“Sweet Jesus…” Garry ‘Ray-Ray’ Nelson said from the passenger seat of the vehicle. Pastor Rob looked across the middle console with a side eye that really caught Garry. The slap fighting champion of Nelson County smirked and continued chewing on a toothpick. He pointed out the front windshield, astonished.

“My lord, look at that there Washin-ton Monument. Ya see that thing there Pastor Rob? Darn thing stands there, perfectly pointed skyward. A giant sand stone monument that pierces the womb of the sky… What majesty, what amazement… Pastor Rob that thing looks happier than I do when I see Betsy-Sue,” Ray-Ray smirks and looks across the console with his own side eye at Pastor Rob. “And really Pastor Rob, I’m a married man, I’m allowed ta say that my wife makes me happy Pastor Rob. But I SWEAR TA CHRIST IF I HEAR YA SAY ONE WORD ‘BOUT MY MA!”

Pastor Rob sighed, it had to have been the seventh time that Ray-Ray had made that joke, or a similar joke on the trip. He’d have to use an enormous favor to get into Representative Collins’ office, but to avoid the largest scandal in Nelson County church going history, anything was on the table.

“OH LOOK AT THAT! THAT RIGHT THERE IS THE WHITE HOUSE! That’s clearly where all the power in our entire country is centered. That buildin’ right there can probably fold in itself like a Transformer and fly off ta a secret moon base if shit ever really hits the fan. I bet ya that Schuler feller might know somethin’ ‘bout that entire thing. I heard he was real good pals with that old orange feller,” Ray-Ray stuck his head out the passenger side window letting the thirty-five mile per hour speed whip through his curled blonde locks.

“TAKE US TO THE MALL PASTOR ROB! I NEED A DOSE OF FREEDOM THIS MORNING!” Ray-Ray shouted into the wind and pointed towards the Washington Monument. Pastor Rob obliged, driving towards the monument and the sun rise. The two men had driven through the night, and the Collins’ office wouldn’t be open for a few more hours yet.

“Well, what do you wanna see first in the mall Ray-Ray?” Garry wasn’t sure what Pastor Rob was talking about. The Washington Mall with the giant polished sandstone phallic monument in the center was clearly the only place that mattered.

“I wanna see the giant dick of D.C.!” Garry shouted, Pastor Rob had never heard of the Lyndon B. Johnson memorial, but he figured a brief drive through the mall might do Garry some good.

“Sure Ray-Ray!”

Pastor Rob kept steering away through the city streets, the memorials were packed with Memorial Day related traffic. The Vietnam Memorial was surrounded by old veterans, the World War 2 memorial surrounded by children of fallen veterans. Finally, the car creeped along and found a non-crowded memorial. Pastor Rob pulled over, and Garry scrambled out the passenger window. He stood at attention, looking at the giant building.

“Look at that!” Ray-Ray screamed as he marched himself forward at the columned structure. He slowly walked up the stairs, each step his jaw slowly dropping down more and more. “I cannot believe the hallowed American ground I am walkin’ on… Here lies Abraham Lincoln! The same man that in the bible went up ta a mountain and had ta sacrifice his own son. That’s how he became President Pastor Rob, God straight told him go be President; you deserve it because you would kill your own kid. So he did, then he went out and freed all the slaves. He had ta out do that Moses feller, but then Lincoln went out and had ta help Lynyrd Skynyrd make all that wonderful music and died in a plane crash…”

Pastor Rob follows behind, rubbing his temples. He looked up at his mistress's dipshit son in sheer amazement of the stupidity that could be wielded by one impossibly dumb mind. Rob claps his hands together briefly before he puts one to his face out of sheer shame. The tears of pain and shame melded together to become a super groan of pure anguish. Ray-Ray continued on, overalls still dirty from the night in the car, waving his arms around in circles like a lunatic.

“CAN YA BELIEVE IT?! THESE FELLERS AINT NEVER TASTED FREEDOM LIKE THIS! BAM MILLER? HE HATES HIS FREEDOM. PUMPKIN BITCH? HATES JESUS AND FREEDOM. Pastor Rob I can’t believe they would dare put me in a ring with these people. These American hating Americans. They make me fly ta a foriegn land ta fight, ‘cause they can’t respect my beliefs. I’m an American farmer, and this land! ALL THIS LAND IS MY LAND!” Garry runs down the steps like a madman and leapt into the grass. He starts frantically tearing at the grass to get to the soil underneath.

“See this Rob! I AIN’T GOIN NO WHERE WITHOUT THIS CLEAN AMERICAN TOP SOIL! I’m gonna put that dirt in my shoes, I’m gonna put that dirt in my pockets, and by the Lord’s name I’ll put that dirt in my ears. I ain’t leavin’ this ‘Merican land behind. I NEED IT!” Ray-Ray shouted dramatically.

“Yeah Ray-Ray…” The words ‘jesus-fucking-christ’ almost slipped, followed by ‘holy-fucking-shit’ and ‘God-damn-son-you-are-fucking-stupid.’ Then the Pastor wondered if he fucked the soil like Ray-Ray was currently doing, would it make the soil more Holy? Ray-Ray screamed while frantically humping the dry earth.

“Get in the fucking car Garry,” Pastor Rob shouted as he pointed his finger back to the car. Garry, shocked by the Pastor’s use of a curse word, is mortified. He frantically straightened himself up and looked back at the camera. Where he stood up, a large amount of white powder could be seen littering the ground, and under Garry Ray-Ray Nelson’s nose.

—------------------------------------

“I tell you what, Mrs. Paige, this is not a boondoggle! Who is the one with the degree from DeVry?” Representative Lionel Collins was a big man, boisterous in nature. He had a real difficult time modulating his voice...and also his rampant sexism. The poor young page shirked away, rolling her eyes, her bundle of documents nestled underneath her arm as she stormed out of his office. Swinging back around in his opulent tax-payer funded office chair (with gold trim as well as ivory that was surely not from illegal wild hunts in Africa), he tried to hide his shock as he stared at someone who was damn near eight inches taller than him. “Haha…huh…so, Pastor Rob, I am sure you are well aware of the need to increase our lumber mill subsidies for The Coming!”

“The Coming?” Pastor Rob had spent so much of his time driving all the way to Washington DC with Garry, he couldn’t help his excitement being around a gen-you-whine congressman.

“Ah yes, The Coming.” Lionel Collins came from a long line of Collins. They owned cotton farms back in the olden days. They called these ‘the simpler times’. “So, I watched this video, on the Youtubes, it’s a great place…great place...don’t think most people know about it, but in it, these two gentlemen who were eating Bodease…that’s a turmeric extract…and they were saying that the stars were aligning and there was going to be a second flood. Like with Noah. But even bigger. And the Ark Encounter is such a big hit...I just know we need it down here too...”

There was no amount of prayer that could fix the rampant insanity spewing from this elected official’s mouth.

“Now, Garry, son…” he trailed off. He and Garry were the same age. “So, how can I help you?”

“Well gosh Sir,” Garry Ray-Ray Nelson was cramped in this space, in his too small chair, his knees nearly reaching his chest. “I gots a mighty big favor ta ask ya, cuz I am tryin’ ta save The Farm, and I just–”

As Garry was trying to explain his situation, Representative Collins flipped through one of the many books on his desk labeled ‘Campaign Contributors.’ Licking his fingers, he went page by page, oblivious to the background chatter surrounding him. When he got to the N’s, his eyes grew wide. Slamming the book shut, he took on a much greater interest in what was being said to him. “Why, Mr. Garry Nelson...I can call you Mister, right?”

“Well, I mean gosh darn it, I’m a pretty big Mister, and I really like the cut of your jib.”

“I can see that!” Representative Collins exclaimed. “Your family has been…very…very generous to my campaigns in the past.”

The fact that these funds could have been used to help make it so the family farm was not in its current state of repossession is lost on everyone. “You put America first, Con-grass-man Collins, and ole Ray-Ray, he puts America first! Number one in his heart! And I need ta show this in a place nobody from Nelson County ever done gone to!”

“Oh yes, XWF’s Leap of Faith. Dubai! Now let me tell you, son,” Collins trailed off as he drew closer, elbows planted against the desk. “The bathrooms there. Small. Small stalls. And me, I got a wide stance. You can empathize, I’m sure.”

Garry simply sat there, scratching his magnificent mustache.

Representative Collins continued. “And let me assure you, Garry, I, United States Representative Lionel Collins, was not involved in cottaging in the men’s bathroom. Like you, the only cottages I believe in are on the open plains of this great, great nation.”

“Oh I believes ya, I think we all need that in our lives. But I ain’t gonna be able to make it to Dubai and win my battle royal if I am stuck here. I mean, I ain’t wantin’ to really leave Old Glory, but someone done sabotaged my damn passport.”

“Garry! Language!”

“Oh gosh gee, I’m sorry Pastor Rob, I just got so excited and this is such a big moment for me and the family and Betsy-Sue and, they done messed my name up Congressman Collins, they done did that to me, done tried ta eliminate me like I was Osama and his awful boys. Our colors don’t run, and neither do I. I need ta get me a passport and fast!”

“You know Garry Ray-Ray Nelson, I think I can help you with that!” The jubilant Representative Collins rose from his seat, and extended his hand. “These colors won’t run, but we need to make sure that all your opponents will. To the passport office!”

With great haste, all three tried to rush out of the congressional office, but then, well, they became log jammed in the doorway, just like so many pieces of legislation in this wonderful capital.


—------------------------------------

As written on a few airplane napkins and passed to the XWF news team to post in its entirety. God bless whoever transcribed this message, Garry clearly didn’t pass his writing test in the 3rd grade:

Bam Miller is out there on the twitters, and I see him all the time talkin’ ‘bout how he ain’t no joker no more. But listen here Bam-Bam Miller. You’re always gonna be a good fer nothin’ joker. Just like my Momma told me I was gonna be. But I ain’t gonna be that Bam-Bam. That’s gonna be you ya son of a bitch! I’m gonna slap yer taste buds right over the top rope and inta the second deck.

Whatcha gonna do Bam? Bring a brick? BOY I ALREADY GOT TWO BRICKS COMIN’ WITH ME TA THAT RING! I got these enormous hands, and when I get ta swingin’ ‘em ya better get ta watchin’ out! Cause I’m gonna slap ya over the top rope faster than an Einstein can count ta three!

Joshua Schuler, now I gotta lotta questions fer ya Mr. Schuler. I need ta know the government secrets, and ya look like a man who might know a thing or two about some government secrets. So tell me, really, what do they keep at that Area 51? Did ya ever get that outta yer boy Trump over a spliff and some bourbon? And if ya didn’t… What kinda man with rare Presidential access are ya? Ya didn’t get all yer questions answered? Do I need my tin-foil hat? Are there aliens? Do they have special mind control powers?

WE’LL NEVER KNOW BECAUSE JOSHUA SCHULER DIDNT FUCKIN’ ASK! He had a golden opportunity ta be able ta know the damn secrets of the world and he didn’t fuckin’ ask! I bet ya that son of a bitch Schuler is some type a FreeMason. If he wants ta come over and share my weed he’s gonna need ta prove it ta me that he ain’t no FreeMason scumbag. And his head looks like a pumpkin just like the pumpkin lady.

Pumpkin lady looks like she’s an evil pumpkin lady from the land of the Pumpkin queens. What the fuck am I supposed ta say ‘bout some chick who dresses up like a jack-o-lantern? I dunno, I’m gonna say and do some mean things ta ya but I really don’t know how ta really go ‘bout trashin’ the Pumpkin’ King’s wife. I always liked the Peanuts ‘Halloween’ special and really enjoyed that part. But you know, if you’re separated from him and not really hangin’ out with him anymore, then I guess I gotta get mad at ya fer makin’ The Great Pumpkin all sad and shit. You mean bitch you.

Venomous women and venomous men same part of a venomous clan. Chronic Chris Page has all of his men lined up ta get slapped in the face by Garry Nelson. And I’m fine with that, but that’s better than goin’ out ta that hussy bar fer a weddin’ reception. Gotta say I respect ya Xavier, ya didn’t give in ta the peer pressure ta go ta the devil’s hole. That means ya gotta a will of yer own, some real damn willpower there. And Pastor Rob told me that’s a great thing that all men should be tryin’ ta have. But even with yer superior willpower, ya still threatened ta bury me in yer backyard like I’m some kinda animal.

LISTEN UP XAVIER. I’M THE ONE BURYIN’ ANIMALS ‘ROUND THESE PARTS! NOT YOU!

And you, very rich horny demon man. I’m sure ya trapsed ‘round that demon hole party, lookin’ at all the scandalous women or somethin’. Ya might be able ta chain it up inside ya, but just ‘cause yer some kinda horny demon man doesn’t mean ya get ta come ta anyone’s farm and just take it away. ‘Cause rich folk like YOU are the reason that good, strong, hard workin’ folk like me aren’t able ta raise their families off the land like they used ta be able ta. And it’s all because of horny rich demon men like ya!

GIMME MY FARM BACK DEMON MAN!

Listen, the X DUBBBBBBYA F wants ta make a fool of Ray-Ray, but NOBODY is makin’ no fools of Ray-Ray Nelson. Not in no Dubai, not in some place that thinks it’s United and DEFINITELY NOT when I have the soil of the freest country in the world in my pocket! I’ll be the one possessed demon man! POSSESSED BY THE SPIRIT OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN! THE BEST DAMN SLAP FIGHTER TA EVER LIVE! AND ALL OF YA’LL ARE IN FER IT AT LEAP OF FAITH! I WILL BE THE ONE TA FACE A CHAMPION OF MY CHOOSIN’! NOT YER CHOOSIN’! MINE!

And I’ll come get ya, whoever ya are… I’ll show ya who's the real gosh darn bossman.

– As Transcribed by Billy-Bob Stevens the X DUBYA F intern in charge of translating and sub-titling Garry ‘Ray-Ray’ Nelson.