You turn to the twitter feed, and, exerting your power of mind, manage to pause its constant stream.
The posts are horrifying. Such an unimaginable amount of racism, bigotry and transphobia that it makes your skin crawl. The only remotely decent person you see is Robert Stancil, a liberal politician, but even he is a DINO. And despite how much ground he cedes to them, the chuds only relentlessly tear into him.
Below his post is an absolutely disgusting one by a Roman statue PFP, featuring an extremely insensitive soyjak. The ‘soyboys’, its object of mockery, are long gone. But the meme still trudges on, like a zombie from one of your spine-tingling horror films – destitute of purpose, but stubbornly determined not to die.
2020 is practically prehistory. You were old enough to have lived through it, but too young to remember much. You’re something of a revivalist; you dress like those brave men from the trying times of the pandemic, and try to emulate their oddball style. It was a simpler, happier time, where racism wasn’t the new normal.
Shaking your head, you notice a strange button at the bottom reading ‘activate rape mode’. Out of morbid curiosity, and a hope that this might help you to incapacitate the clerk, you click it.
Once you do, large red buttons saying ‘RAPE’ appear under all the posters’ profile pictures. This is kind of disconcerting.
What do you do?
