[X] My Assistant

[Yaoi Huntress Earth]

I decided on what the heck and to do this "political, religious, erotic fantasy". Since it's laughably bad (milage may vary), the chapters are short and written by a 50-something who makes Ron Paul look sane, I decided to have a whack at it.


Chapter 1: The Traffic Cop

On a clear, sunny Saturday afternoon, people were sitting on their front porches on Elm Street when the traffic stop took place.

Oh Freddy Krueger did you steal another car and try to blame it on a black guy?

The brown station wagon stopped, then the police car. “Got a brake light out.” somebody pointed out.
“Yeah, sure enough.” people agreed. The driver put the car in park, released the brake and shut off the ignition.
Two cops emerged from the police car and walked forward, on either side of the station wagon. “Good afternoon. Let me see your license and registration.” demanded the one on the driver’s side. “Step out of the car.”

Cop: According to this you're elderly Asian woman named Mrs. Chong.

A 20-year-old Negro man emerged, wearing a black leather jacket. “Do you realize what we stopped you for?” the cop asked.
“Driving while black?” the driver guessed.
The other cop told a Negro woman on the passenger side, “Step out of the car, too.”
“What’s the matter?” she wondered.
“What have you got in your pocketbook?” the cop queried.

Her testosterone shots that will finally make her the man she knew she was deep-down inside.

“Well, personal belongings.” she said.
“Open it up.” the cop ordered.
“No, I will not.” she replied, shocked.
“Place your hands on the car.” the cop said.
“No I will not. I’m not under arrest. I know my constitutional rights!” she replied.

Is that the one that says we can't slaves anymore? God, I hate that one.

The cop grabbed her and pushed her against the car, taking her into a headlock.
Billy Americano ran down off the porch, behind the cop.

*busts up laughing* Let me guess, the author actually thinks we're supposed to take this guy seriously.

Using his left hand to unsnap the holster and his right hand to borrow the cop’s gun, he proceeded to settle the matter out of court. One blast later, the cop fell. Time was of the essence, as the other cop would soon be able to understand and react. Billy dashed around the rear of the station wagon, emerging to see the driver and the other cop struggling over the control of the arm with which that cop had drawn his own gun. Billy fired another two shots, striking the cop in the hips, below the bullet-resistant vest. Billy confiscated that cop’s gun. Then he walked over to the passenger side, and, quoting from the Fourth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution, called out, “Ladies and gentlemen, let this be a lesson to every cop in the United States of America. The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers and effects against unreasonable searches and seizures,…”
He pointed the gun down at the cop’s head as the cop struggled to try to get up. Then he continued, “…shall…” Blam!

"Fourscore and seven years ago..." BANG! "Our forefathers..." BAM!

The cop fell, limp, as Billy continued, “…not…” Blam! another shot in the head. “…be…” Blam! “…violated.” Blam! A final shot pierced the cop’s head.
Billy knew it would only be seconds before enemy officers would be swarming all over. He made a run for it, through a backyard and onto another street, then started walking away.

Which got his shot by the owner for trespassing.

It would be no use, of course, since witnesses would rat him out. He made it another block, then drew his cell phone as he sat down in a coffee shop, while police cruisers sped by. He knew the number. It was even on his speed dial. “Yes, there’s something I’d like to talk about. Are there calls ahead of me? No? Excellent!”

Sorry, but the Butt-Monkey Party Line will always come first.

A few seconds later he explained, on the air, “You know something, Steve? Today the Bill of Rights got enforced. Not just the one in the United States Constitution, but the one in the New Hampshire State Constitution. The cops crossed the line, and they paid the price. Right now, my neighbors are ratting me out, telling enemy officers which way I ran and all.

How dare they report a murder!

Someday, they may need a cop-killer, though. Steve, cop-killers are the only thing that stands between the government and total power to wipe out everybody’s rights. This is the only thing that’s ever going to work.”

Then why not start killing politicians and the big money that backs them?

The arrest was made in the blink of an eye. Billy was on the floor, cops holding him and handcuffing him.
In the cruiser, the arresting officer assured Billy, “You’re gonna get the death penalty for that.”
“Live free or die.” Billy answered.

[Nihilistic One]

Were this written by a person who had two brain cells to rub together, this would be about an insanely patriotic man slowly losing his grip on reality and how he sees the world after having lost it entirely.

Unfortunately, this was not written by somebody with that kinda intelligence or skill.

[Agnitio Ex Machina]

This is pathetic, the fiction, I mean. Cop shooting on a routine pull-over? Also apparently the "protagonist" has to be psychic to notice anything amiss. Essentially he shot the sheriff for shits and giggles.

[Screaming_Soulcatcher]

BILLY AMERICANO!

Oh boy, this thing is going to be a piece of work...

[Yaoi Huntress Earth]

Were this written by a person who had two brain cells to rub together, this would be about an insanely patriotic man slowly losing his grip on reality and how he sees the world after having lost it entirely.

Unfortunately, this was not written by somebody with that kinda intelligence or skill.

That would make a much better story.

Chapter 2: Jail

Billy overheard the prisoners talking about stuff.

Prisoner: So who's your favorite pony? Mine's Fluttershy.

Other Prisoner: Fag.

It seems one guy had just survived a pre-dawn drug raid that morning, but he figured he had a pretty good idea who informed on him.
“Got a question for you.”

Billy: Is Santa Claus real or is that just some sick joke by my parents?

Billy mentioned. “Did the informant smash your window and throw in the flash grenade?”
“No, the cops did, of course.”
“Did the informant break down your door?” Billy asked.

After she found out that he never returned her Spice Girls album, yes.

“No, of course not. The cops did.” the prisoner replied.
“Did the informant pull your children out of bed and throw them against the wall?” Billy asked.
“No, the jerk that ratted on me wasn’t even there.”
“Did the informant threaten you at gunpoint? Did the informant trash your apartment?

Were the cops acting like stereotypical jerks? (Yes, I know cops like that do exist.)

Did the informant steal your cocaine? Did the informant grab you, handcuff you, force you into a patrol car against your will and deliver you to the government’s jail? No. The cops did.”
“That’s their job, though!” he reasoned.
“Only because they chose to sign up. They chose to sign up when they knew, or should have known, that they would be instructed to grab innocent people, handcuff them, force them into patrol cars against their will and deliver them to the government’s jail.” Billy explained.

And get arrest warrants, investigate crime scenes and hang out with Elliot Stabler.

“Well,” another prisoner said, “if he was actually selling cocaine, which I’m not saying he was, then how could he be innocent? I mean, it’s against the law.”
“The law is clearly wrong. The government has no right to restrict what kinds of drugs people can use.”
“Hey, dude, I don’t know what your trip is, but cocaine can kill people.” another prisoner mentioned.
“Don’t like cocaine, don’t buy any. Some people want cocaine. Live free or die.

Why does this guy sound like that piss-ant kid from A Troll in Central Park? (Fast forward to 6:16)

And what’s the difference, whether you die of a cocaine overdose, or from alcohol poisoning because you drank too much? Either way, you die of a drug overdose.”
“But alcohol is legal.” said the drug raid survivor.
“And the government had no right to make cocaine illegal. Selling cocaine does not violate anybody’s rights.” Billy declared.

But is slowly kills it's customers due to the massive damage it does to one's body if you want to counter his argument.

“Ours is not to reason why. Ours is just to do or die.” said one prisoner.
“Well, thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to recite that little nursery rhyme.” Billy said. The drug raid survivor laughed.
“Well,” said the drug raid survivor, “what are the chances I’ll be able to find those cops?”

Just go to the local donut show and...God, that was too easy.

“You get out on bail, you can find a cop anywhere. That’s easy. Just remember, though, that you don’t want to kill any private rent-a-cops.” Billy answered.

They're part of The Market and the almighty Ayn Rand will come down and smite you.

“What? You mean, like just go out and kill any old cop?” he asked.
“Picture this.” Billy explained. “The Battle of Bunker Hill, in the Town of Charlestown, Massachusetts, just north of Boston, 17 June 1775. A lot of men from New Hampshire were there. The British regulars are advancing up Breed’s Hill and a Patriot, a survivor of the Battle of Concord, says, ‘Let me see if I can spot the same exact Redcoat who wounded me eight weeks ago. See if I can spot him from the crowd.’”
Everybody laughed. Billy explained, “Like, Earth to you, an enemy officer is an enemy officer. What happens if you make bail and then don’t show up in court?

You look like a jerk who can't read a schedule?

Every cop in the United States of America is looking for you. It’s the fault of every cop in the United States of America that you have to face the charges.

*points to video I just posted*

And if every cop in the United States of America is out to grab you, handcuff you, force you into a car and drive off with you, then you are clearly justified in killing every cop in the United States of America.”
“You’re justified in killing them when they’re only trying to arrest you?” one man wondered.
“Well, I suppose you could try to scare them away with a Boy Scout knife.” Billy suggested. Again, everybody laughed.

Then give them a big hug and admit your love for the one with the big handlebar mustache.

“Look, on 7 October 2003, two armed guys walked into Senator Judd Gregg’s second house, in McLean, Virginia.” Billy recounted. “They grabbed Mrs. Gregg, tied her up,

Shot her with their their giggle-ray and determined it to be a smashing success.

forced her into a car and drove off with her. They drove her to a bank and let her go inside when she agreed to withdraw ransom money and bring it to them. Obviously, if we could somehow put a gun in her hands, she’d be justified in shooting them.”
“Yeah, but that’s way different.” One guy added.
Billy said, “It is different. You’re right. Cops don’t usually tie up their hostages, they handcuff them. And cops don’t usually drive their hostages to the bank to withdraew ransom money. They let the hostages make one phone call and ask somebody to bring the ransom money. But no matter what the law says, you’re still one hundred percent justified defending somebody, including yourself.

*loads shotgun* Alright!

Look at slavery. Slavery was wrong, but it was legal, in many States, and it was not unconstitutional there. The law was wrong. Not, ‘We think the law is wrong.’ but ‘The law is wrong.’”
“Well, we have this thing called democracy. And there’s a way to get the law changed.” somebody shouted.
Billy answered, “Gang rape is democracy. Five say ‘yes,’ one says ‘no way!’ and the majority rules, electing one of themselves ‘sheriff’ to grab and handcuff the victim, and force the victim into the sheriff’s car, and drive the victim to where the will of the majority is to be carried out.

Billy: I'd rather live in fascist dictatorship and pray that he doesn't suck at it.

The victim had the right to vote, but fat lot of good that is, when you’re vastly outnumbered by people who don’t care about your rights. And the victim had the right to campaign, too, but like ‘Please don’t vote wrong! Pretty please!’ They’d get off on it.

Voter: Oh yes. Innocent people going to jail. Oh yeah, that's the spot. Ahhhhh....

But when voting and campaigning don’t work, killing the sheriff might work. If the majority doesn’t want the sheriff to die, they should have thought of that before they voted wrong. And if the sheriff didn’t want to die, the sheriff never should have agreed to pull a stunt like that. The point is, just because the majority votes, does not give them the right to violate the rights of everybody else. ”

Voting Wrong: Not doing what the speaking want, thus thwating his plan kidnap fat women and use their skins like a suit.

A man entered the jail area. “Hey, everybody, I’m with the Gideons. Our mission is to spread the word by distributing Bibles. They’re free of charge. Would you like one?”
The guys accepted the free books. “Something to read, anyway.” one of the men noted.

[Dystopian God]

Those last lines are sending warning signs off in my head.

[Yaoi Huntress Earth]

The religious stuff gets worse. I'm doing two because they're pretty short.

Chapter 3: Rescue

It was midnight and the prisoners were asleep. Billy woke up to find a pretty girl with blue eyes and straight blonde hair in his cell, patting him to wake him up. “What in the world?” he gasped. She took him by the arm and lifted him out of bed. “Woah.”

Lady: The government said "to Hell with it" and decided to execute you right now.

“I’m here to get you out, Billy. Get dressed. We must hurry.” she explained.
“Oh. You must be a lawyer.” he guessed. “They let you in, and then locked the cell door?” he puzzled. “You look kind of young to be a lawyer.

All the ones he's had are old, ugly and look like bulldogs in bad drag.

Are you a lawyer?”
“Not exactly. Follow me.” She pulled on the door and it slid open. “Come on.” She led him out.
“I guess I have nothing to lose.” He followed her out of the jail and through the police station.

The fact that no one wanted him to be their bitch hit him pretty hard.

Doors opened in front of them. Billy’s jaw dropped in total astonishment.
“Quick, let us go!” she said. She led him outside to a parked car, and opened the door for him. “Hop in.”
As he got in, and closed the door, she got in on the driver’s side.
“My name is Gabriela. I was sent here to get you out of jail.” the girl said.

Gabriela: Me and the Good Taste League are going to kill you ourselves.

As she drove away, he could hear an alarm in the background. By the end of the block, he could see the reflections of flashing blue police lights. Gabriela drove faster and faster until she ran a red light, narrowly missing a tractor trailer.
“Woah, that was close.” Billy noted.
“Don’t worry, we’re protected.”

It's a little thing called plot armor, the favorite tactic of Mary-Sue writers everywhere.

The car proceeded into a patch of dense fog. When it cleared, Billy looked down.
“Excuse me, but, like, I see the ground getting lower and lower. We’re like, um, flying.” Billy observed.
“Not to worry, we’ll be there soon enough.” she assured him.
“Um. I’m lost. At first, I thought you were a lawyer.” Billy asked.
“I am not a lawyer. I am an angel.”

Gabriela: And my message is, God hates you.

“Woah. Like, this gets better. But like, um, since when do angels come and spring prisoners out of jail?” he asked.
“Well, were you not visited by a servant, who presented to you the holy scriptures?” she asked.
“Oh, you mean, like, that dude that was handing out the Bibles?” he realized. “You know him?”
“I have met his guardian angel. But you marvel, so I call upon you to read, in the Acts of the Apostles, in the twelfth chapter, start at the sixth verse.”

Billy: Uh, "The fat that covereth the inwards ... the two kidneys ... and the caul above the liver ... burn them upon the altar; it is the food of the offering made by fire for a sweet savor." Man, what Hell am I reading?

Billy opened the Bible and consulted the verse, reading to her:
“And when Herod would have brought him forth, the same night Peter was sleeping between two soldiers, bound with two chains:

And who says the bible is anti-gay or I'm reading too much into this?

and the keepers before the door kept the prison. And, behold, the angel of the Lord came upon him, and a light shined in the prison: and he smote Peter on the side, and raised him up, saying, Arise up quickly. And his chains fell off from his hands. And the angel said unto him, Gird thyself, and bind on thy sandals. And so he did. And he saith unto him, Cast thy garment about thee, and follow me. And he went out, and followed him; and wist not that it was true which was done by the angel; but thought he saw a vision. When they were past the first and the second ward, they came unto the iron gate that leadeth unto the city; which opened to them of his own accord: and they went out, and passed on through one street; and forthwith the angel departed from him. And when Peter was come to himself, he said, Now I know of a surety, that the LORD hath sent his angel, and hath delivered me out of the hand of Herod, and from all the expectation of the people of the Jews.”
“So your question is answered, is it not?” she asked.

Not in the slightest.

“Well, yeah. It’s not like I have to take your word for it. I’m reading it right here. Just what happened to me, except for the part where the angel ditches the guy.” he noted.
Gabriela said, “That is important to check. You are doing the right thing to verify it, as it is also written in the Acts of the Apostles, in the seventeenth chapter, and the eleventh verse, where the Bereans are described.”
“Um, wait a second. Let me read that with you. Verse eleven? Got it.”
Billy read silently as Gabriela recited from memory, “These were more noble than those in Thessalonica, in that they received the word with all readiness of mind, and searched the scriptures daily, whether those things were so.”

And useth the bible to justify their own crazy beliefs.


Chapter 4: Rio
Billy watched through the windows as the car started descending. Gabriela explained, “We have been flying for a few hours now. This was planned so you could have time to accept and understand what was happening. It would have blown your mind to go faster. We’re arriving in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.”
“Cool. Because there’s no extradition treaty?” he asked.
“No.

It's easier to hide the bodies.

I just need you to trust me and do as I say.” she told him.
“I guess I have nothing to lose.” he replied.
The car descended into clouds. Then it touched down on a city street, in dense fog. “We have to take off and land in dense fog so people won’t see us and flip out.” Gabriela told him. Then she continued, “Here’s the problem. We have no money. Take this fishing rod. We will stop by the riverside.” Gabriela said.
“Going fishing? Cool!” Billy said.

Ok, who replaced Mr. Crazy with an easily-amused kid?

“Check the Gospel of Matthew, the seventeenth chapter, the twenty-seventh verse.” Gabriela instructed him.
Billy read it to her, “Notwithstanding, lest we should offend them, go thou to the sea, and cast an hook, and take up the fish that first cometh up; and when thou hast opened his mouth, thou shalt find a piece of money: that take, and give unto them for me and thee.”
“I think I catch your drift.” Billy told her. He cast and brought up a rainbow trout, opening its mouth. “Check it out! A Canadian gold maple leaf, one troy ounce of gold.” he noted.
“Bring it. I will show you where the gold dealer is.” Gabriela said.

He won't understand a single word you say.

They walked through the city streets and arrived at the kiosk where a man was standing behind a table.
“Cuanto vale ista moeda?” Billy asked.
“Mil duzentos reais.” he replied.
“Muito bõa.” Billy accepted.
The dealer counted out 1,200 Brazilian reals.
“Obrigado.” Billy said, taking the cash. They walked to an inn, where Billy rented a room. The innkeeper showed them to the room and gave Billy the key.
“So I guess this is where I’m gonna be staying now?” he asked.

*starts dialing the US government* Not for long you won't.

“We,” she corrected him. “If you don’t mind sharing the room.”
“Oh, I do not mind!” he assured her. They sat down inside. Then it hit him. “Um, wait a second. Back at the coin dealer, like, I spoke to the dude in Portuguese. I never studied Portuguese. And when I rented the room, I spoke to the clerk in Portuguese.”
“Again, it is in the Acts of the Apostles, in the second chapter, start at the seventh verse.” Gabriela explained.

If you close your eyes, believe and with a tiny pinch of magic, all your dreams will come true.

Billy read silently as Gabriela recited from memory, “And they were all amazed and marvelled, saying one to another, Behold, are not all these which speak Galilaeans? And how hear we every man in our own tongue, wherein we were born? Parthians, and Medes, and Elamites, and the dwellers in Mesopotamia, and in Judaea, and Cappadocia, in Pontus, and Asia, Phrygia, and Pamphylia, in Egypt, and in the parts of Libya about Cyrene, and strangers of Rome, Jews and proselytes, Cretes and Arabians, we do hear them speak in our tongues the wonderful works of God.”
“So, does this answer your uncertainty?” Gabriela asked.
“Yes. I guess this all happened for a reason.” he replied. He looked at her briefly, then looked away again.

Billy: I've never talked to a woman that didn't need to be inflated.

“So, this may be overwhelming to you. You seem to be deep in thought.” she said. He looked at her again, then looked away.
“Yes.”
“Are you contemplating what has happened?” she asked. Again, he looked at her face, then looked away.
“Well, not exactly.” he replied.
“Might I ask, what are you thinking? Tell me your thoughts.” she said.
“Well, I can’t, really. It’s….” he stopped. He looked at her again. Then he looked away.

Billy: I just realized that I'm not enough of a jerk.

“It is what? You may tell me.” Gabriela assured him.
“Let me think about how to turn my thought into words, and words that I can say to you.” he requested. He took a deep breath, then admitted, “You ask what are my thoughts. Please don’t be offended when I answer you. I am, after all, a guy. And, after all, there is one thing a guy is always thinking about.

Ponies?

Like, just because an angel comes and springs him from jail and whisks him to Brazil, doesn’t mean he stops thinking about it. I’m, well, imagining that I’m running my hands all over your body. Like, rest assured, I’m only imagining. I don’t mean to show you disrespect, but you asked.”
“Let me tell you something. In Heaven, we do not admire a man because he is a famous singer or a star baseball player.

Gabriela: We like our men angry, bitter and whiny.

We admire a man because of his character. You showed that, on Elm Street, where you bravely risked your life to fight back. I admire you for that. There were many angel girls who admired you for that.

The cops didn't even attack or show any force towards him until he attacked them.

When the casting call was announced, I competed against a large number of them, for the honor. Your guardian angel selected me. I am quite fortunate to enjoy your company.” Gabriela explained. “You are a good man.”

*laughs ass off* Wait til you see the last third or so of this story.

Billy smiled. “I think I like what I hear. You know, I hope you don’t mind my saying this, but, you have a beautiful body.” he told her.
“I do not object to your saying that. I am flattered. I just acquired this body last night.” she told him.
Billy took her left hand in his right hand and held it. His heart was pounding harder and harder. “You are beautiful. You are a real heart-stopper.” Then he started talking more softly. “Listen, here’s the deal. Don’t let me get you angry at me. Stop me if you want.” He started running his hands over her shoulders and her arms. She flashed him a big, wide smile. Then he took her in his arms and kissed her. She kissed back. He held her and kissed her again, and again and again. They French kissed. He had told her that she could stop him if she wanted, but she didn’t want him to stop, so he didn’t.

I'm wondering how old Billy is. He's got to be over 18...

[Newandimprovednobody]

This...is a troll fiction, right?

[Yaoi Huntress Earth]

Sorry, it's not. The creator is pretty sincere.

[Newandimprovednobody]

This was written from an insane asylum, right?

[Yaoi Huntress Earth]

I wish.

CHAPTER FIVE: RETURN

It was about four o’clock in the morning. Billy and Gabriela were sitting around, watching television. “Kind of boring, really.” Billy said. “I mean, local shows, and they’re all in Portuguese.”
“Would you like to watch New Hampshire stations?” Gabriela asked.
“I don’t think any New Hampshire stations are available here.”

Besides, who wants to watch the Alex Jones Dead Baby Obsession Channel?

Then he looked at Gabriela. “Oh, yeah, that’s right. I forgot. You’re here.”
“Actually, that is quite understandable.” Gabriela assured him. “Take a look in the Gospel of Matthew, in the sixteenth chapter, starting at the seventh verse.”
Billy opened the tome and silently read while Gabriela recited from memory:

"Yet she became more promiscuous as she recalled the days of her youth, when she was a prostitute in Egypt. There she lusted after her lovers whose genitals were like those of donkeys and whose emissions were like that of horses."

“And they reasoned among themselves, saying, It is because we have taken no bread. Which when Jesus perceived, he said unto them,

Jesus: Where the white women at? (I knew he was a brotha. I knew it! I knew it!)

O ye of little faith, why reason ye among yourselves, because ye have brought no bread? Do ye not yet understand, neither remember the five loaves of the five thousand, and how many baskets ye took up? Neither the seven loaves of the four thousand, and how many baskets ye took up? How is it that ye do not understand that I spake it not to you concerning bread, that ye should beware of the leaven of the Pharisees and of the Sadducees?”
“The apostles realized that they had failed to take bread with them,” Gabriela explained, “They suddenly got worried. They needed to be reminded.”
The New Hampshire news came on. The escape of Billy Americano, and the massive manhunt underway, were the big stories. A reporter was interviewing a state trooper. “Should people be concerned that this man might attack more officers?” the reporter asked.
“Talk about a biased reporter!” Billy said. “People should be a lot more concerned about what happens if cops don’t get killed.

Wouldn't that be biased as well?

Take a tour of the Holocaust Museum.”

I did that once. I got a passport that chronicled the life of a 50-something Jewish woman that I could read along as I toured the place (they gave you random ones of different people). Although she died in the camps (I think Bergen Belson), it was a fascinating experience...Oh wait, we're talking about Mr. Crazy-Man here.

“Imagine the outrage the reporter would face if she dared to point out how obviously right you were, Billy. She’s definitely required to pretend to think you were in the wrong, and to pretend that everybody feels the same way. It’s psychological warfare, making people think that anybody who supports liberty is insane.” Gabriela noted.

Amazing how she can still talk properly while having her lips so firmly placed against Billy's ass.

“You know, I’ve never thought of it that way.” Billy admitted.
“Would you like to tell them your side of the story?” she asked.
“Well, I sure would. But how?” Billy replied.

Get a reality show on MTV?

“Let us go to that studio.” she suggested.
“What? That would be suicide!” Billy said.
“Oh ye of little faith!” Gabriela joked.
Billy took Gabriela’s left hand in his right. “Forgive me if I’m a little nervous about this.” he said.

Not having a gun, having the advantage of surprise or being protected behind bars makes everything so much harder.

“Absolutely.” She smiled and held his hand tightly. “Let us get in the car.”
“Well, of course I’m scared, but when I think about it logically, I know I must be doing the right thing.” Billy decided.
Gabriela drove down the street and turned left. A few blocks later, she turned right. Then Billy saw the patch of dense fog and knew they were about to take off.
Rio de Janeiro got smaller and smaller down below. “We want to get to the studio during the newscast. We don’t have much time.” Gabriela said. “So this journey will be much shorter in duration.”
“Wow! We’re here now!” Billy noted. They drove out of the patch of dense New Hampshire fog and, a block later, arrived at the television station.
Billy and Gabriela went to the door and entered the lobby. “I wish to speak on your news program. I’m Billy Americano.” The receptionist recognized him from the pictures that were all over the news. She pressed a button.

But that took a good five minutes before her laughter died down.

“News room.” somebody replied.
“Billy Americano is here. Can you interview him?” the receptionist asked.
There was a pause. Then the news director replied. “Send him in.”
“Well, much to our surprise, Billy Americano is here in our studio. Billy, what brings you here?” the woman who was on the air said.

Ok everyone, let's read his replies in the Superman-Prime voice.

“I just needed to point out to everybody, that no matter how obviously the cop is in the wrong, no matter how obviously the cop-killer is in the right, you as a reporter are still required to pretend you think everybody agrees that the cop-killer is some kind of villain.

Billy: Duh, what is the sanctity of human life?

You would be out of a job immediately if dared to hint that people have a constitutional right to be secure against unreasonable searches and seizures.” Billy explained.
“Well,” the reporter said, “you realize that the U.S. Supreme Court has ruled that the police officer has the right to search a passenger’s pocketbook if there’s probable cause to stop a vehicle, right?”
Billy replied, “People who have a mind of their own and who can think for themselves can and will determine what is an unreasonable search and seizure. Allowing government-appointed judges in government-run courts to make all the decisions is to turn off our own brains.

People do pick their leaders and there are rules that they vote on.

The cop clearly crossed the line, big time, and paid the price. The Bill of Rights never got through that cop’s head, but bullets did.”
“So don’t you have any respect at all for the rule of law?” the reporter asked, putting on a stunned tone of voice.
“If you want respect for the law, make the law respectable.” Billy declared.

Why is it even if that line makes a point, I still want to argue with him?

“The reasoning behind the court’s ruling was that the passenger might have a gun in her pocketbook. But, gee, we’d never catch cops carrying guns, now would we? Talk about hypocrisy! Furthermore, people have a constitutional right to keep and bear arms. Furthermore, let’s say you’re walking down Elm Street and some pedestrian happens to be walking the other way. How do you know they don’t have a gun?

Because it's really hard to smuggle a gun up your ass without it getting stuck in there.

How do you know they aren’t going to pull out a gun and shoot you?

Given that they aren't you...

Do you have the right to frisk everybody that might have a gun? Of course not! And neither does the cop. Also, what if the cop tries to arrest the driver under some unjust law?

Like running over blind children.

That’s exactly the reason behind constitutionally protecting the right to keep and bear arms. The Second Amendment was not written for sportsmen. The passenger was entitled to keep and bear arms in case the cop tries to arrest the driver. She could use the gun to preserve, protect, and defend the constitutional liberty of the people of New Hampshire.” Billy explained.
“Are you suggesting that if an officer is arresting somebody, and you don’t like the law, that gives you the right to shoot the officer?” the reporter asked, again hamming up the startled look and voice.
“Not at all.

Then what was all that bitching about how you have the right to kill officers who try to take you if you skip court?

It’s a question of whether the government has a right to impose that law.” Billy maintained.
“So then, if an officer is arresting somebody, and you determine the government has no right to impose that law, that gives you the right to shoot the officer?” she queried.
“No, it’s not a matter of what I determine. It is a matter of what is actually correct. Just because Abolitionists thought slavery was wrong, didn’t give them any right to march onto plantations and emancipate slaves. What matters is that slavery actually is wrong. That is why armed resistance would be justified.

Underground railroads are for pussies!

Slavery went on for too many decades, and could have been settled much sooner, by a small percentage of the population going about exterminating slave patrols, marching onto plantations, freeing the slaves.” Billy said.
“So, it’s not a matter of whether I think the law is wrong, but a matter of whether the law is actually wrong.” Billy explained.
“So then, who is going to decide what laws are wrong?” she asked.
“You can, if you want, and then you can tell everybody what you determine, and the line of reasoning by which you arrive at that determination.” Billy answered.
“Oh, I’m going to decide?” she replied.
“It’s called freedom of speech. Ever heard of it? But you have to meet some rigid qualifications.

Like have the mentality of an angry, psychologically-scarred teen despite being old enough to father one.

You have to have a mind of your own, and be able to think for yourself.” Billy said sarcastically. “Of course, you can always take a tour of the Holocaust Museum and see where this country is headed if people don’t fight back.

Last time I checked the government wasn't preaching a master race and wanting to gas Adam Sandler.

The real reason the cop wanted to search the pocketbook was to see if she had drugs, which the government clearly has no right to restrict. It’s her body and her life. If you don’t like certain drugs, don’t buy any. But if people vote to use their police force as a weapon by which to attack innocent drug addicts or their suppliers,

*puts on devil horns* Devil's advocate time. I think I'll go with the...a number of hardcore drug addicts do turn to crime to support their habits, thus hurting others and taking their property.

I’m not the one resorting to violence if all I do is take the weapon away from them. Those voters are not pulling the trigger, but they’re pulling the lever.” Billy explained.
“So you’re saying that the government has no right to impose drug laws. I’m sure you realize that a lot of people feel differently.” the reporter said.
“So what?” Billy asked.
“Well, you have your opinion, but they also have theirs.” she said.
“Ah, yes, the ‘all opinions are equally valid’ absurdity.

Billy: And mine's the only one that matters, dammit!

There were the opinions of the Abolitionists, and the opinions of the racist slave drivers. Both were entitled to their opinion, but being entitled to an opinion does not make that opinion correct. What makes the opinion of the Abolitionists correct was that it was consistent with liberty and justice for all. What makes the contrary opinion incorrect was that it was inconsistent with liberty and justice for all.” Billy explained.
“This would be a good time for folks to draw the line. Waiting for the government to be good and ready to restore liberty is absurd. That is the doctrine of nonresistance against arbitrary power, and oppression, which the New Hampshire state constitution, in Part the First, Article 10, says is absurd, slavish, and destructive of the good and happiness of mankind.” Billy said.
“If Freedom Fighters could put the State government on notice that they’re going to kill ten cops every night until the state government calls of the War on Drugs and releases all the P.O.W.’s, the State government would have full control over how many cops the Freedom Fighters would exterminate.” Billy said.

Come on, Billy, throw a tantrum on the floor while you're at it. We all know you want to do it and it would be funny as heck.

“And how is that?” she asked.
“Well, they decide how many cops they want the Freedom Fighters to exterminate, divide by ten, count off that many days on the calendar, and that’s what day to comply with their demands. Right now, they figure our demands are just a big, funny joke, but they’ll stop laughing when they have to pay the price for their noncompliance.” Billy declared.
“Just what do you mean, when you speak of paying the price for noncompliance?” the reporter asked.
“Well, a lot of people act as if the speed limits are just a big, funny joke. They stop laughing when they get ticketed, and have to pay the price with money for their wrongdoing. Well, a lot of voters and lawmakers think our demands are a big, funny joke, too, but not when people fight back and they have to pay the price with cops’ blood for their wrongdoing. Drive too fast, pay with cash. Vote wrong, pay with cops’ blood. It’s called deterrence.” Billy said.

Billy: And I'm too lazy to look up all the people who "voted wrong" and kill them instead.

“You call it deterrence. Others would call it terrorism.” the reporter challenged him.
“Actually, deterrence and terrorism are essentially the same thing, with the T-E-R coming from the Latin, which means,

No one gives a fuck.

to frighten. Whether it’s terrorism or deterrence depends on whether it is justified or not. Anyway, I can see out the window, that we don’t have much time left. Let me just finish up quickly by pointing out that our side has certain advantages.

Only two people want to help them and neither can shoot straight.

First, the enemy never knows who will strike, nor when, nor where, nor how, and there are a lot of ways to take out a cop. Second, every time somebody deprives the government of a cop, the enemy’s dispatcher responds by sending the Freedom Fighter more targets. Third, our side cannot surrender, because nobody on our side has any authority to order anybody else on our side to surrender. Unlike when Lee surrendered to Grant and ordered the entire Army of Northern Virginia to surrender with him. So,” Billy looked at the camera, “the time has come. Until the government calls off the War on Drugs and releases all the P.O.W.’s, cops are in season.

So does this include violent drug lords that have other crimes under their belt?

The important thing to remember is that the resistance will not be organized, because the enemy can infiltrate and destroy any such organization, but the enemy cannot fight back against people making random attacks against the enemy’s officers, especially people who are willing to make the supreme sacrifice to restore liberty. As Patrick Henry told John Robinson, Speaker of the Virginia House of Burgesses, on 29 May 1765, ‘If this be treason, make the most of it.’”
Outside the building, swarms of police were assembled and were planning to enter. Gabriela took Billy by the hand and led him, pushing her way past the cops. As they ran toward the car, cops gave chase. Once boarded in the car, they sped on. Police cars in their way moved backwards and a path cleared. “About three blocks to the patch of dense fog.” Gabriela said.

Ok, that annoying task is done; 12 more chapters to go. So who wants to joining me in getting some brain bleach in the form of looking at pictures of male cops smooching? Oh come on! I can't be the only one. I am? Oh boy, this is embarrassing.

[Howlitzer]

Billy answered, “Gang rape is democracy.

[Newandimprovednobody]

I want to argue with this logic so badly but I can't. This is the kind of logic that's so stupid there's just no arguing with it.

You know what the people deciding what laws are just and what laws they should and shouldn't follow would mean? Anarchy. It's fucking anarchy, people doing whatever the hell they feel like and killing people for trying to enforce the law. Throw him into the kind of society he wants and get him addicted to cocaine, then let's see how awesome the whole "no government with any kind of power and no restrictions on addictive drugs that do awful awful shit to people" idea is.

[TheSpaih]

I want to argue with this logic so badly but I can't. This is the kind of logic that's so stupid there's just no arguing with it.

You know what the people deciding what laws are just and what laws they should and shouldn't follow would mean? Anarchy. It's fucking anarchy, people doing whatever the hell they feel like and killing people for trying to enforce the law. Throw him into the kind of society he wants and get him addicted to cocaine, then let's see how awesome the whole "no government with any kind of power and no restrictions on addictive drugs that do awful awful shit to people" idea is.

I've noticed a pattern where the people who most want a "perfect" world without any form of law or order would be among the first few people to die horribly.

[MagicConch]

Hey, cool, a mock of a fanfiction based on something I love to hate : religious fanatics! Go on you bloody footwashers! Go tell us how to live our lives in a completely inefficient way, burn the whores you use both cotton AND polyester for clothing!

BTW I googled for a picture of two male cops smooching. For some reason, I got a lot of Banksy pics.

[Dystopian God]

... Is it sad that i can imagine various members of my family as billy without much difficulty?

[Agnitio Ex Machina]

Oh and I've forgotten to mention, people on death row get their own block and are hated by regular prisoners. Another of many story-killing flaws in this piece of shit.

[Bonglorio]

If this guy hates the idea of law and order so much that he's writing this shit, then why doesn't he just fuck off to Somalia?

No gummint, no cops, no drug laws. He'd love living there right up until a gang of fundamentalists rape him and mount his skull on a pike.

[Yaoi Huntress Earth]

... Is it sad that i can imagine various members of my family as billy without much difficulty?

You have my pity.

TheSpaih: My guess is that he'd be killed by a coke addict needing money for a quick fix.


Chapter 5

Billy saw clouds and open ocean below him.
“I have something to tell you.” Gabriela started.

Gabriela: This is all a cruel joke by God.

“You have been spared death. Furthermore, today you have shown great courage and faith. You will be rewarded.

With a trip to the gas chamber.

We will not be returning to Rio de Janeiro. We will be going to an island, a very special island.

Full of cannibal head-hunters and giant gorillas.

Nobody will bother us there. You will have everything you need. There will be no disease and no crime.”
“Are we going to Heaven?” Billy asked.
“No, it’s an island here on Earth, a small island, about one square kilometer. You will be the master of the island. We do not need to land in a patch of dense fog there.”

Gabriela: It's where we're going to put all the people who actually agree with you before we nuke the place.

“So, of all the people who have ever lived, I get to be the only one who never dies?” Billy asked.
“Oh, no.” Gabriela explained, “Check your holy scriptures, Billy. Check the Second Book of Kings, in the second chapter, the eleventh verse.”

"Mayonnaise is your God."

Billy found the verse and read it to Gabriela: “And it came to pass, as they still went on, and talked, that, behold, there appeared a chariot of fire, and horses of fire, and parted them both asunder; and Elijah went up by a whirlwind into heaven.”
Gabriela explained, “Elijah went to Heaven without dying. You are just receiving some of your reward without first dying.”
The car touched down on a grassy lawn in front of a large, dark-red, wooden house. “Let me show you around your new house.” Gabriela said, her voice elevated with excitement.
“You seem happy.” Billy observed.
“I am happy for you and I am proud of you. I am honored to be able to serve you.” she said.
Gabriela gave Billy a tour of the house. “And since this is your island, from now on, I will call you Master because I am here to serve you.” she said.

For now I have seen the true face of this story: a self-insert harem fic.

“That’s beautiful. You have been doing an excellent job of serving me already. How can I reward you?” he wondered.
“All I want is to be with you, and be happy with you. I have, well, a crush on you.” she answered.

Gabriela: My standards are lower than a limbo bar.

Billy gave her a hug and a long, French kiss. “You are beautiful.”
“Master, if it please you, I wish to lead you to the backyard.” she said.
Twenty cheerleaders were practicing on the back lawn. Billy and Gabriela took seats.
“Do you like this, Master?” Gabriela asked.
“Oooh, they look s-o-o pretty.” he said, his heart melting as he spoke. “And so young.”

Billy: They could pass for twelve.

“Actually, they are much, much older than you are, but they just acquired the bodies of teenagers today. I am much older than I look, too.” Gabriela explained. “Open the cooler if you’d like a cold beer.”

I made sure to pee in each and every bottle.

Billy opened the cooler and drew one beer for himself and another for Gabriela. He put his arm around her and pulled her close to him while he sipped the beer and watched the pretty cheerleaders perform.

Cheerleaders: No bareback. No bareback. Wrap it up, that's where it's at.

Billy finished his beer. “There’s more beer in the cooler if you want another.” Gabriela said. Billy looked at his empty beer bottle and considered it, but declined.
“They are finishing their performance.” Gabriela said. “Follow me.”
Gabriela led him to the basement door. “Looks like a locker room.” Billy noted.
“Yes, Master. Let us sit at the end here.” From that vantage point, Billy could see the fronts of twenty lockers.

Billy: I was stuffed in every single one of them in high school.

Soon, twenty cheerleaders marched into the room and opened their lockers. “Excuse me.” Billy spoke up. “You realize I’m in here?”
“Yes, Master, we know.” a few of them replied as they got out of their cheerleading uniforms. Billy’s heart started pounding faster and faster. One by one, they marched past him to the shower.
“Oooh, they are pretty.” he told Gabriela.
“Would you like to join them in the shower?” she offered.

Gabriela: They've been lobotomized to not care.

“They won’t mind?”

“Not at all. These are just some of the angel girls that have a crush on you. Your guardian angel picked them out. They want to make you happy.”

Guardian Angel: You got full blown AIDS?

Angel: Yes.

Guardian Angel: Then go ahead.

Billy removed his clothes and ventured into the shower room. “Hey, Master is here!” one of the cheerleaders said with a grin.
Billy walked up and started looking them over as they washed themselves in the shower. “At your service, Master.” one of them said.

Is anyone else getting images of that one Adam Sandler skit?

“At your service.” another said as he looked her over. Billy moved his hands forward, and opened them, spreading his fingers. “Go ahead.” she told him. “You may put your hands on me.”
“Oh yes, let us tell him this: When one of us says, ‘at your service,’ it means we are ready to please you however you wish.” another said.
Billy looked at the one he was touching, then looked at Gabriela, who smiled back at him. “Well, that’s very kind, but I don’t think Gabriela would like that.” he said.
“Oh, Master, I do not object.” Gabriela explained. “Angels are not like Earth girls, who can be possessive.

They want monogamy and the chance you won't give them a disease from some other skank? Those bitches!

Go ahead and enjoy other girls.”
“Sure, Master. We all have a crush on you.” another one said.

If crush means seething hatred, then yes.

Billy ran his hands over all twenty of them. Mostly, they just kept showering, saying “At your service.” when he put his hands on them.
One Oriental girl had straight black hair down her back. He held her and kissed her. His heart pounded faster and faster. “Listen, I’d like to spend some time with you.” he said.
Her face lit up with excitement. “Wonderful. Whatever pleases you, Master.” she replied. “My name is Michelle. Would you like me to dress first, or follow you naked?”
“Umm,” he thought about it and decided, “you might as well get dressed first.”
“As you wish, Master.” she said.
They went back into the locker room, where Michelle took a clean, dry towel. “If it pleases you, Master, you may dry us all off with our towels.” she told him.

Michelle: They're full of typhus and everything.

“That would be fun.” Billy replied.
“Listen, everybody, Master wants to dry us all off with our towels.” she said.
They lined up and waited their turns to get dried off. Gabriela was last. He dried her off, and kissed her.
“Oh, Master, I am so happy for you.” she said.
Everybody got dressed and Billy led Michelle into the living room to sit and chat. “I wish I could find words to tell you how pretty and beautiful you are.” he said.
“I just realized something.” Billy started. “I don’t have my glasses. But I can see perfectly. I didn’t have them in the shower, and I could see all you you girls perfectly.”

Repetitious dialogue is repetitious.

“Your body has been improved. There is no longer any visual impairment. You will suffer no disease, either. Nobody will be able to inflict any injury on you. You have also been endowed with more sexual power, so if you have sex, you can have sex again and again, as much as you want. You will not run out of energy.” she explained to him.

So it's like something you find on Literotica but you feel even filthier after reading it?

“Wow! Gabriela will like that.” he said. “And, like, there were nineteen more of you girls, too.”
Michelle started to explain. “Master, let me tell you a cute story, and you will understand. Once upon a time, there was a hotel, with an infinite number of rooms, all of which were reserved. A visitor walked in from the boardwalk and had no reservation, so the clerk was about to disappoint him and turn him away.

Boring!

The manager said ‘Wait. Just add the number one to every room reservation.’ So the guest for room one got room two, the guest for room two got room three, and so on, all the way up the number line. Now, room number one was vacant, so the guest got to reserve it. As the afternoon wore on, various finite numbers of guests arrived, without reservations, so the clerk just kept adding the number of guests to everybody’s room number. A billion people arrived, so he added one billion to everybody’s room number, thereby freeing the first one billion rooms. Then an infinite number of guests arrived, without reservations. He couldn’t figure out what to do, so he asked the manager. ‘Double eom one got roverybody’s room number.’ the manager said. So room two, room two got room four, room three got room six, room four got room eight, all the way up the number line. Now, all the odd-numbered rooms were vacant, and so he rented them out to the infinite number of guests.”
Billy puzzled over this for a moment. Michelle continued, “You see, Master, you have been spared death. You have an infinite amount of time to share with us. And we angel girls can skip time if we wish. So, whenever you want to spend time with Gabriela, you can. The time she cannot spend with you, she can skip as much of that as she wants. She loses nothing, because she always has eternity ahead of her. The same with the others. It is not as if they have to wait much time.”
“Well, what if she decides to skip a day, and I want her to be with me during that day? How will she know how much time to skip?” he asked.
“I suppose I could explain that to you, Master, but

Michelle: You're pretty dumb.

I fear you may not be ready for that yet.” Michelle said.
“I am kind of curious. Tell me, if you can do so without inflicting emotional harm on me.” he asked.
“Very well, then. You see, Master, we angels serve as messengers. We can travel from Heaven to Earth or to any other planet and to any time. But there is one place where we can meet, independently of time. So, to skip time, Gabriela can go there. You tell me, or any other angel, that you want Gabriela back. I can go to the meeting place, and tell Gabriela the time and place where you are waiting for her.

Billy: A woman having a life outside of me? I blame the government.

Then, as soon as I turn around, another angel girl will be telling me the time and place where you are waiting for me.” she said.
“In the mean time, is she seeing other men?” he wondered.
“Oh, not at all. She does not want to, because she can spend as much time as she wants with you. She will seek another man someday, when you two break up.” Michelle said.

There is hope in this world.

“Break up? I don’t want her and me to break up!” Billy gasped.
“Master,” she said, holding his hand. “Consider this. Do you know what ten, raised to the power of one hundred is?”
“That’s called a googol. That’s an incredibly large number.” he replied.
“And, ten raised to the power of a googol?” she asked.
“A googolplex. There’s like, not enough space to write the number out in the observable universe.” he stated.
“Just to boggle your mind for a moment, imagine a googolplex raised to the power of a googolplex, and that raised to the power of a googolplex, and so on, a googolplex times.

Math is hard.

Let us coin a name for that number and call it a googoltrog. Now, a googoltrog, raised to the power of a googoltrog, a googoltrog times, let us call that a googolblit.” she said.
“That’s the year the Chicago Cubs win the World Series?” Billy joked. Michelle laughed.
“That’s a very long, long time. Yet it is, literally, an infinitesimally small part of eternity. So do not fear that the day may come, when Gabriela and you break up, as you will have plenty of time together first.” she assured him.
Michelle continued, “Furthermore, you have a large number of admirers. When word gets out that you treat us kindly, I’m certain you will have many, many more. You enjoyed watching our cheerleading performance. Well, that was only a small number of us. You should never run out of angel girls.”
“Let me show you to the serve room.” Michelle said.

Michelle: This is where we torture all the Bronies by melting all their pony dolls.

“Gabriela showed me the serve room when she gave me a tour of the house. She did not explain this, though.” Billy said.
Michelle smiled and told him, “Well, Master, the serve room is especially appointed for girls to serve you. There is the elegant waterbed with satin sheets. In this corner is the mirror square. Note that the south wall and the west wall have mirrors running from the floor to the ceiling, precisely one and one-half meters wide, and meeting in the corner. The bases of these mirrors are two sides of the square, and have three of its corners. You stand in the fourth corner, away from the walls. The girl stands in the center of the square and you can see her and two reflections of her. You may instruct her to pose or strip as suits your pleasure.”
“You are beautiful.” Billy said.
“Thank you. I wish you could know how much that means to me.” Michelle answered. Then she continued. “Here is the shower and here is the luxurious bathtub. Here is a refrigerator stocked with various drinks.”
“There are three kinds of girls you may enjoy to your heart’s content.” Michelle told Billy.

But they all have penises so you're out of luck there.

“We angel girls will be here because we have a crush on you, and we are willing to serve you as you wish. We love it. There are prisoner girls, who are Earth girls who have been condemned to eternal punishment. These will be brought to the Torture House. Their punishment is your reward, and you have the unlimited privilege to molest and rape them as you wish.

Oh God...

The Torture House is also the only place on the island where male guests will be found. It intensifies a prisoner girl’s anguish to get gang-raped, you see, and sometimes up to five men will be gathered in a torture house.”
“What kind of terrible sin could a girl commit to be sentenced to such a gruesome fate?” Billy gasped.
“Ours is not to reason why.” Michelle said.
Billy’s eyes popped open, and his jaw dropped. “What? Ours is not to reason why?” Then it occurred to him. “Oh, that’s right! These are not the statutes and orders of men, who are imperfect at their best, and much worse at times, because of perfidy.

The author is definitely a MRA (Men's Rights Activist) on Reddit, isn't he?

Earthly governors, judges and magistrates need to be kept in check by people who have minds of their own, and who can think for themselves. But such is not the case here. We who have been endowed with limited intelligence cannot deny the correctness of a ruling that, by definition, is correct.”
“Precisely. Let me tell you, you may have male visitors in the Torture House, just to sit and chat and drink with the guys. An angel girl can bring you drinks and fetch you a prisoner girl if you wish. I will be happy to be your waitress, but I will be dressed, shall we say, a little more conservatively if you have company.” Michelle told him.
“Well, yes, I enjoy you greatly, but I wouldn’t want to share you.” Billy assured her.

Now my tongue is starting to bleed from biting it so hard.

“Prisoner girls never get a rest. As soon as the men are finished with her, she is taken away. She has about enough time to dress herself again and she is thrust into another torture house somewhere else. It is continuous, day and night. She gets no sleep.” Michelle said. Billy took a deep breath at the gruesome thought.

Shouldn't he be upset since a governing body (God) is being a tyrant and destroying the freedoms of others?

Michelle went on, “The other kind of girl will be the servant girl. These are Earth girls who have fallen short of Heaven. They are also your reward. They are first taken to a planet very much like this island, where they have everything they need. There is no crime and no disease, but they cannot be promoted to Heaven unless they agree to be a slave first. Unlike prisoner girls, the servant girls do not get transferred from man to man. They are one man’s slave. They would not be found at the Torture House, but would be delivered to you here at your house, or wherever on the island you like. You can have one brought to this serve room. You may have as many of them as you wish. They are required to do everything you say.”
“Right now, I just want you, Michelle. You….” Billy said, his voice trembling, “…take…my…breath…away.” He looked into her brown eyes and put his hands on her shoulders. Then he drew her closer and kissed her. She took off her cheerleader uniform and stood in the center of the mirror square for him to admire. Billy stepped up to her and kissed her again. Then he removed her bra and dropped it on the floor. He ran his hands down her body to her waist, and pulled down her panties to her ankles. She stepped out. Billy stood up and unfastened her bra.
“Wait a second. Am I losing my mind? Didn’t I just remove your bra?” he wondered.
“Yes, you did. You seemed to enjoy it. Go ahead, remove it.” Michelle replied.
Billy unfastened the bra and gently slid it over her shoulders, and down her arms. Then he got down and pulled her panties, to her ankles. Michelle stepped out.
“You seem to enjoy stripping off my lingerie.” Michelle said. “As soon as you strip off my bra, and look away, another materializes. Strip off my panties, another pair materializes. You cannot be watching, because it would be too much for your mind.

So basically Asian boobies scare him?

But I am happy for you, happy that I can make you happy. Go ahead and strip me as long as you want. Just let me know when you want it to stop.”

Why do I have a feeling that he pretty much scared his sister(s) for stealing her Barbies and dressing and undressing them in front of her.

[Airrider]

Christ almighty. It's like Jack Chick and John Norman were fused in a particle accelerator.