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He lives with his mommy, Jean-Rose. His daddy, Darnell Prince Pitwool. And a dog named Armageddon.
Tommy’s home schooled. Living in Topelulu, Ala., famed sin-free domain of Lou “Lulu” Seldom’s Fracas in the Family Foundation. (An America-First town noted world wide for exporting biblically blessed peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.)
Little Tommy knows his ABCs. He can tell inferno red from damnation orange. He knows his shapes. Mostly manly. He can – after a fatherly paddling or two – crayon color inside the lines. A good child – if perhaps slightly menaced, but nonethless parently encouraged – he says his prayers at night. Or else.
“God bless Mommy, Daddy, Armageddon! May our misguided President see the light and leave the White House (which it’s really not) asap (however soon that is). Amen!”
Tommy is the model/subject of a kiddy book that’s sparking a helluva lot of controversy. It’s thoughtfully called, “Tommy Has Two Gay Thrashers,” written, illustrated, blessed-oil anointed by Rev. Dred Felch.
Rev. Felch, who raised his own totally obedient, totally Onward-Christain-Soldiers militant, eight kids to gay trash – starting with potty training (“as the spirit moves”) – says ‘Two Trashers” is written in a second grader’s Basic Word Vocabulary and has lots of action pictures and a punchy story line.
“My book’s designed to counter the horrific harm done by ‘Arthur Has Two Papas’, ‘Molly Has Two Mamas,’ ‘Bruce Has Six Neutered Poodles.’ While I’ll admit that I’m a no brainer at religious story telling. I do know how to cast the first stone at fag propaganda.
“I call chapter one, ‘Slingshoting Goliath’s Gay Agenda’. Other chapters – with content suitable for kids under five – are ‘Finding Someone Special to Bully, ‘Gay Playmates Won’t Go To Heaven,’ and ‘Don’t Let Mommy Dress You as A Nun (or Be Friends With A Touchy-Feelly Priest)’.”
While some gospel reviewers find Rev. Felch’s book ‘needlessly repetitious’, the Southern Baptist Goodness Only Knows Library Journal reports, “The pictures will make a lasting and indelible impression on Christian toddlers.” Two illustrations are singled out for evangelical merit: “Sinful Molly Gets Parboiled” and “Abandonned Arthur Meets the Iron Maiden.”
Topelulu’s gay activists (their life’s really hell on earth) are upset. They’ve been secretly checking out copies (or stealing them). Says one, “Rev. Felch can write anything he damn well pleases, but I wouldn’t read a book like this – no matter how many Bible quotes it has – to a five-year-old (even if he or she has his or her own library card).”
“I’ll admit it’s something of a problem,” says Topelulu head librarian Priscilla Red-Marker Renfrew, 89. “These gay agenda types have no respect for decent, church-going, fully dunked baptized readers. So far 25 copies of this simple sentence gem have disappeared. Poof!
“In the interest of fair play we’ve taken to keeping ‘Gay Thrashers’ under lock and key in our Mature Reader’s Lounge & Alcove, along with ‘Well of Loneliness,’ ‘Lolita,’ and ‘Stone Butch Blues’.
“As a God fearing woman who makes every Dewey Decimal count, I’ll say this – as Heaven above is my witness – it’s to the credit of the Topelulu Freefall Baptist Church – conveniently located where Falwell St. crosses Robertson Avenue at Billy Graham cul-de-sac, that church’s members have lovingly replaced every friggin’ gay-agenda swiped copy taken by those fruitcake fags.”
“The gospel truth is,” says Freefall pastor Emmett K. Monsooner, “those pervy clunkheads don’t want anybody, especially kids, to think for themselves. While my church load prevents spending time for a quality, down-home, soul-saving gay trash-in, if others want to do it, it’s between them and the Big Guy Upstairs. Just don’t mess up my choir robes. Or speak in LGBT tongues.”