapolis and looks up at the ashen gray sky above, still so saturated with the smoky remnants of its once glorious abundance and the sun remains held in captivity behind that impenetrable wall comprised of man’s failures.
He longs to go and see The Orange Man who might have saved the city from destruction. He hears the tales of The Orange Man and how he will grant eternal life and prosperity to those who seek him. He knows The Orange Man’s promises aren’t empty because his father has promised him that we can trust The Orange Man and he never questions his father.
He climbs out of his makeshift refuge, a large, red orb seemingly once attached to an oversized re-creation of an object that the elders say was used to feed bullshit into the mouths of who they called “Republicans”, which still sits in the midst of a now thoroughly polluted bog. He dons a mask and takes his first breath of the wasted and polluted morning air and sets his eyes on the smoldering remains of a tall orange building off in the distance, a place that he suspects may be home to The Orange Man himself. He sets out on his journey into the devastated city and hops over limbs separated from their bodies.
The landscape is strewn with the severed body parts of men who would have survived had they only remembered to bring their AR-15s in defense of their city. Instead they were slaughtered en masse by the unruly mob that broke their fingers and ripped their arms from their sockets and beat them with the severed limbs until blood spilled from their noses and the violence surely would have stopped had they only remembered to bring their AR-15s. Their blood still trickles down the city streets and drips into the sewage system where it blends with the chaotic miasma of a failed state.
He walks by the remains of the massive arena where his father tells him a life-sized ant was known to devour men whole and shit them out of his posterior. He sees the other large open-air arena nearby, a place that his father tells him was once a monument to the failures of men in the years of our lord 2006 through 2020 and reverberates still with a sound that can only describe a day that is green and the remnants of a pumpkin destroyed while exhibiting a toxic and unpleasant odor. Ash blows by his face and he remembers how his father told him that the ashes are the remains of the currency of man that his father tells him the people calling themselves “Democrats” once collected and burned in its entirety and unleashed ashes all across the city. He breathes through his mask and is grateful for its protection from the ash and is grateful also that his father is no longer here to harass him about wearing what he often referred to as a “face diaper”.
He enters the massive but smoldering orange building where surely he will find The Orange Man and be at last blessed with unfathomable riches and untold power and respect and is surprised to find that the building is locked and he picks up a bronze arm precariously attached to a hat and begins to smash the glass on the entrance door and the glass splinters and eventually shatters and he steps into the dark but ornate orange building and looks off into the distance and sees the name Wells Fargo. He runs up the staircase in a frantic attempt to locate The Orange Man and seek redemption and he finds a nearby stairwell and rushes with utmost haste up the steps and takes two, then three steps at a time upwards into the tower and refuses to stop and catch his breath until he at last finds the legendary man himself.
His mind dazzles with the promises of The Orange Man and how it included the eradication of the brown man who did not pat his head and rub his belly when he entered the country and the full obsequity of women and the renewed criminality of their cat ownership and their life ownership and their audacity to choose not to have children. His mind was swimming with possibilities when at last he opened the door at the top of the gleaming tower.
He found it empty. Barren. Only a single piece of paper lay in the center of the room and he picked it up and he read the words aloud.
“But her e-mails….”
submitted by /u/Nillavuh
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