Super #SJW Man Chapter 10
TEAM WOKE GOES UP IN FLAMES
[These Super #SJW Man posts are chapters from a book originally published in 2019. For the table of contents and introduction, click here. Previous Entry: Chapter 9, in which Team Woke Boycotts the Mall for Having Separate Clothing Sections for Men and Women]
Super #SJW Man was sitting in his bed at home, alone, drinking tequila. He had tried to watch Orange Is the New Black on Netflix, which had been one of his favorite shows, but after his encounter with the criminal justice system yesterday, he couldn’t bear to watch it anymore.
He had spent a couple of hours in a holding cell before being processed and released. While waiting in the cell, he had been forced to spit-shine his cellmates’ sneakers by licking them clean and rubbing them dry with his hair. He had tried to convince them that he was their ally; but somehow, he had miscommunicated his message, and they thought he was insulting them.
As he took another swig from the tequila bottle, he shook his head and shuddered. The disastrous events of yesterday seemed like a nightmare. He couldn’t believe any of it had actually happened.
“How could things have gone so badly at the mall?” he wondered aloud. He shook his head, as one of several embarrassing images from the day before flashed across his memory. He groaned and took another drink from the bottle.
His phone rang. He picked it up. Recognizing Captain Wokeness’s number on the caller ID, he put the phone down again, without answering.
The phone continued ringing every half minute or so. He ignored it.
Finally, he heard someone knocking at his door. He groaned and got up to answer it.
“Who is it?” he yelled.
“Come on, man, open up!” yelled Captain Wokeness.
Super #SJW Man heaved himself to his feet, and after stumbling around haphazardly for a moment, he finally opened the door. Captain Wokeness was standing outside, still wearing the same clothes that he had worn the previous two days. He grinned and held out a bouquet of flowers.
“Why did you get me flowers?” asked Super #SJW Man.
Captain Wokeness shook his head and walked inside. “I didn’t. One of your neighbors did.”
“Huh?”
“Yeah, the lady downstairs in the apartment right under yours.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Super #SJW Man. “How do you know they were from her?”
Captain Wokeness shrugged. “They were outside her door. They didn’t have anyone’s name on them, so I assumed she must have gotten them for you.”
“Take them back!” cried Super #SJW Man. “You already got me in trouble yesterday at the mall. Please don’t get me in trouble with my neighbors.”
“Getting in trouble is just part of being a revolutionary,” replied Captain Wokeness. “Che Guevara, Lenin, Malcolm X, they all got into trouble, too. We’re following in their footsteps.”
“Please put them back,” said Super #SJW Man.
“She said I could have them,” retorted Captain Wokeness.
“She did?” Super #SJW Man looked at the flowers skeptically.
“Yeah, why else would someone put flowers outside their door?”
Super #SJW Man threw up his hands in exasperation.
Just then, someone else started pounding at the door.
“Oh great,” said Super #SJW Man. “No doubt it’s my neighbor, here to reclaim her flowers.”
He opened the door to find Myrna, who was wearing a white, low-cut halter top, a bright pink mini skirt, and black high-heeled shoes.
“I bought you these, my love,” said Captain Wokeness, holding out the flowers to Myrna.
“Awwww, you shouldn’t have,” she said. She and Captain Wokeness embraced and began kissing passionately.
“Don’t mind me,” said Super #SJW Man, in a sarcastic tone.
“We won’t,” said Myrna. She and Captain Wokeness laughed. “You mind if we use your bed?” she continued. “Or should we do it on your couch?”
Super #SJW Man shook his head and buried his face in his hands. “What have I gotten myself into?” he said.
“Oh, tequila!” cried Myrna. She picked up the half-empty bottle on the table and uncapped it.
“Give me some of that to-kill-ya, too,” said Captain Wokeness.
Myrna took a long drink from the bottle and then passed it to Captain Wokeness, who began chugging it.
“Shit!” yelled Super #SJW Man. “Don’t drink it all! Slow down!”
Myrna laughed and began chanting, “Go! Go! Go!”
After several big gulps, Captain Wokeness slammed down the bottle on the table, breaking it.
“Fucking A!” shouted Super #SJW Man. “That was an expensive bottle! And now I’m out of alcohol!”
“Calm down,” said Myrna, in a soothing voice. She opened her purse and took out a large blunt. “This is much better for your nerves than tequila.”
Super #SJW Man sat down and leaned back in the chair, with a look of resignation on his face. After the other two had taken a long drag from the blunt, Super #SJW Man eagerly accepted it from Myrna and put it to his lips.
No sooner had he begun to inhale, than he suddenly blew out all the smoke and started gasping terribly. When he caught his breath, he shot a suspicious glance at Myrna.
“That tasted funny,” he said. “What kind of weed is that?”
Myrna giggled. “Good shit. Primo!”
“Primo?” asked Super #SJW Man.
“What’s wrong with your friend?” asked Myrna.
“Primo!” shouted Captain Wokeness. “Marijuana mixed with crack!”
“Holy shit,” muttered Super #SJW Man. “Don’t give me any more.”
“More for us!” exclaimed Myrna.
“I’ll be back,” said Super #SJW Man, as he put on his sneakers. “I got to get some more tequila. I can’t handle weed — or whatever that is. Not this morning.”
“Alright,” said Captain Wokeness. Myrna beckoned for him to leave already, as she took another long hit.
The liquor store wasn’t far away, but Super #SJW Man walked slowly and took a circuitous route. He didn’t feel like going back to his apartment and seeing his teammates.
When he finally returned about forty-five minutes later, he was surprised to see flashing red lights outside his building. As he got closer, his shock gave way to a sinking feeling and then to despair. Smoke was seeping out of the windows of his apartment. Firemen were carrying Captain Wokeness outside. Myrna was lying on a stretcher and being loaded into the back of an ambulance.
Super #SJW Man looked from his smoky apartment to the fire trucks, from the fire trucks to his unconscious teammates on the stretchers, and from his teammates back to his apartment, which was going up in flames.
“Fuck it,” he murmured. “I give up.”
He turned around and started walking nonchalantly the other way. He shuffled his feet as he walked and stared blankly into the distance. The gloomy look in his eyes and the deep frown on his face conveyed his despair and defeat perfectly.
He didn’t care anymore. If being “woke” was this horrible, then maybe it was time for him to go to sleep.
[Up Next: Chapter 11, in which Super #SJW Man Goes back to Being Marshall B. Rich, III. Or return to the Table of Contents.]
Being woke is like embracing futility. You might end up destroying the culture, but probably your soul first. Fun deconstruct...
This is delightful.