The Lib

499 Words | Horror | Satire

The Lib

Chad hit the pause button on KILL ALL THE LIBS XIV. He could have sworn he’d heard something.

Popping one ear cup off, he listened, but all he heard was the shhhh of the air purifier and the zzzt-glug of the water alkalizer. The tinny drone of the Bill O’Reilly and Sean Hannity AI Show came from somewhere in the distance.

Nope, nothing. Chad shrugged and was just about to restart the game when the noise came again: a loud bang-bang-bang from the front door.

“What the fuck?”

A visitor. His heart thudded loudly. No one had stopped by his place in, well, Chad really couldn’t remember. Had to be a prank. Some commie libtard, maybe, although Chad had his doubts. Hadn’t they all been killed off in the Election Wars?

Carefully and quietly, he unstrapped himself from the gaming couch and pulled the jack out from under his ear with one slightly shaky hand.

Chad reached down and rifled through empty pizza boxes and food wrappers. Where the fuck was it? Then his hand closed around the handle. He pulled his PATRIOT III full-auto machine gun off the floor and checked the magazine.

“Fuck with me, I’ll fuck with you harder,” he said, stumbling only a little bit as he made his way to the front door. He began unlocking the thing, but the visitor’s knocks had turned forceful.

“Just a damn minute!” Chad shouted, finally opening the final lock. He pushed the door open, machine gun ready to blast any damn communists standing there.

But there were no reds there. Instead, it was a squad of black-clad enforcers in full body armor and masks. Chad relaxed a little.

“Chad Harris?” the leader demanded.

“Yes, that’s me,” Chad answered.

“Put down your weapon. You’re under arrest for terroristic threats, anti-capitalist sentiment, and anti-Christian propaganda.” The barrel of the enforcer’s gun came up before Chad could even think about doing anything.

“W-what?”

“On July 18th, you were recorded making anti-capitalist remarks and cursing the name of the Holy American Emperor, God save his soul.”

Chad felt the blood drain from his face. “I-I would never!”

“It’s on video, scum. Now, drop the gun!”

Chad’s gun clattered to the ground. “Look, this is a mistake. I’m no liberal jackoff!”

Another enforcer stepped up, phone out, video cued. On the screen, a tiny Chad lay on his gaming couch, headphones and goggles in place. The enforcer tapped the play button. “I don’t know, man,” tiny Chad said. “You’d think that the emperor could get grocery prices down by now. And don’t get me started on the forced church tithes!”

Chad felt his stomach drop. They had him dead to rights. He was a criminal.

“The sentence is death,” the enforcer said, stepping back with the other enforcers. The barrels of their guns came up as one, and then they fired. Chad fell where he stood, an example for anyone tempted to go the dark road of communism and atheism.