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Are You Cool?
Pink Toy'd

I just had a recent encounter with a few of Thornhill's finest homophobic elite; they sure are a bright bunch. Our confrontation began with a mouthful of profanities, courtesy of team "fagkillas", along with a nice mélange of threats and incoherent mumbling. Apparently, the "ganstas", as I've often heard them referred to as, had gotten a wee bit unsteady from seeing me in the halls sporting an elegant black semi see-through dress (which was part of our movie for comm. tech). Words like fag, stupid rocker, queer, cocksucker bounced in and out of my ears. I let it slide, after all I was a lady, and ladies don't talk back. Until.....

A few days had come and gone, and I was back to my old three fifteen shadow ways. While my stubbly body was making its way towards the front of the school where my ride usually comes for me, I was suddenly faced with an obstacle, or perhaps more appropriately a nuisance. The "fag killas" were at it again. However, this time the bitterness seemed to have escalated. There was more of them now, and this time they were even madder than hell, apparently 'cause I was walking on "their territory". "Next time you walk by here, I'm gonna kick your ass," the leader spoke coarsely. It was obvious, I was dealing with a bunch of tone-deaf monkey rebels. My blood started to boil, I felt violated of my human rights, I had to do something, say something ! I thought to myself, what would John Locke say to these oppressive monsters? Then I heard his voice speak to me so clearly, "lynch the damn faggot." ...huh? No, now was not the time for history, now was not the time for role models.

"You've got some issues to work out buddy," I said sure of myself. They weren't too gay with my remark, and the group called me over to them so they could slap me around and re-arrange my brain's furniture. I may be stubborn, but I'm not stupid (not all the time, at least). I knew if I walked over to them somebody would get hurt, and considering the four against one ratio it would most likely be me. So, I ignored their demands and walked on to the front of the school sidewalk where a vacant police car was parked. Projectiles were launched on the way, but I managed to make it untouched (they can't throw either). Then the sad scene came along (ok...get your kleenex ready). A little boy maybe 7 years young came prancing by the cocksure hoodlums. "Hey kid, call that guy a faggot!" they instructed while pointing at me. "Faggot!" he pronounced with charming innocence. I was put in my place. What could I say now, the dickheads had won the battle. They laughed and showered the cute mislead tike with "props" as I whispered to myself in vain, "Now you're in the cool club." When I got home and told my mom (mamma's boy) about the troubles she quickly closed the kitchen door, making sure my father couldn't overhear, and asked timidly "Well....are you a faggot?"

I said, "No ma, I'm cool."