#Lying Scumsuckers

[originalleftist]

Lol, I just had some loser (maybe paid troll) tell me that supporting a two state solution means you want to genocide Palestinians.

Like, they do know that one of those states would be a Palestinian state, right?

Except its pretty clear that most such people (when they aren't flat-out fascist bots or paid trolls) don't really care about Palestinian lives, and I increasingly doubt that they actually want a Palestinian state either. The point is that in their narrative, the only way to oppose Palestinian genocide is to support the genocide of Israelis/Jews. Therefore, they can advocate for the war to continue, sacrificing ever-more Palestinian lives in the cause of destroying Israel and murdering Jews, while still self-righteously calling themselves "pro-Palestinian", and anyone who opposes them a genocidal fascist- when of course that's exactly what they themselves are.

The only question with any individual dipshit is the degree to which they are aware that this is what they're doing, as opposed to being Useful Idiots led by the nose by those who are.

I replied by quoting Orwell's "War is peace. Freedom is Slavery. Ignorance is strength." from 1984 at them, but I doubt they were either well-educated enough to know the reference, or intelligent enough to grasp its meaning, either in isolation or in relation to their narrative.

[lackablazeical]

Addams! AU Snippet 6: 'Freakshow'

FULL CREDIT TO WRITER NewFallenLeaves ON A03!!!!!! SHE MAKES KILLER ANGST AND FLUFF ALIKE, CHECK OUT ALL HER WORKS!!!! NOW!!!!! IF YOU LOVE OR CARE ABOUT ANYTHING, DO IT. NOW. BEFORE I GET U /J

As usual, art to add on! It was a 1 layer challenge I gave up on partway thru, mostly just cus I wanted to be done with it, lol! Greyscale is always so fun, tho!

Full snippet below the cut! ⬇️⬇️⬇️

---

“Hold still, you little scumsucker.” As the burly human patted Mikey down, he came up quickly with two small daggers tucked into Mikey’s belt, as well as the ones hidden in the holster at the small of his back. “Shit, kid, how many more knives have you got, huh? Cough ‘em up.”

“Well,” said Mikey, “There’s the whole family with Mr. Stabby, and Miss Gashy, and the Puncture Brothers, and Auntie Slicer, and–”

The pile of small blades was already over half-a-dozen strong, and the man still managed to find three more.

“Oh, no!” Mikey wailed as the last one hit the table. He twisted against the tight ropes that bound his wrists behind his back, “You’re going to take all of them?”

“We know who sent you, we’re not taking any chances.” Finally satisfied, the man hauled Mikey none-too-gently by the elbow and dragged him out of the covered wooden cart that served as the freak show’s ‘office.’

The small encampment was reminiscent of a traveling gypsy convoy, with colorfully painted covered wagons. Some were cages for “FEARSOME GRUESOME MUST-SEE MUTANTS” with bold-lettered signs and warnings to stay back. Others were smaller, with striped awnings and shelves of cheap merchandise or galleries of rigged carnival games, with “STEP RIGHT UP AND TAKE A CHANCE” invitations for any fool willing to throw away hard-earned coin.

The heavy-set human dragged Mikey toward one of the larger cage carts. “Gonna put you someplace where you’re too worried about stayin’ alive to think about running off or causin’ trouble.”

He stopped in front of the enclosure. It looked as sparse and uncomfortable as any of the other terrible accommodations in the traveling freakshow. Unadorned iron bars, no straw or hay strewn for the mutant held within. The guard shoved Mikey through and slammed the cell door behind him.

Mikey tumbled onto the grated metal floor, lying prone while he waited for the man’s footsteps to fade. As soon as everything was silent, he flipped upright. From the corner of the cage came a low, throaty growling, and the occupant of the cell rose to his feet.

Even hunched, the alligator mutant was massive. Four times Mikey’s size. Larger than Raph, even, and little else save teeth and muscle.

“Don’t be…alarmed.” Every word the alligator spoke was slow and deliberate. “I…won’t harm you.”

“I know!” said Mikey. “I made Donnie do research on everything before I came.”

“You…know?”

“Woulda been pretty stupid for me to run in here without knowing everything about this lame-o sideshow. Besides, getting details is easy. It was supposed to add to Mama’s Spectacle Spectacular, after all. She bought it. And it woulda been such a cool thing, too! Everybody loves her circus, she has all the nicest hotel rooms for her performers, and you get to eat at the buffet, and the bar is open all night, and–”

“You…don’t seem…concerned,” said the alligator. “Were you…not poached…like the rest of us?”

“Ha! Nobody could poach me if they tried. Know how much Donnie has to add to his tranq formula to knock me out? Betcha don’t, because it’s a lot. I have resistance.” With a quick roll of his hips and shoulders, Mikey twisted his bound hands from behind his back and hopped over them like a backward jump rope. “Boy, am I glad they put me in here, you’re my first choice, anyway.”

“For…what?”

“For helping, of course! These humans turned out to be a bunch of dirty, no-good, double-crosser, deal-breaker cheaters, and they took Mama’s money and tried to cut and run. So now Mama wants me to burn the whole thing to the ground! Isn’t that great?! Anyway, are you good with pulverizing all the stuff? Because Raph didn’t wanna come, he was busy watching the Mrs. Cuddles’ Puppets-in-Peril Halloween Specials marathon. So if you could go ahead and do all the smashing, that would be awesome.”

“…smashing?”

Instead of replying, Mikey stuck out his tongue as he reached for a spot on the back of his neck, just below the rim of his shell. He withdrew a short, narrow length of sharpened metal, and proceeded to cut through the ropes.

“You managed…to sneak in a weapon,” the alligator marveled.

“Pffft,” said Mikey. “He only took my knives. This is my shiv.”

With his hands free, Mikey took a moment to stretch like a dancer before a routine. Then he promptly flopped down into a sitting position, legs crisscrossed. He set the shiv down on the floor of the cage and began pulling random assorted items out from non-existent pockets in his clothing and lining them up. “I still got lots of good stuff, see? This is my bolo, and this is my garrote, and this is my ice pick, and this is my can opener, and this is my bookend, and this is my cherry pitter, and this is my…”

The alligator watched as Mikey continued unabated. He blinked slowly at each new addition to the stockpile, his face becoming more and more skeptical as the items became less and less…perilous. When Mikey placed a penny down, he finally spoke.

“What…exactly…do you intend to accomplish…with a coin?”

“Ooooo, goody, I’m glad you noticed, I like this one.” Mikey flipped the penny with his thumb and caught it between his fingers. When he held it up to the light, the sharpened edge all around its circumference gleamed. “We’ll use it first!”

He tugged loose a lacing from the knee of his pants and looped it around the penny. Then he stood, approached the bars of the cage, took a deep breath…and began shrieking.

“HELP HELP MISTER JAILER GUY, I’M SCARED I DON’T WANNA GET EATEN BY AN ALLIGATOR!” Mikey twisted and rammed his shell against the bars to make even more noise. The camp echoed with resounding, repeated clang-clang-clang. “LEMME OUT LEMME OUT LEMME OUT OH PLEASE OH PLEASE!”

Several of the freakshow guards were on ‘patrol,’ roaming the perimeter of the camp. One who was nearby didn’t exactly come running, but he did seem annoyed and stepped quickly in the direction of the cage. “Shut up, kid. The more you screech the faster that freaking monster’s gonna chomp on you, just to get the goddamn noise to sto–”

The guard’s yells pitched up into a howl as a razor-edged penny, launched like a slingshot, lodged in his eye.

“What’s wrong?! What’s wrong?!” a fellow guard hurried up to assist him.

Mikey grinned as he picked up another weapon from his cache, aimed it between the bars, and punched a button.

Two metal barbs pierced the second man’s chest and an electrical current lit up his entire frame with sparks. He collapsed to the ground, convulsing.

“That’s my taser,” Mikey said. He reached through the bars and fished a keyring out of the guard’s pocket and quickly released the lock. He jumped onto the cage door and rode it as it swung open, dropping the taser in the dirt beside the unfortunate human, current still running.

“Come on, mister—ah–” Mikey craned his neck to look at the advertisement emblazoned across the top of the cage, “--Lethal Leatherhead! Smashy-smash, while I torch everything!”

Tentatively, Leatherhead stepped out of his enclosure. “You wish…to burn everything? With what…?”

But Mikey had already withdrawn a liquid-filled bottle from some hidden pocket in his coat. He drew a long, silken scarf from his glove by sleight of hand, flicked it to catch the flame on the tail of his mask, and then stuffed the burning wick into the neck of the bottle. “Molotov cocktail!”

He flung the bottle through the window of the largest wagon. The resulting explosion blew out the remaining glass, and Mikey dashed forward to intercept as guards raced to escape the inferno.

“What the hell is going o–”

“Machete!”

The man who had unluckily blundered closest to him gurgled, the handle blooming from his throat.

“Clothespins!”

Another guard screeched and flailed as two small wooden clips were driven into his eyes.

“Lanyard!”

Strangled gagging.

“Teacup!”

Wailing.

Leatherhead watched from the open door of his enclosure as Mikey continued his spree, shrieking the name of every item he produced and laughing maniacally as he dashed from one victim to the next.

A rhinoceros mutant in the cage next to his leaned towards the bars. “Friend of yours?”

“If it will convince him…to not jam a small kitchen tool down my throat…” Leatherhead ripped apart the hinges on the rhino mutant’s cage, “...then I will readily be his friend.”

The screech of “Rice paddle!” and a subsequent choking sound echoed across the grounds. Both mutants cringed.

“...rice paddle. Sure.” The rhino tagged along after Leatherhead as he moved to next cage. As that door bashed open, a warthog mutant jumped free and clasped hands with the rhino. They jostled briefly before turning to flee into the night. “Good luck with your crazy friend.”

“Bottlecap!” Mikey cackled from somewhere across the camp. “Stapler!”

Wet, squelching thumps and more screams.

A gangly mutant with mantis-like arms lounged near the door of his enclosure, watching Leatherhead expectantly. “That kiddo yous got over there has the right idea, I say,” he drawled.

Leatherhead nodded. “Fist,” he said. And punched the cage.