The New Union

Hat boy squirmed in his chair, and if he didn't have tape over his mouth, I'm sure he'd be cussing me out up and down. All you could here were his muffled cries, and I decided to make an attempt to reason with him.

"Could you please try and calm yourself? I know this is a bit of an odd situation to be in, but for the sake of my associate's ears, could you please keep it down when we take the tape off? I would like to keep this as calm as possible. All we want to do is ask you a few questions, and explain what is going on."

The man finally caved in, and began to cry. Tyrone walked over and ripped the tape off of his mouth, and the man gave a short whimper before giving in and looking me in the face. I smiled at him, until he calmed down enough to where I could talk to him. I cleared my throat, and lit another cigarette before beginning the speech I had been preparing for far too long.

"Well, now that we can be civil, let me introduce myself. My name is Virgil, and this is my associate Tyrone."

Tyrone looked at me, and I remembered the whole thing about our names. I knew it needed to be remedied, I cleared my throat again, and thought of something fast.

"Of course, if I told you our real names, I'd have to kill you. My colleagues and I, call ourselves the New Union. What are we? You ask. Well, my fine redneck friend, we are the answer to an age old problem. The problem of ignorance. Blind ignorance and hate, passed down from generation to generation by people such as yourself. So, being the radical citizens we are, we've decided to form a group. Think of us as, a reverse Klu Klux Klan. The KKK hunts down all the things that are different from them, and tries to instill fear in them. We on the other hand, are everything that's different from them, instilling that very same fear. Now, I'm sure you're not a KKK member. Hell, I don't even think there really is much of a KKK anymore. However, we are here, and we will accomplish our goal, and you sir, you will be a foot stone on our path to true happiness and understanding. You should be proud. Now, my brain keeps calling you hat boy, but what's your real name?"

"My name is Joe," the man informed me.

"Well, Joe, that certainly is a very colorful name isn't it? Joe, tonight, you will go down in the annals of history. Now that we're all acquainted, I'll inform you of what exactly we'll be doing tonight. As you can see, here in the room we have a few things to conduct an... interview with. My friend Tyrone is carrying a video camera..."

"Oh shit! I forgot it, I'll be right back!" Tyrone exclaimed as he flew out of the room. I sighed and continued with my speech.

"A bit forgetful that one is. I believe I'll wait for my friend to get back before I continue."

I sucked down my cigarette, and decided to make small talk with my new friend Joe. After all, I needed him to be as comfortable as humanly possible. Unfortunately for me, I was never the greatest at making small talk.

"Beautiful weather we're having."

Joe shot me a look that had the words, "Are you fucking serious," written all over it. I knew the weather was terrible, but I never really learned the other things you say about the weather. A few more moments of awkward silence passed, until Tyrone came back in with the camera and a tripod that I forgot we even had. He set it up, and I continued my speech.

"Okay, anyways, we have a camera, as you can clearly see. Are we ready to shoot Tyrone?"

"Ready when you are."

"Well roll film. Now, that machine next to you there, is a polygraph. If you happen to not know what that is, its a lie detector test. Its reading your blood pressure, your heart rate and breathing patterns right now. Which is one of the reasons I need you to be calm. I know that's not easy, and even if you start freaking out, we'll still be able to tell if you're lying, so don't think doing that is going to bail your ass out of this. We'll start with a few test questions. These are to detect what you're like when you're not lying. First off, what is your full name?"

"Joseph David Barnes."

"Okay, see not so hard. Next question, oh, and by the way, this is going to be on the internet before the end of the night. I just kind of remembered that. Joe, do you have a wife, or a girlfriend at the moment?"

"I have a fiancee."

"Oh really? Well congratulations, whens the big day?"

"We haven't set a date yet."

"I see, do you have any kids Joe?"

"One, from my previous girlfriend."

"Ah, and what's their name?"

"I don't want to tell you."

"Oh, come on Joe. I'm not the type to hurt kids, hell, you don't even know why you're here yet, so just give me their name."

"Its Stacy."

"Ah, forgive me for asking, but that's one of those names that could go either way, male or female?"

"Female."

"Okay, now that we have all the boring stuff out of the way, let's move to the more challenging portion of our little interview. Joseph David Barnes, is this your voice on this audio?"

I played the file from my phone, just the part about slavery being a good thing, and a few parts where he dropped the N word. I could tell he knew I had him, and he hesitated before giving me an honest response.

"Yea, not all of it is me, but a lot of it is," Joe admitted.

"Ah, so then you know why you're here today?"

"Not really, I'm still trying to figure that out," Joe answered. I walked over and checked the polygraph. He was telling the truth. I guess it was time to explain exactly why he was here, even though I thought I was quite thorough before.

"Well Joe, you're here because you're the type of thinking we're trying to eradicate. I felt I was clear in explaining this before, but apparently I wasn't. Now, Mr.Barnes, the questions are going to start getting even tougher, and I'm going to demand your complete honesty, or else, there will be consequences. So Mr.Barnes, when you see my friend in the corner over there, what word comes to mind?"

"Well... He's black," Joe answered honestly.

"Ah, he's black. That is a true statement, and what do you normally call people of African American decent Mr.Barnes?"

"...I call them black."

I looked at the polygraph, and could tell he was lying. My uncle had been a polygrapher for the FBI for many years, and had taught me how to read them quite well. It helped that I found the subject so interesting. I looked back at Joe, and gave a smile. It was too bad we had already planned on blurring our faces and disguising the voices on the video. I wish the nation could have seen my delight.

"Ah, Mr.Barnes, it appears you've lied. You do not generally refer to African Americans as black people. So, as a man of my word, its time to face the consequences. Tyrone, are you ready?"

"Fuck yea I am," Tyrone replied as he grabbed the bolt cutters from off of the table.

"So, Mr.Barnes, or is it okay if I call you Joe? Which would you prefer?" I asked.

"Fuck! I don't care!" Joe screamed.

"Fair enough. Well, the punishment for lying, my dear friend, is the loss of an appendage of your choice. So, think long and hard about which finger or toe you can live without. I'll give you some time."

"No! Fuck! Please don't do this! I beg of you! I swear to fucking God I'm sorry!" Joe pleaded.

"Joe, I'll remind you, you're going to be an internet sensation, so you would do well to not come off as a total fucking pussy," I explained. Joe couldn't hold back his tears, and I did my best not to laugh at him. After about five minutes of this, he finally grew the balls to answer my question.

"The little toe."

"Which foot Joe?"

"Fuck! The left one!"

"See, now that wasn't so hard, now maybe you'll realize we aren't fucking around when we say there are consequences for lying," I threatened. Tyrone took Joe's shoe off, and put the bolt cutters to Joe's pinky toe.

"Well, on three he's going to cut Joe. Here we go, one... two... three."

Tyrone proceeded to cut Joe's toe off, and it flopped to the floor as Joe screamed in agony. Was it sick of me that I was still holding back laughter. You would think the sight of it would gross me out, but I picked it up off the floor, and showed it to him.

"What did this little piggy do? I think this is the one who cried wee wee wee all the way home. Its not over yet, we need to stop all that bleeding. Tyrone, mind rolling in the torch for our friend?"

"Always glad to help," Tyrone answered. He went into the hall and rolled in the blow torch. I started it up and used it it burn the wound shut where Joe's toe used to be.. He screamed so loud my ears started to ring, and I fought back a smile as I turned off the blow torch and rolled it back into the hall. After Joe calmed down a little bit, I decided to try and continue the interview.

"So, when you think of someone African American, what word generally comes to mind Joe?"

"Nigger! That's what comes to mind! Are you fucking happy now!? You sick fuck!"

"Well, yes and no. I'm happy you told the truth, but I'm disappointed in what the truth was."

Tyrone approached Joe and punched him in the face once, then added a few more shots to the stomach and groin. Joe looked confused after the beating, and looked at me for answers. I was more than happy to give him some.

"Sorry Joe, but I can't quite control the things my friend does. That's a very strong, hateful word you just said there, and I can understand how he'd be offended by it. Let's continue the interview shall we? Okay, so Joe, how exactly do you feel about African Americans? And feel free to be as long winded and descriptive as you'd like."

Joe didn't know how to respond. What could he do? He knew he was in a tough spot. It was either lie and lose a toe, or tell the truth and get your ass kicked. If it were me, I'd take an ass kicking and move on, but who knows what Joe was thinking. He took a deep breath and finally summoned the courage to answer my question.

"Fine! You want the truth! I fucking hate niggers! They're lazy and good for nothing. Most of them live off of welfare and wear pants that sag down to their ass! They can't speak English and... Just fuck 'em they can all go to hell!"

"Wow Joe, that wasn't very nice of you at all, and what's scary is every word you've said is true," I said as Tyrone walked over and began pounding away on his face. I knew I had to stop Tyrone before he knocked Joe unconscious.

"That'll be enough Tyrone. We can't just knock him out now, we'll be here all fucking night."

Tyrone stopped hitting Joe and backed himself into the corner of the room. Joe spit up some blood and said a few more fuck you's until finally shutting up. It was time for a new set of questions.

"Okay, well Joe, let's move on from the topic of race for now, and move on to something different. So, what's your stance on gay people Joe? And as I said before, feel free to be as long winded as you'd like. We admire your honesty... Sort of."

"Fagots are fucking disgusting to me. Its just not fucking natural, and it sickens me. Is that what you wanted to hear!? Probably not, but I'm pretty fucking sure I'm not lying!" Joe shouted.

"Well Joe, I wanted the truth and I got it," I answered.

"So who's gonna kick my ass? Is it gonna be you cupcake? Are you gonna hit me? You fucking little fagot!?"

"Oh no, I'm completely straight, despite what I said at the bar to get a rise out of you. However, my friend Annabelle is upstairs, and I'm not so sure how he'll feel about it. Tyrone, could you go get Annabelle for me, and inform him what our friend Joe just said?"

"Like I said, I'm always glad to help," Tyrone answered. He left the room and left me all alone with Joe, who was still spitting up blood. I decided to be nice and offer him a cigarette. He declined it, and before long Tyrone was back, motioning for me to come outside where he and Annabelle were waiting. Annabelle was a man, as far as nature was concerned, but as far as soul was concerned, he was one hundred percent woman. Many people after meeting him, usually mistake him for a woman due to his build and voice. He doesn't have breasts or anything like that, but people usually associate a voice like his, in addition to makeup, to be a female. His real name was Arnold, but at a very young age, he got into Edgar Allen Poe poems, and derived the moniker Annabelle from them. It was a bad idea to slip up and accidentally call him Arnold. Despite what he looked like and sounded like, Annabelle was probably the craziest out of us all.

"Well Annabelle, he's all yours, we'll stay outside and wait for you," I said.

"So the little fagot hater is in here? This is gonna be fun, I'm looking forward to this," Annabelle replied.

"I bet you are, have a good time."

Annabelle went into the room, and within seconds Joe was already crying like a little girl. Tyrone and I waited outside, and winced at every agonizing scream. We weren't sure what Annabelle was doing, but we were sure that whatever it was, it wasn't pretty. Annabelle was as creative as he was brutal, which was a bad combination if you were on his bad side. After a few minutes, Annabelle came out of the room, with a huge smile perched on his face.

"Damn man, what did you do to him?" Tyrone asked.

"Oh, he's such a little bitch, I just cut his nipples off," Annabelle answered, as if it were no big deal.

"That's fucked up homey!" Tyrone shouted.

"Did you steal that from Pink Floyd's The Wall?" I asked.

"I've never even seen that," Annabelle replied laughing. "Well, I'm going back to bed. A princess needs her beauty rest. I'll see you boys in the morning."

Annabelle went back upstairs, and Tyrone and I went back into the room to finish our interview. We walked in and winced at the level of blood coming from where Joe's nipples used to be. We eventually shrugged it off, and I couldn't help but laugh. Joe was crying, and I did my best to continue on.

"Well Joe, I see you and Annabelle got pretty well acquainted. Let's continue the interview shall we? We've heard your stances on race, and homosexuality. Now let's ask about another topic, how do you feel about immigrants?"

"Fuck! What if I just don't answer the question!? What happens then!?"

"Well, then you'll be completely useless to us, and we'll have to kill you," I answered. Joe hesitated and tried to think of his answer. He knew he was in for some sort of punishment either way.

"Well, fuck it. I guess being honest is the easiest way out of this bull shit isn't it? Okay, I fucking hate immigrants. They come here and take all our fucking jobs, and I can't understand the damn fucked up Spanish, or whatever the fuck language they speak, from whatever country their from. I hate their accents, and I think they need to stay in their own fucking country."

"Ah, that's interesting Joe. Tyrone, could you go get Lita for me?" I asked.

"Be right back," Tyrone said as he left the room. Maybe a minute passed before Tyrone returned with Lita at his side. Lita was holding a staple gun and knelt down right in front of Joe, staring him dead in the face.

"So, you're the motherfucker who hates immigrants? Well, I'll tell you a little story. I can't guarantee it will change your mind, but it will be important for later. A Mexican couple lived in the Tepito section of Mexico City. It is quite possibly the worst section of the city, where robberies and drugs are most prominent. The woman, her name was Mariana, decided it was time to leave the city life, because she had recently discovered she was pregnant, and felt it would be best to leave the city to raise her child. Juan, he husband, agreed and suggested they leave for America to start their new lives. They gathered up everything they needed and one faithful night, they crossed the border. They found a job picking vegetables for a farmer, and the farmer gave them a place on his land that they could stay in. They weren't the only people living on the farm, there were others, women, children, young and old alike. They all lived in a total of three shacks, not much bigger than a child's room. There were a total of twenty six of them living there, and the farmer payed each of them a total of twenty five cents a day. The couple had their baby, and a few years later, they had another baby. Making a grand total of twenty eight people living on the farm. One day, one of the workers decided they weren't making enough, and that they needed better living conditions. So what did the farmer do? He called the INS on them, and had them all deported back to Mexico. The couple seen what was coming and ran away with their children. They lived on the streets for many years, but they all stayed alive because of their love for one another. Juan eventually found a good paying job, and even became a full blown citizen, as did Mariana, but they never forgot how bad the white asshole farmer tried to fuck them. It was a lesson none of us forgot. I may have been young, but I'll never forget running through the fields that day. So, in honor of that asshole, and this occasion, I'd like to give you the same number of staples in your forehead, as my parents made on a daily basis."

Lita moved in and started to staple the man's head. Tyrone and I winced at every pop of the staple gun, slowly counting to twenty five as she went. When she was done, Joe was crying his eyes out, praying to God to make it stop. God never shows up when you need him, which is another reason why I don't believe in Him. Lita left the room after shouting a few cuss words in Spanish at Joe.

"Well Joe, how do you feel?" I asked laughing.

"Pretty fucking shitty!" he yelled back.

"Ah, that's the answer I was expecting. So, I only have one final question Joe, and that's this: What do you think we could do to make this great country of ours a better place to live?"

"Get rid of the fucking psychos like you!" Joe shouted back.

"Ah, the psychos like me? I don't think I'm a psycho Joe. No, I think I'm quite sane in fact. I'm just doing what any concerned citizen would do if they wanted to make a difference. There are a lot of us who feel like its taken too long for something like this to happen. People like me are the problem? No, its people like you. Racist, white, bigots who think the whole fucking country is there's just because of the color of their skin. If it was up to me, people like you wouldn't even be allowed to reproduce. How old is your daughter Joe?"

"She's four," Joe answered.

"Good, she's still young. When you go home, I want you to raise her the exact fucking opposite that you were. You teach her that all people, regardless of their differences are to be treated with respect. I'll be honest though Joe, I'm not sure if I can trust you with that task. This little incident right here will either make you hate other cultures and views even more, or you'll gain some respect out of fear. I'm honestly not sure which will happen, so, I have to make a decision on the future of the Barnes family. Honestly, I don't think you should have any more kids. I'm no doctor Joe, and I can't exactly perform a vasectomy, but I can cut you're balls off, and I think that's what I'm about to do."

Joe screamed as loud as he could, pleading for me not to as I grabbed the bolt cutters from before. I positioned myself behind the camera before giving my final speech for our future internet sensation.

"We are the New Union, and these are the consequences for crossing us. We are everywhere, and we are not afraid. We are always watching, so remember that the next time you decide to hate someone for being different than you. We will not accept close mindedness. This is a revolution, and it will be televised. This is only the beginning... Have a beautiful day."