Chapter Text
In every life, you'll see and hear influencers and whatnot on the Internet, on the streets, or in any place where there's a boss with underlings, who say things like 'Get off your ass and push through!' or 'Man up or don't play at all!' or 'Your emotions make you weak!' Those sayings have never been falser. Like the online LOLcow, akin to the modern-day freak show, these 'Alpha Males' are eccentric individuals who have become the subject of ridicule for their outlandish antics and erratic behavior. As the internet grew and politics changed, there was that one person who became the go-to strawman for every identity, ideology, and clique people latch themselves onto.
You'll probably hear characters in this story say shit like this, as well as extremely hateful language, instances of hate-driven and sexual violence, and child abuse. While the characters and incidents portrayed in this story are fictitious, this is not in any way an endorsement of child grooming, sexualization, trolling, stalking, or doxing. So, that's a warning for all the readers. The beliefs and words of some of the characters in this story do not reflect my own.
With all that said and done, let’s start from the beginning.
This is the story of a soul named Robert Leonard Anderson. From early on, he hated this name and used several others when he drew. He thought his name was too cliché, and some of the other names he used when he drew included softer names, like a nickname he would come to prefer, Bobby.
His parents were Archibald Anderson and Lauretta “Laurie” DeSantos. Archibald had English, German, Swedish, and Irish heritage. Lauretta, a Puerto Rican, had some Spanish and Portuguese ancestors, as well as Dominican and Haitian. Archibald was an Evangelical Protestant, and Laurie was Catholic, but their love story (or lack thereof) was loveless.
One evening, during a campout in Austin, Texas, Archibald was having a great party with his many redneck neighbors and friends around the fire, barbecuing steaks, drinking beers, and telling stories. Archibald and his buddies were having laughs as they roasted their lunch. It looked like any campout anywhere in America with the trucks, trailers, fire, and barbecue.
Archibald was a burly man, six feet, three inches tall, muscular in the chest and arms, but had a big beer belly. His face wasn't exactly attractive either. He had a five o'clock shadow, short, dirty blonde hair, and hazel eyes. He wore a black-and-red plaid flannel shirt left unbuttoned, washed-out blue jeans with dirt stains and char marks, a black belt with a bull engraved on a silver buckle, and brown steel-toe boots. His body was hairy all over and heavily laden with tattoos, including a Confederate flag tattooed on his upper left arm. He was the son of a chicken hawk who openly supported the Vietnam War but dodged the draft, and a housewife who put up with everything without question.
"Yeah, anyway, remember about that turkey I got on the plain, just in time before Thanksgiving day? The one I told you about?" Archibald said as he flipped a steak on the grill, checking the doneness. "It was the luckiest day of my life!" Many of the campers laughed and agreed. They seemed to remember what he was talking about. "And, amazingly, you managed to cook her to perfection that day!" said Kelley, one of his fellow campers. "Damn straight, Kelley," That one was fast, but it was fat enough to eat, and I managed to even lure it by mimicking the noise it makes!" Red, another one, put out his cigarette on his tray. "You learn from the best, you know that, Archie?" He said gruffly. "Thanks for that, Red," Archibald grinned as he flipped another steak on the grill.
Within minutes, the steaks were well done and ready. Archibald grabbed his tongs and put the steaks on paper plates for his friends. “Alright, come on and grab ‘em!” He shouted. “The steaks are high, high and ready for y’all!” They all stood up, stretched, and stepped up in a line to grab the steaks. They even got their knives, forks, and napkins, and sat in a square on their folding chairs, munching their steaks, chatting, and laughing.
As soon as they all finished their lunch, it was roughly 2:45 P.M., so they all packed their stuff into their trucks and trailers and pulled out of the campsite. Archibald climbed into his 2021 4x4 Ford F-150 pickup truck, which had a Reflection TT 345RLTS travel trailer hitched to the back. Pressing the "ENGINE START/STOP" button, the engine revved into life. Archibald was the last to leave camp with his truck's trunk and trailer sealed and packed. As he shifted the gear and turned off the brakes, a ping came from his phone. He fished it from his pocket and saw a text on the lock screen. It read: LAURETTA: "Where are you? You're two hours late!" Archibald scoffed and shook his head before rattling a text back to Lauretta. “Pull yourself together, woman!” and hit the “send” arrow.
He pulled out a flask from his breast pocket of his shirt, opened it, and took a swig, then began to pull out of the clearing, his truck pulling his trailer with him. He drove, the sun going down and down as he neared his destination in an hour. He pulled up in front of a large two-story house in one of the city's neighborhood sections. It was grandiose enough to consider Lauretta was either from or integrated into a big life compared to the impoverished rural redneck Archibald.
He pushed the engine button, and the car stopped running. He staggered out of the truck and walked briskly toward the front door. He rapped on the glass pane with his knuckle, and he was so sure he heard footsteps coming from the other side as he rubbed his face. The lock turned from the inside, and there stood Lauretta. She was tall, slim, and curvaceous. She had dark olive skin, brown eyes, and long, curly black hair in a ponytail. She wore a white camisole underneath a maroon zip hoodie, high-waisted bell-bottom jeans, and cork Birkenstock Papillio wedges. Her lipstick and nail polish were orange-red, and she also wore small silver hoop earrings in her earlobes and a silver bracelet on her right wrist.
Lauretta’s right hand was on her cocked hip, and her other was on the doorframe. “You’re three hours late,” she said curtly, “How long are you out on these camps without ever telling me? I expect being here on time, I specifically said when you and I settled-” Archibald put up a hand and stepped into the foyer. “I don’t have to be bothered with details when I’m around,” Archibald said coldly, “Don’t question my outings without the proper goddamn common courtesy I’m entitled to.”
“Hey-” Lauretta said firmly, “What have I told you about profanity in my house?”
“Do not cite your personal beliefs in my presence, Lauretta!” Archibald spat, the beer from his flask slurring his breath, “I’ve heard them a thousand times, and for the last time, I make the rules wherever I go. Now let’s-”
”Bull roar!” Lauretta said, standing tall and turning her back on him. “You wanted to get on with it, then let’s just do it, all right? But whatever happens, you pay for it, and that’s the end of it. I maintain my part of our pact, so you maintain yours.”
“Alright, fine,” Archibald said gruffly, “But don’t expect anything to come out as equals with what we’re making out of this deal. Because if I made what you have, after the things I read, and doing whatever you do, I’d be living a dream too.”
“Uh-huh. I get people pushing me to someone like you, and nothing is guaranteed to be forged out of mutual gain in this kind of matchup,” Lauretta said silkily. “I think that’s the only thing we can agree on.”
“And so it is,” said Archibald, as she led him inside the familiar house. Archibald didn’t need to dart his eyes around to see that he had been in here with Lauretta for a while. She got a bottle from the wine cellar and some glasses from the kitchen cupboard. Setting the glasses on the coffee table, she grabbed a corkscrew from the drawer, latched it into the cork, and pulled.
POP!
Of course, Lauretta didn’t always drink, but only on special occasions did she. She poured the glistening liquid into the glasses and took one, grasping it with her fingers.
“You don’t seem surprised that someone like me only drinks on special occasions,” she said, not raising an eyebrow.
“Not at all,” Archibald crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “You must uphold your principles quite well.”
“If I didn’t, I’d be living in a van like my dear old brothers,” the lady said, crossing her legs as she held her glass, sitting on the couch. “They didn’t believe in squat, none of them did. If they did, they would have the courtesy to be wise, and not fear everything that they don’t see.”
Archibald snickered quietly, then took the second glass and glanced at the sparkling liquid inside. He whiffed the drink’s aroma and then took a long sip of at least half of it.
“Find something amusing?” Lauretta said, raising an eyebrow.
“No, no, this is just my first glass of champagne, better than I thought.” Archibald exhaled, relishing and savoring the drink. “If it’s a first, you gotta savor each drop.” Silent tingles in his body, mixing with the beer he drank at camp earlier, began to change something inside as Lauretta stood up and took another light sip of her champagne. She set the glass back down and started to lead him from the sitting room to the foyer and up the stairs, leading down the catwalk to Lauretta’s room. Archibald took another gulp of champagne from his glass, finishing it, and then set it down before following her upstairs.
The master bedroom was a spectacle for sure, no denying it, a large queen-sized bed with silk sheets, standard and cylindrical throw pillows, nightstands on both sides, an old red and white clock, and the simple, ornate cedar dressers, a 4K flat screen TV, and mirrors on the sliding closet doors. The en-suite bathroom was also pristine, clean, and shiny, with the large mirror, white freestanding tub, and the white toilet and walk-in shower were just as well-kept. Fit for a young queen.
Saying Archibald was jealous couldn’t be overstated. He had only one — no, two — trailers: one was attached to his truck, and the other was a mobile home on the outskirts of town. While his truck's trailer was average at best, the main trailer was downright disgusting. The outside was rusty, and the inside reeked of cigarette smoke and cheap beer. Stains covered the wooden walls and carpeted floor, and the bed was always messy. There were only four rooms: the living room, the kitchen, the bedroom, and the bathroom. He went camping with friends, spending money on food, beer, and an expensive travel trailer. He also bought into the idea that women were automatically inferior to men, as taught by the Manosphere, and fell for get-rich-quick schemes that stole his money. But he was too blinded by these beliefs to see clearly. Because of the scam, he lost his old home and ended up in a trailer park, yet he kept watching social media videos that fed his narrow view of life. Lauretta, on the other hand, was a hard worker. She came from a family that started with little and worked hard to achieve a big dream. Her brothers didn't take that to heart like she did and ended up traveling in vans, their run-down homes.
When Lauretta stepped into the bathroom, the tingles spread through Archibald’s body, and he silently closed the bedroom door while he waited. The fuel igniting from his prior beer and the champagne now started to change more and more within him. “If there’s nothing to attain from mutual gain, someone ought to take the upper hand in this summation…” he thought to himself. He felt something else in another part of his body swell up. In his lower region, the erectile tissue began to swell, and he quietly undid his belt and slowly unzipped his jeans to check what he felt. When he lowered them quietly, he saw a bulge in his dirty boxer shorts; his shaft was growing.
In the bathroom, meanwhile, Lauretta was changing out of her hoodie, top, jeans, and wedges, leaving her only in her white halterneck bra and panties. She splashed warm water on her face, washing her facial cream off. She was getting on with her routine before something unspeakable her way would come...
Something that wasn’t part of their deal.