The stunning finale to our reading of Ladies First: A MAGA Hat Romance. When patriot Mike rescues feminist Ricki from a post- Trump rally riot, the clash of opposites sets off sparks between them. But the gentleman giant refuses to leave the side of the spunky half-pint until he and his pickup truck deliver her home, safe and sound. Ricki attends the rally to scoop the racism of the Trump crowd in a blog post. But she's forced to spin a false narrative when her mistaken assumptions fail to materialize. When Ricki's lies get Mike doxxed, and his construction worksite becomes the target of anti- fascist thugs, his righteous anger forces her to reckon with the truth.Ricki wants to fix the damage and regain Mike's trust. But that means facing the wrath of the liberal mobs. Will Ricki find the courage to leave the left for a lifetime of old-fashioned true love? Support the show for only $3.11/mo at http://patreon.com/miniondeathcult to get instant access to this and hundreds of bonus episodes
In the front room sat her mother and father with grave faces.
On the sofa sat Mike, awkward and uncomfortable with his hands folded in his lap, tapping the pads of his thumbs together.
He looked at her as though she were something he could chew up and spit out.
Hello.
She kept her face mild as she addressed her parents.
Is this about your trip next week?
She could think of nothing else to say to ease the strangeness.
Her father cleared his throat and declined to address her question.
Ominous.
We've been talking to Mike.
He and Mike both nodded.
Men's curt nods of acknowledgement.
Masculine.
Purposeful.
Hell yeah.
Like, how the- I guess they're conservative too, so.
Cause like, shouldn't he be terrified right now?
Shouldn't who be terrified?
Everybody but Mike.
Oh, by his presence there?
Yeah.
Oh, well, they'll explain why he's so disarming.
But I just love how the nods they gave each other were masculine.
These were the real nods, okay?
None of that fake... It's the only nod I know, baby.
None of that play-acting shit that women and gays do to each other.
No, none of that.
That's the real kind of nod.
You know it when you see it.
I mean, I can't stand it when I meet somebody and they're clearly queer coding their nod.
I'm like, bro, you're faking it.
You don't even mean it.
You're just trying to get out of here.
You're trying to signal to me with your little queer coded nod?
Yeah, definitely trying to, like, I don't know, do male genocide with that nod, if you ask me.
We've been talking to Mike.
He and Mike both nodded.
Men's curt nods of acknowledgement.
This is like if your only experience with men is with movies, like John Wayne movies.
Yeah.
Masculine.
Purposeful.
And now we'd like to talk to you.
One chair that anchored the corner of the plush oriental carpet remained vacant.
It was a simple parlor chair.
The type meant to keep people from staying too long.
Rikki sat and waited.
Her mother held up a sheet of paper with typing.
Did you write this?
So beautiful.
That's a whole different issue by the way.
That's a whole different- your parents didn't know about your blog post?
This is like a whole different issue.
I love that she printed out the blog post.
That's going to be a theme in this book.
That's the most practical way to condemn someone with the truth, is to print it out on a piece of paper and then hand it to them.
Well, I mean, yeah, because you want to show them the truth.
You don't want to give them blue light exposure.
Did you make this meme?
He brandished a sogging piece of white printer paper at me.
Just like stretched beyond comprehension.
Did you write this?
Her anger growing by the minute Ricky took the page.
It was like middle school all over again when she'd been busted for some transgression or other.
Busted by the people she most cared about.
She wasn't certain if Mike belonged in the cared about category, but he was a nice man anyway and she'd used him under false pretenses for her own gain.
Yeah, she was jerking off to the thoughts of him.
That's what she was doing by using him for his own purposes.
Yeah, without his consent.
Which we know can cause psychic damage in empaths.
She better send him a tip.
And all he'd been to her was a decent human being.
Even more, he'd gone out of his way for her, kept her from harm when he didn't even know who she was, saved her from a savage mob, fed her, taken her into his home, and seen her safely back to this house.
Yeah, I already summarized this for the listener.
Let's move it along here.
Right now, she wished like hell she wasn't thinking these thoughts.
Mike came by an hour ago, her father said.
It seems this riding, this Petra's Parlance as you call it, has caused him quite a bit of trouble.
My job site!
Mike broke in.
Ricky noticed he was dressed in the same white shirt and work pants as the rally.
His boots, as heavy and lumbering as before, held him firmly in place.
lighter or smaller yeah it's it's wild that he still managed to pick himself up by those boot straps okay they're heavy his boot still heavy his boots as heavy and lumbering as before held him firmly in place or maybe his feet were just large Mmm.
Mm-hmm.
Mm-hmm.
Yeah.
When I look at somebody and I see them sitting down and they're wearing big boots, my immediate thought is, oh, maybe those boots are so big that he can't get up.
My second thought is, or maybe his feet are big.
Yeah, maybe he has big feet.
Maybe those are some new Balenciaga type.
Maybe he has big feet.
Maybe he's a chamber goth and is wearing some pondish boots.
Uh, yeah, no, those are actually really light.
They're actually the new Yeezy snow boots.
They're extremely comfortable.
You could wear them in the shower.
He glowered beneath bushy brows.
It's crawling with punks.
So his job site is.
He pointed to the paper in her hand.
The ones who, quote, saved you from me in that piece of crap fiction.
You lied!
You lied about me, about everyone, about the whole rally.
I kept you from getting hurt.
We ate dinner at the diner together.
Had coffee.
I brought you here to your parents' house because you didn't feel safe going back to your apartment.
Ricky's mom looked as if she wanted to cry.
Her father's face was a mix of anger and disbelief.
She couldn't look at Mike at all.
Mike walked over to her and showed her his phone.
Look, he said, here is my business.
On the screen was... I'm surprised he didn't print out a fucking photo of the people storming his business.
Yeah.
On the screen was a video of a mob of black-clad young males blocking an access point in a construction site fence.
Jack, the building's super, had just called her out for lying.
Now her parents and Mike, along with them, were confronting her with the truth.
She wished she didn't care.
She couldn't bear at this moment, and before these people, to admit she'd done wrong.
Even though it was staring her in the face.
They simply didn't understand what was at stake.
They could all go to hell.
She stood up.
So I suppose it's my fault you happen to be on the wrong side?
Mike shoved the phone into his pocket.
Wrong side?
I treated you with kindness.
You get me doxxed and I'm on the wrong side?
Ricky's father broke in.
If you deliberately besmirched Mike's reputation, that's evil, Ricky.
