The Powers of Tracy Choi

Tracy Choi sat across from Mike Pence. She was tied to a chair while he stared at her, a candy cigarette in his mouth.

"Why don't you smoke a real one? You just look like a pussy"

"Why don't you just---SHUT UP" Mike snapped back.

"Why don't you read a book and maybe you'll have better comebacks"

"OHHH GOOD ONE. I do read."

"Cliff notes-ing the new testament doesn't count boo"

"I've never even heard of--that" there was a kind of patheticism in his voice it was almost impossible to miss.

"I BELIEVE YOU" She said in the most painfully patronizing tone. She squinted her Chinese eyes but the expensive and very effective botox meant that they were sorta medusa-ed so to speak. She did however successfully purse her lips--menacingly one might add. Well--menacing to Mike Pence. Nevertheless, Mr. Pence was very menaced and the candy cigarette he had in his mouth had nearly fallen out. Now they were back to sitting in silence staring hatefully at eachother. Tracy couldn't help thinking that maybe she should give Pence her doctors number he could definitely use some work, especially around the eyes, she figured she could mention it later as it seemed inappropriate at the moment.

She looked around the room. They were definitely in an underground bunker. The location of which Tracy was somewhat uncertain she had suspicions it was close to where the Republican National Convention was held but the chloroform they used to kidnap her had somewhat dimmed her senses.

"We know about your powers Tracy Choi"

"I haven't the faintest clue what you are referring to"--she played dumb.

Mike crushed the candy cigarette in his palm the chalk splintering like...well...chalk.

"We have big plans for you Tracy choiiii…" he held onto the last note of the clause with an almost musicality. Why? One can only guess with a man like Mike Pence, he did however have a secret love of musicals so perhaps it just a Freudian slip on an octave scale. Or perperhaps he was just a weirdo. Lest it be known that I am just the narrator so I cannot actually explain why Mike Pence pretends to smoke candy cigarettes or says short sentences as if he's singing them. If I could maybe I would be a writer...or rather a psychic. But alas, I am just a narrator, in America I might add, so I don't even have good healthcare or god forbid dental benefits. Point being move to Canada kids. Ok. Back to the story.

Pence pulled from his feet a toolbox. It was bright pink.

"OH COME ON...Too easy" her mouth gaped open like a seabass gasping for air. She looked at him in dumbfounded disbelief.

"Pipe down...that's enough out of you" his face contorted into that of a toddler mid temper-tantrum.

"What are you gonna do about it? Call one of your guards on a Barbie walkie-talkie" she enunciated the last bit and added a slight head bob for flourish.

This was not her first rodeo. No sir.

Tracy cocked her head a little to the left. Something glistened in the corner of his eye.

"ARE YOU FUCKING CRYING RIGHT NOW?" She spat out the words and it was as if she hit a switch to turn on a waterfall. He burst into tears.

"LISTEN, WE KNOW ABOUT YOU MRS. CHOI"

he was wagging his finger in her face as his own face reddened to a tomatoesque hue. He wiped his tears and opened the toolbox.

He proceeded to pull out a Barbie-walkie talkie and call for backup.

It was only a few moments before the pounding of several sets of footsteps could be heard thundering down the hallway.

"We're gonna get all the info we need from you"

"I'm a Scorpio I'll never tell!"

"You're a cusp!"

"So"

"So there's some Sagittarius mutability in there. You don't think we did our research before we kidnapped you." as he said this the door opened and five figures walked in. Ann Coulter was first she was wearing a cerulean blue dress with a plunging neckline to reveal a non-existent bosom not to mention mismatched shoes. One pump and one really ugly woven wedge. You know the kind I'm talking about--that girls always seems to wanna wear because they think they're cute but really are only appropriate for beach weddings but still somehow every becky on every block tries to rock them like they're blunt bangs in 2003. Yes one of "those" shoes. Absolutely hideous. She was also wearing silver earrings and a yellow gold necklace. Tracy could feel her stomach turn--heathens she thought. Who mixes metals like that?

The next was Fred Phelps. He was the head of the Westboro Baptist church. Another fashion disaster. He was wearing a white cowboy hat and he looked like a Skeleton in a skin suit three sizes two small. In his arms he carried a large orange (probably from Florida) on its head was a toupee glued rather hurriedly on. Someone was nice enough to give it eyes.

The fourth person was Kelly Ann Conway. She backwards crabwalked into the room and after her head did a 360 degree spin she nestled up next to the orange with really bad hair. She didn't actually speak she mostly just made grunting sounds and some clicks and growls. Tracy had read somewhere that she used echolocation to travel. An oddity of evolution Mrs. Conway was but of course the creationists believed Jesus made her that way so a lot of scientists really missed out on some killer data. Tracy pondered whether there was a way to capture it and bring it back to the DNC but figured that there would be other opportunities so she focused instead on her escape. The fifth and final person was Stacy Dash who seemed to be really confused as to what and who she was looking at.

"Who the fuck is this? You told me I was gonna meet Omarosa!" Stacy retorted shattering the silence. Kelly Ann Conway clicked her tongue three times and hissed very loudly. The orange sat in a contemplative silence.

"Shhhh Stacy--not now! Let's ask the POTUS what he thinks" Mike notioned to Fred Phelps to raise the orange to his ear.

Pence nodded his head as if he was hearing it speak to him. "Mhhmhmmhhmm" he looked off into the distance. His eyes fixated on a corner of the room. He stared at it for what seemed an interminable amount of time.

"That's just an orange with a furball glued to it and who drew eyes on it! I wanna know so I can slap you later"

Silence.

"Wow doth do protest too much. You guys are sad AND predictable. AN ORANGE REALLY?! AN ORANGE?! You couldn't afford an actor? Or a stunt double. Or this is just an idea maybe not bring an orange wearing a wig!"

"Please don't talk about the POTUS like that. Its very rude" Ann replied.

" You know what just kill me already. Pence if you're too scared to because I could probably guess that you are just give me something hard to bang my head against and I'll do it for you"

"Kill you? We're not going to kill you. We need you. We know about your powers Tracy Choi. You are the chosen one. God gave you the ability to make the homo-sEXSHUaLS straight. We intend to use that--"

"Make the gays straight? That's impossible people are born gay we all know this. No one including myself could ever make a gay person straight." She said convincingly.

But the truth was that Tracy was in fact able to make gay men straight. She had been born near a nuclear waste facility and after being nibbled by a radioactive fag at her prom she was bestowed with the gift. It was not until she managed a large gay club in NYC that she became aware of her gift. An accidental kiss from a Guzband (Gay husband) ultimately turned him straight and then another random faggot who kissed her whilst drunk became a Mormon the very next week--last she had heard he was arrested on polygamy charges--for having 7 wives. Everything they were saying was true. But she had known this day would come. It was only a matter of time before the RNC and the Westboro Baptist church caught wind because it could make them billions of dollars if they use her as a converter.

"Enough nonsense! Bring in the fairy!" Pence yelled out. Kelly Ann galloped out of the room on all fours and came back with a white twink. He walked in wearing a rainbow tutu and a shirt that said 'Avenge Shangela'; on his arm he had a Chinese tattoo that he did not know the meaning of; and he was high on both molly and GHB. Pence commanded him "KISS HER" all of them chimed in except the orange. Kelly Ann did a kinda irish-ish jig whilst clicking her tongue in excited bliss.

"Where the hell is Omarosa?!" Stacy Dash yelled out suddenly.

"NOT NOW STACY!" Pence clapped back.

The basic twink began to waddle towards her. "Whats your sign? I am a Libra" it said opening it lips and beginning to close its eyes.

"KISS HER!"

Tracy knew it was time for action she had been whittling the rope tying her hands with her French manicure while she conversed with Pence. She didn't normally get French tips but she was thankful she had chosen it on a whim. Classic and Chic. Double whammy. The rope fell apart and she threw her body weight backwards somersaulting and landing on her feet. "I am a Scorpio/Saggitarius Cusp"

"That's a really powerful cusp to be both of those signs are really strong--" the twink began to say but then

She round-house kicked him in the face. She did a backflip into a front handspring into a triple punch +triple kick combo a la Kelly-Ann's face. Kelly Ann yelped and then scampered away. Tracy Choi grabbed the orange out of Pence's surprised hand.

"Throw all of your semi-automatic weapons on the ground or the president dies."

"Not the POTUS" screamed Ann Coulter. She reached into her clutch and pulled out an AK-47. She gave it to Tracy. Pence began to cry again and handed over the handgun hidden in his blouse.

"OK I AM GONNA ASK ONE LAST TIME WHERE IS OMAROSA!" Stacy Dash screamed.

"NOT NOW--" Mike tried to begin but instead Stacy dash started bludgeoning Pence with the kitten heel of her Manolo Blahnik. Tracy grabbed the weapons and knocked out Fred Phelps with the butt of the Semi-Automatic. As she left she crushed the orange in her hand and tossed the pulp upon Pence's curled body.

"SHE KILLED THE PRESIDENT" Ann Coulter cried out.

"Tell them that Tracy Choi says 'God bless the proletariat' " She then made some aggressive hand motions. Coulter winced.

The sounds of Mike Pence's screams could still be heard from down the hallway as Tracy made her fabu scape.

Epilogue:

It was covered in the remains of the most highliested presidancers in all of Ameriklan histories that Mr. Pence realized it was finally his turn.

He picked up the Barbie walkie as a voice spoke over

"Mister president"

"She speaks--yes"