The Wicked Witches of the Right

Am I Alive?

To Whomever This May Concern,

ALIVE!!  OH HOW HAPPY I AM TO BE ALIVE!
    But I'm sure you don't wish to get stuck in my sappy sea of emotions.  So I will do my best to tell you what happened just moments ago.

Finally, after about ten minutes, I made it to the doorway at the end of the hallway.  I was possessed, I knew the answers lie behind this door.  An orange light seeped through the cracks.  My determination must've caused whatever force was erecting this hallway's length to submit; their spells are only so lasting.  I was beating this particular spell at its own game.
    I opened the door...
    BLIND! was I... only for a moment.
    Then my eyes adjusted to the bright orange haze saturating the room.
    They sat in perfect horizontal alignment.  Thirteen of them, staring the iciest stare, eerie with perfect coordination.  Six males, seven females, all wicked.
    They were finely dressed, uniform grey suits perfectly matching, except the lady at the front of the room.  Each had black hair and white skin.  They wore stern faces; wide eyes, furrowed brows.  There was something incredibly familiar about them, but I couldn't place it.  Most strange was that they all sat on the right side of the room at a rectangular table, not a roundtable facing each other each other as you'd expect. 
The left side of the room was a gallery of graphic paintings depicting mutilation and death.  I don't know my art history, so I couldn't name any of them, but one struck me as most frightening since it featured dozens of men and women suffering in horrible ways: cannibalism, boiling in a cauldron, freezing to death.
Down the middle in the background was a large window overlooking the sea, which had grown to fill more than three-quarters of the very Empire State Building I stood in.  It was terrifying.  Not any more than these wicked witches to my right.
These weren't witches with magic books or fiery cauldrons, but with powers generated through an evil collective conscious.  I apologize if the word "evil" becomes superfluous, there's just no other way to describe the feeling I get when locking eyes with these bastards.
I declared them the Wicked Witches of the Right.  In a moment, I'd find out just how right my title was...
"Why have you done this?" I cried.
They each spoke, one after the other:
"KIKES"
"CHINKS"
"NIPS"
"FLIPS"
"SPICS"
"GYPS"
"NIGGERS"
"FAGGOTS"
"RETARDS"
"YELLOWS"
"REDS"
"DYKES"
"GOOKS"
"SQUAWS"
What an appalling revelation.  Each of the thirteen spoke such dreadful slander that I was tempted to use every might of strength to wipe each of their mouths clean.  But I had to contain myself, their powers were superior. I didn't want to make any wrong moves and risk abandoning Odysseus.
"We've been expecting you Mr. Kike," said the first male witch (do we call him warlock?). Mr. Kike?
"You wish to hurt us, don't you?" the first female asked.
This particular bitch- witch- was at the forefront of the tribe. She appeared to be their leader, wearing a venerable tulled black garb with red vestments hanging from her shoulders. Her hair was long, deep black, her face pale as a ghost.
I wanted to tell them how much I'd like to hurt them, but I had to play it cool with Odysseus waiting. Plus, I wanted answers. I again asked, "why in God's name have you done this?"
"CURSE YOU DEVIL!" the second male exclaimed.
"DO NOT SPEAK THE LORD'S NAME IN VAIN!" the second female yelled. Does she mean my "God" or his "Devil?"
How could they be serious? All the evil they'd caused and horrible words they used and they were yelling about language. Hypocritical bastards.
The leader rose from her seat, stepped forward, and said, "It is you who have brought evil here Mr. Kike, my dearest."
Enough of this Mr. Kike thing, really.
"If not for people like you," she continued, "this world would be safe from the evil that spreads. You have taken part in electing evil to dictate our land. You have influenced many innocent souls to do the devil's work."
I'm evil? Are they on the devil's side or not? Am I supposed to capitalize D in devil?
Then I began to remember where I'd seen these faces before. I almost fell over. These thirteen witches were- damn! It's so hard to write, too ridiculous to believe. Either they bore a stunning resemblance, or they were in fact...
REPUBLICANS!!!
Yes, New York Republicans who all lost on Election Day. I remember their faces now. Sore losers.
I wish I could tell you this was all just a nightmare, but dreams don't last forty days. This was my reality. Or maybe I'd died and gone to Hell.
"You will go back to the surviving few who think like you and spread the word of God," the third male said.
What God were they talking about?  Jackasses like this always put a bad spin on God. They turn the concept into a hateful creature and make spiritualists look like monsters by association.
Everything the Staten Island wise man said made sense now. Before he went off on that tangent, it sounded like he was talking about politicians. He spoke of people whose lives centered on achieving God-like status with mystical powers.  Political witches, amazing! All Republican too. Who'd have thunk it? I thought maybe there'd be at least one corrupt Democrat on the board. I guess checking off 'D' across the ballot isn't an irresponsible move after all, hah!
    Now everything was becoming clear. The words they spoke when I first entered the room were no longer shocking, just typical. This was an evil (you can play a drinking game with this word) plot developed by Republicans to wipe out and restart civilization the way they wished to see it. They were trying to play the role of God. And I could not let them succeed. I had to use my wits.
    "How long have you been here?" I asked the leader.
    "Forty days under cover, you know this," she responded. "By nightfall, the world will be rid of the evil (drunk yet?) that has been growing for so long now."
    "That's it, you're going to wipe everyone out and expect to rebuild from just thirteen of you?"
    "We have our exceptions."
Exceptions?
    Immediately, I realized she must be referring to those wretched beasts at the Chrysler Building. All the pieces were starting to fit. They too were Republicans, only they weren't witches, more like spellcast demons. They were programmed to protect the Empire State Building from masses finding safe haven. But they might divert individual wanderers, like myself, towards the witches as a kind of sacrificial lamb, or some object for a ritual that involved lots of preaching and soul-sucking. I knew my getaway from the beasts was too easy; they could've had me if they intended, and my little dog too.
    Readjusting my focus, I asked, "why have you chosen to remain here all this time?"  I was trying to buy some time while thinking what to do next.  My poor pup, out there all by himself - I had to get back to him.
    The leader went into a long, boring, predictable speech about the rituals they performed here and the safety which this building's height provided.  But as she spoke, I reflected upon an ancient witch myth.  Maybe these Republicans were powerful, but dumb.  Maybe they'd plentifully amassed the very matter that could destroy them, their own worst enemy: water.  At least that's how the myths portrayed it, but then I couldn't remember where I'd gotten that from.  I just assumed it was true since I thought of it.  Whether it was correct or not remained to be seen, but at this point I was damn willing to find out.  She had said "forty days under cover."  Was this a slip of the tongue, revealing her weakness?  What a great obstacle they'd set for themselves if the myth were true.  Imbeciles. 
    After the leader finished her pointless speech, I prepared to make my move.  I was to dash quickly out the door, run frantically down several flights of stairs, get to my boat, grab a bucket full of water, and drench the Republicans with their own poison.  This would not be easy, required great speed.  But this was a point of no return.  How could I fail?  Look at what the world had come to.  Any attempt was better than none at all.
    There had been, for a moment or two, an awkward silence in the room.  The other witches held their gaze as I clearly seemed to ignore every word the leader was saying.  No time...
    WHOOSH! to the door...
DAMN!  It slammed shut and locked.  They were powerful witches indeed.  Hopefully stupid.  But my plan was already in jeopardy.
    All thirteen stood up and began to approach me at the door as I backed away in fear.  Their eyes glowered, they looked thirsty, like a vampire after it's prey.  But they moved slow, giving me plenty of time to think.  Why do creepy things always move slow? 
    Ah!  I remembered an old saying: "the greatest weapon is the ability to laugh in the face of your enemy."
    I admit, my attitude towards them was condescending, but despite their power, I couldn't believe that such horrible witches were anything more than morons.  Thinking how stupid they must be, I drew a bit of a chuckle, catching them off-guard. 
    It was working.  I had to think of more.
    My mind worked frantically.  Water - they choose water to kill people, which will counteract on them.  Not enough men to satisfy the women.  Well, a man can screw two different women, it doesn't have to be even, more pleasure to go around, but doesn't that contradict the traditional family values they preach?  Speaking of contradictory, God says murder is a sin - they just did a lot of that. 
    There were a dozen more contradictions welling up inside, and it turned to laughter.  I was laughing so hard my arms started flailing around, and they backed away.
    PARALYZED! they were.  Their eyes sunk back in horror, shock, disgust, insult, slight, defeat, repulsion!  I loved myself.
    They lost hold of their spell on the door.  It flew open, and I ran for it.  Down the flight of stairs, to my boat.  I looked behind me - the witches had snapped out of it and were quickly approaching.
    Down on the level where my boat was docked, the witches caught up so fast that only a few yards separated our distance.  How does it always happen that villains walk, victims run, and villains catch up?  It was now or never.
    I dove from a window frame at the end of the hallway into the filthy water and swam for my boat.  I quickly slipped inside - Odysseus was right where I left him.  How much longer would he be safe? 
    I needed a bucket to try what I was banking on working; there was no plan B.  The commingle garbage can would do.  I quickly emptied it.  I apologized to Odysseus for a glass bottle landing in his food, but I was in a rush - I was sure he understood. 
    I slipped out of the boat...
    But there they stood in all their wicked glory, the thirteen Republican witches in the open window frame where I'd jumped.  My path was blocked, I was entrapped to my boat.  Behind me, hundreds of possessed demons, summoned from the Chrysler Building, treaded in the water.  These poor souls could be saved if only I could reach into the water, scoop up enough liquid, and toss it onto the witches before they could stop me.  But the witches clearly had the high ground.  Any sudden flinch could result in disaster.
    "Just what did you plan to do with that Mr. Kike?" the leader asked with a smile.
    I could feel steam coming out of my ears.  How much I wanted to smack that smug smile off her face.
    I attempted to laugh it off.  But the witches weren't falling for it this time.  They could sense that the laugh was not genuine, there was fear and anger behind it.  I anxiously tried remembering some of the humor that came to me before.  But I had laughed it all out.
    I was in total dismay.
    I thought, and thought, and I thought... no conclusions.  They held their gaze, not making a single motion.
    And then I asked myself, just how stupid can a Republican be?  I was willing to find out.
    The time came, and not a moment too soon.  No going back...
    "HEY LOOK!" I cried, "A FAGGOT!"  My finger was directed at the hallway behind them.  Their eyes quickly followed as they turned back, snarling agitated.
    "Where?" I heard one of them ask as I quickly filled the commingle garbage can with water.  "I don't see it!"
    They turned back to me, just in time to face a sea of their own poison pouring down upon them.
    "VICTORY!" I shouted.
    I watched, waited - nothing happened.  They stood there, drenched, exactly what happens when a bucket of water falls on you, nothing else.
    "What the hell are you doing?" the fourth male witch asked.
    "Is that supposed to be the Wizard of Oz or something?" the third female witch asked, laughing.
    For fuck sake, that's where I got that from.  Dorothy killed a dream witch, not a real one... Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!  What have I done?  A tidal wave generated from this apocalyptic storm couldn't match the wave of embarrassment surging through my body at this moment.
    After their round of Dr. Evil laughs died down, they pulled wands from their back pockets.  Taking aim at my boat, they chanted some tongues I couldn't understand, and before you knew it, I was in a hovercraft swiftly approaching them eye-level.
    "Now Mr. Kike, suppose you tell us just what you'd like to do with us," the leader sneered. 
    Impatiently, I pleaded, "would you please stop calling me that?  My name is Noah T. Eisenstein."
    "Exactly my point Steiny Hymie.  I prefer Kike for my own ease," the leader persisted.  "Now if you don't mind, we should be getting on to bigger business.  You are just what we need.  Willful, skillful, a true leading man.  The survivors will want a man like you, and we don't intend to disappoint them."
    "You won't get anything out of me.  Justice will be done or the heavens will fall."
    They let out a good laugh.  Cut short by the zap of her wand against my collar bone, sending me back on my ass.  Odysseus barked, revealing his presence. 
    "And what is this adorable creature we have here?" the leader asked piercingly.
    "You don't lay a damn finger on him."
    She held her hand out, as if using the Force.  Odysseus was pulled off his harnass and into her hands.  Witch or Sith?  I don't get it.
    "Very well Mr. Kike, we have what we need.  You are free to go."
    "What?"
    "He doesn't understand," female witch four said.
    "It's ok Mr. Kike.  We are saying it's ok, you are free to go," leader insisted.
    "You're not taking Odysseus.  Not now, not anytime, not in all my lifetimes."
    They all laughed again.  "It has a name?" leader asked.
    "But it's just a dog," male witch five said.  "We throw dogs out the side of moving cars."
"And leave them in plastic bags on roadsides," female witch five said.
"We make a killing on kill shelters," female witch six said.
"He's the love of my life," I snapped back, before grabbing him out of the leader's hand, "and you'll have to kill me if you want him."  I must've been out of my mind, but there was no way I could let them harm my little guy.  What did they want with him?
"What kind of misguided minion would sacrifice themself for a dog?" leader asked.
"Odysseus is more than just a dog.  He's the first thing you wake up to in the morning and the last thing you see before you fall asleep.  He's always there, always loving, never grows old of you, never stops wanting to play with you.  He endures the good and bad times, faces your obstacles, journeys alongside wherever you go.  He's the one person who will never give up on you, no matter what."
Some of the other witches began to get queasy.  "Person?!" one of them shouted.
"What's the matter with you all?" leader asked.
"Odysseus is the part of life people like you could never understand.  You see an animal in him, but you don't see the animal in you.  You don't see a spirit in him, but you think spirits protect you.  There are only evil (swig) spirits surrounding you.  Odysseus is blessed with the kindest, loving, protective spirits, and nothing is going to harm him."
The leader waved her wand, but at that moment I smacked it out of her hand.  The boat dropped back into the water. She leapt into the boat.  The others continued to get worse, coughing, vomiting, keeling over.
Eureka!  I figured it out.  It was love, they were completely averse to it.  No wonder they setup shop in this city, they could easily accomplish their goal without a shred of real love in sight.  They weren't as dumb as I thought. I immediately hovered over Odysseus, forming a shield around him.  "You'll have to take me."
"You'd never sacrifice yourself for a dog!" she screamed.
"I will."
"Then..." she reached out, the wand floated to her hand.  She held her hand into the air, a bolt of lightning came down, charging the wand --
"...die!" she pulled her arm down to crack the electric whip across my hovered body, but her hand wouldn't move down.  It was stuck.  "I SAID DIE!"
"You want death?  You're gonna get it bitch!" I said with total badassery before smacking her arm with an oar, discharging the lightning in the direction of her puking friends.  They were fried, and she had no control of the lightning.  Her body shook with high voltage, there was nowhere for her to go.  But my boat was probably not the safest place either.
I grabbed Odysseus, our bag, and leapt from the boat, clinging on to the window frame and pulling myself back into the Empire State Building.  I looked behind to catch one last glance at my boat, my ark, before it fried to smithereens.  That would be the end of our adventure.