Parsons is very jealous of Karl's success as an activist for all the povs living on council estates to look up to and decides to write his own book to rival him. Unfortunately, things don't quite go as expected in his quest to save the rich from bei...
A week had passed since Parsons and Durkheim had made the infamous discovery. He still couldn't believe that Karl was coming all the way to the US to spread his infectious disease known as Marxism to all the poor, innocent American citizens. What had they done to deserve such a deplorable fate? Parsons wanted to take this opportunity to show this overhyped git who's boss. The world didn't need more lying, thieving bastards like him. I suppose you could say what Parsons was really wanting deep down was an ethnic cleansing, except instead of another angry man with a funny moustache control alt deleting a group of people with different viewpoints- oh wait yeah nevermind that's exactly what he wants lol.
No matter how many attempts he made trying to get those tickets, he still couldn't get past the 'I'm not a robot' page. However, if you thought this would put an end to his goal then you'd be gravely mistaken love. This only fuelled his burning passion and desire even further. And he'd come up with the perfect plan to sneak in. Unfortunately, he also couldn't manage to convince Durkheim to become a dirty crime boy with him, apparently he'd much rather stay at home and rave about social solidarity whatever the fuck that is.
The time to put his plan into action was becoming closer and closer, it wasn't long before he planned to leave. His disguise was impeccable, dressed head to toe in black latex. The suit also came with a funny mask with a great big hole in the front. Parsons assumed it was for a professional hot dog eating contest, what else could a hole that size fit inside it? When he showed Durkheim a few days earlier, he did nothing but laugh at Parsons' blissful unawareness until he collapsed onto the floor. Parsons wasn't going to take any shit from someone with his fashion sense though, what does he know? Strange that it didn't have any eye holes though...
Grabbing his list of shite to take on his adventure, Parsons began stuffing things in his bag. Manuscript, pins to pick any locks, his lucky crowbar, a lighter and a spliff to calm his nerves. And with that, he took a deep breath and headed off to the arena where Karl would be speaking.
Usually it wouldn't take that long to walk there, but looking the way he did, Parsons knew he would have to take the long way through various alleyways. The minute someone saw him, they were bound to the called the police. Not because he looked like he was about to break into someone's house, because the area had a strict 'keep kinks away from the public eye' rule. Of course, Parsons had no idea what the suit he was wearing was actually used for, but every so often when he passed someone they'd give him a quick, concerned glance then giggle to themselves.
By the time he'd reached the venue, hundreds of people had gathered at the entrance, queuing up to feast their eyes upon the almighty communist king himself. Too many people here, he'd have to sneak around the back entrance ;). It's a good thing nobody could recognise him under the blanket of darkness, otherwise next time he'd be the one being hunted down and strung up in the city centre for all to witness and laugh at.
Reaching into his bag, Parsons whipped out his lucky crowbar to pry the door open. It wasn't his first rodeo, he'd broken into plenty of establishments before for no particular reason, just for the thrill of it. It was Parsons' secret guilty pleasure, the rush of adrenaline, the latex suit tightly hugging his petite frame, the excitement of possibly being caught and punished aroused something within him. Yet another thing he'd never admit to anyone.
Unfortunately, Parsons had failed to anticipate the person guarding the other side of the door...
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It was Trisha Paytas!
Parsons recoiled back in pure utter shock. What was this transgender queen doing here on the other side of the back entrance to Karl Marx's show? He soon realised that coming this way was an extremely bad idea as he'd just walked in on Trisha posting nudes to her OnlyFans. She was also dressed up as an Ancient Egyptian for some reason... Turned out there was also some kind of fuck fest party being held in the backrooms of Karl's show, and Parson's had just walked straight into it.
"Loving the getup sweetheart, you look like a man who knows his place," Trisha strutted over to where Parsons had completely frozen solid, "how about you bury yourself in my donkey? You're my favourite honkey."
Parsons tried to take a step back away from her, only to be met with a wall blocking him from doing so, "Sorry no thank you! Can you tell me how to get to Karl's show? I think I came the wrong way..."
Trisha cackled and pressed herself against him, sandwiching Parsons between her and the wall, "So you're a Karl fanboy are you? I think you'd be much more suited to be my little fuck boy."
A wave of panic washed over Parsons, causing him to involuntarily poke her in the eye and slip out away from her. Trisha screeched in pain. "Oh go cry about it on your kitchen floor," said Parsons. And with that minor setback out of the way, he made his way through the sea of people tied up, bound and gagged, trying his best not to step on anyone's tail. Wack how many furries were there...
Suddenly, a voice boomed from behind him, "stop that gimp! Don't let him get away, he's mine!!" Parsons turned around to see Trisha hunched over clutching her eye, pointing straight at him.
"OwO, what's this?" All of the furries' head rotated in sync and glared at him before bounding towards him on all fours. Parsons yelled in sudden dismay, promptly making a break for it towards the door. Didn't matter how he got out, all he knew was that this ain't it chief. Parsons hastily pulled open the first door he came across, darting inside and slamming it shut. He could hear the hoard clawing and barking at the door from the other side, thankfully it had a lock on it. The animals remain in their cages, for now...
Parsons slid his back down the door, sighing out of a mixture of relief and fatigue when he hit the cold floor. That sure was something he'd never expected to happen, at least it'd make a funny story for the grandkids. "Furries, am I right fella?"
Parsons' head shot up to see whoever was speaking to him. His eyes widened in shock. It couldn't be... Could it be... Karl Marx?!
Karl ambled over to Parsons with his heavy gait, offering a hand to the man panting out of breath on the floor. For too many times to count that day, Parsons had no idea how to feel. This was the moment he'd been psyching himself up for. Dismissing the hand outstretched to him, he swiftly picked himself up from the ground and put on a brave face. "Mr Marx. Y-you're a fat bastard and I think your book is wank. Mine is a lot better."
Karl raised his eyebrow then roared in laughter. "Is that so? I think I should be the judge of that you silly little cunt." Parsons froze for a second before quickly reaching into his bag and pulling out the book. He thrusted it into Karl's chest, "B-baka..."
He watched silently as Karl skimmed through the pages, not making any facial expression to signify his opinions of it. It was an awkwardly long time before he said anything in response, until he finally spoke up, "you wrote this?" Parsons nodded, an audacious look plastered onto his face.
"It's shit."
Parsons' once bold expression melted into one of defeat, not quite sure of what to say. Should he retaliate? Should he just give up and not say anything? "Well, it was... an experience. Looks like I gotta shoot my load and hit the road for now, I'm needed elsewhere. Nice meeting you, gimp boy." Karl pivoted around to head for the exist, tossing the book into the bin behind him without any second thought.
As soon as he'd drifted off, Parsons erupted into a fit of rage. How dare he call his book shit?! This was unacceptable. In his head, Parsons had only imagined a world where either Karl felt threatened by his book or was in awe of it.
