"Mr. Nixon. President Oswald would like to speak with you," said Chuckie Oswald's faithful black butler Sam over the phone.
The Chief Minister of the Manifest Destiny Party scowled and answered, "Fine, put him through."
"Hello? Dick?"
"That's my name, don't wear it out."
"Haha, that's a good one. Listen Nix, I'm going to be going away for a little while. To Oshkosh. Get some fresh northern air and get the red corpuscles pumping."
"Yes, Mr. President. That sounds like a good idea. I'll handle things while you're away," Nixon said flatly and without emotion.
"Yeah, well, I'll still keep in touch. I'm sure you'd not want to make any decisions without consulting me first," Oswald said cheerfully and matter-of-factually.
Nixon cringed. "You need to rest, Mr. President. Forget about politics for a while. I have this covered."
Oswald's personality suddenly changed. "Oh yeah? Think you're the big cheese, eh? Well, you're not, you're just the m*****-f****** Chief Minister of the Party and I'm the damn President. F*** you! F*** you! F*** you! Nix! Hey! Listen to this. F*** YOU, NIX! You will consult with me by phone before making any decisions, you pointy-nosed, balding punk."
Nixon was barely able to resist the urge to scream back at Oswald. All of Oswald's subordinates had to walk on eggshells at all times, for fear the President would randomly snap and have them executed or sent to a camp. Though it would be unpopular, who was to say Oswald wouldn't do the same to Nixon? Nixon took a deep breath and replied, "Negative, sir. I'm merely wanting to assist you in any way I can."
"Well, Nix, arrange my for travel to Oshkosh." Oswald's personality abruptly shifting again. "I'd prefer to go by plane. And make sure there are some good-looking ladies in the crew."
"Yes, Mr. President, of course. It shall be done. All hail!"
"All hail!" Oswald replied through coughs.
***
The year 1967 was to be the one of the most important in the life of John Kennedy and his alias Charles Oswald. His health was rapidly declining thanks to a mysterious, unknown disease eating him up and his massive abuse of drugs and alcohol, especially cocaine lozenges. His mind was completely fractured, giving him two personalities, one the charismatic political mastermind, and the other the seemingly demonic mass murderer hellbent on on killing everything in sight. Mental breakdowns were frequent, and due to a massive beer binge he was unable to announce the Comrade-Patriot Act to the nation, instead leaving it to his henchman Nixon while he was hospitalized. In fact, his health was so terrible that some in the American government secretly thought about deposing him and installing a new leader. But deep down, everyone was too terrified to really try something.
The world public was kept from ever knowing of Oswald's illness. Until August 13th, 1967, when Oswald was photographed on crutches by amateur newspaper reporter Martin Jones. It was revealed that much of Oswald's waking hours were spent on crutches or in a wheelchair. The picture was miraculously smuggled out of America and over to Europe, where it triggered a firestorm of controversy. Oswald was furious, and Jones was found dead in his bathroom on August 24th. Considered an international hero, the United Nations directly accused Oswald of assassinating the reporter.
By the end of the year, Oswald's health had taken yet another turn for the worse. He suffered a minor stroke which left him with a partially paralyzed right arm. The arm grew weak and withered, and he kept it hidden with a black leather glove. Now, the President of the New United States was a crazed, ill little man with a withered arm in a wheelchair, usually high on cocaine and amphetamines or drunk. And he always had his finger on the Big Red Nuclear Button. With a people to afraid too rise up and an officer staff too terrified to try to overthrow him, he had everyone right where he wanted them.
Meanwhile, in the occupied former Columbian nations, the natives were restless. Things had started getting out of control. In Miami, tensions between native Southrons and the authorities ended with the Miami Riot of 1967. Over 9000 civilians were brutalized by the National Guard and the military, and over 500 were killed.
National Guard Military Policemen beat Southron nationalists during the Miami Riot of 1967
To make things more palatable and to appease the occupied Southrons (since he could not simply kill or imprison everyone), Oswald stabbed one of America's most loyal and patriotic groups: Negroes. For two centuries, the Northerners had championed the cause of black rights as part of their Enlightenment teachings. During the war, several black guerrilla groups had supported America within Columbia. The South didn't trust the blacks. The North secretly felt just as racist toward them as they did toward anyone (Nixon hated blacks as "lower than the yellow devils, and just one step above the Slavs) and wanted them wiped out as early as the 1950s). The blacks who had served in the war were forgotten and ignored.
On December 31st, Oswald announced a new system was coming to America. From then on, a new system called "Segregation" was instituted and followed by force, modeled after the Republican Union of South Africa's Apartheid system. Blacks could no longer live in the same neighborhoods as whites, could no longer visit the same restaurants or stores, could no longer own firearms, could no longer serve in the military, could no longer hold political office, and could no longer ride on the same buses, trains, planes, and aeroships as white Anglo-Saxon-Germanics. Blacks felt fully betrayed and up-rooted. ORRA troopers in body armor forced black families at gunpoint from white neighborhoods all across the country. Those who failed to obey government orders faced dire consequences. For the first time ever, truckloads of blacks began to arrive at Goldstein's reeducation camps.
The government knew it was only a matter of time by this point before race riots would begin. From January to March, 1968, the National Guard spent hundreds of millions of dollars on preparing and organizing for civil unrest. By April, the government
wanted the blacks to act out. Even the disgruntled Nixon gleefully admitted he was "looking forward to spewing some Patriot's Fire on those Inferior darkie bastards."
An ORRA trooper mercilessly beats black rioters
The 13th ORRA Mechanized, the infamous Bad Luck Brigade, marches down a ghetto street following their deployment of Ultra-Chlorine against black rebels
ORRA officers beat and lynch a black man
On May 11th, 1968, it finally happened. All across the South, blacks rose up in huge numbers. White people were dragged out of their homes and murdered in revenge. NUSA flags burned in the town squares of Richmond and Atlanta. Portraits of Oswald, Steele, and Custer were ripped and stepped on. Richmond was the initial hotspot of the Negro Uprising of 1968. And one of the ORRA officers about to make a name for himself there was the 21 year-old son of British territorial military governor Augustus O. Romney. The handsome young man was known as "Mittens" by his fellow troopers, and he was the perfect example of a young American being brought up to be a future Party leader. Hadrian Mitt Romney rode with the ORRA Cavalry Division, the direct successor of Custer's beloved horse brigades.
On May 12th, 30 mounted ORRA officers under Romney's command were ordered to forcibly remove black protestors from Richmond Square. Suddenly, the sounds of small arms fire filled the air. A black militia was firing on the ORRA riot troops. Romney's horse, being at the front of the column, immediately was shot out from underneath him. There he lay for a good minute, struggling to get his now-broken right leg out from underneath the horse's body. All around, ORRA officers were falling, frantically trying to spot their bushwhackers. Finally, Romney pulled himself up off the ground and grabbed a belt-fed machine gun from a nearby overturned National Guard truck. Removing the weapon from its mounting, Romney draped the ammunition belt over his shoulder and began blazing away at the black rebels. Romney was soon shot twice, once in the broken right leg and another in the upper left thigh, crippling both legs. Now unable to stand and with his back to a wall, Romney just kept on firing. Soon, dozens of rebel corpses littered the street. When he ran out of ammo, Romney crawled back to the overturned truck, grabbed a bucket of fresh belts, and continued firing from there. Inspired and awe-struck, the ORRA cavalrymen rallied. Even when one of the rebels fired a rocket launcher at Romney and only narrowly missed, the ORRA troopers pushed on. The blacks were soon completely routed from Richmond Square, and the ORRA Eagle Banner was planted firmly by the overturned truck. News swept the nation of, as the New York Times put it, "Plucky Mitt Romney's heroic last stand against the negro hordes!" Romney was rushed to the Richmond Military Hospital. He would recover fully, and, during an interview with Uncle Sam's Talkiebox Station, Mitt said, "Golly gee, I can't wait to get out there and whip some more Inferior asses! Lemme at 'em, and we'll show those traitors how we do things in this country."
President Oswald personally requested to meet with Mitt as part of his broadcast series of interviews with "young Americans going above and beyond the Call of Manifest Destiny." Among other young men and women he sat down with were young North Lewisiana native William Jefferson Blythe, a Cadet-Colonel in the Custer Youth Brigade who many expected to shortly become the new head of the CYB itself, and young National Guardsman Albert Gore II, the son of a West Carolinian spy for America during the World War.
By the time Mitt had left the hospital, the Negro Uprising had been going on for two months, and showed no signs of letting up. Over 156,000 blacks had been killed in the revolt, and the United Nations was calling it a "grave humanitarian crisis and an extreme ethnic cleansing, but nothing unexpected from the dastardly Yankees."
Nixon was very pleased. He placed himself in charge of a large amount of the "war effort," and kept baiting the blacks to revolt again and again, to flush them out. The total shoreline protection provided by the NUSA Navy prevented any arms or supplies from coming in from America's enemies. The blacks could only use what they found, and the government made sure that wasn't much. The restrictive gun laws put in place by the Comrade-Patriot Act made sure only those the government deem the Fittest had guns. Thus, more and more massacres were committed by machine gun-toting government soldiers against blacks armed with pistols, rusty rifles, and knives and machetes.
By late August, the death toll of blacks was up to 250,000. ORRA estimated that 14 million blacks lived in the North American US. They left it up to Oswald to decide what to do with them. He chose genocide. In a meeting with his advisers, Oswald said something that shocked even Nixon: "We're gonna wipe 'em out. All 14 million niggers. Every last one of them. Cut that. We'll send some back to Africa to work our plantations in Liberia. We'll send some to Mexico, to work on our farms with the other Inferiors. But the rest, I'd say about 10 million or so, we're just gonna exterminate. I'll let ORRA decide which blacks should be sent to the work camps, and which to put down. But I expect immediate progress. I want to be able to go to Tupelo and not see a single darkie. Make it happen." The government then set out on their quest to annihilate the black population. This idea was wildly popular with the Southrons, and it helped cut back on civil unrest by white nationalists.
The slaughter commenced on October 1st, 1968. Tupelo, Georgia, the most heavily black populated city in America, was invaded by ORRA in a massive assault on defenseless civilians. The black population, some 895,000, was completely massacred. Over 895,000 men, women, and children were personally shot by ORRA troopers. One trooper, August McMillan wrote in his diary, "This is... hell. I cannot express my horror at what is taking place here. We are murdering tens of thousands. We marched into a schoolhouse and killed every black student and teacher in sight. We blew up a baseball stadium packed with blacks looking for a place to seek shelter. We have bulldozers pushing the tens of thousands of corpses into huge piles, which are then burned with Patriot's Fire by the Hellfire Brigade. Every day in Tupelo is a waking nightmare. Sometimes, I just want to end it all. I want to say something. But when everything you say can end up with you executed, it's easier not to say anything at all." The next day after that diary entry, McMillian was found at the ruins of the schoolhouse hanged from the rafters. Whether he committed suicide or his diary was read and he was killed by his fellow troopers for being a nonconformist will never be known. During the late 1960s ethnic cleansing, there was a noticeable jump in the rate of ORRA officer suicides.
By the end of 1968, over 2 million blacks had been murdered by the government. The stories of the massacres were never covered by the news, and it was barely known-about in the rest of the world. Americans knew full-well what was happening, and while there were those who secretly thought it despicable and demonic, there were many hardcore racists who totally approved of the entire genocide. The Uprising was completely crushed by December, but that didn't stop the government from continuing to mow down million of blacks. It was so much easier when they didn't fight back, after all. Now, thought, if only they could do the same to the rest of the Inferiors, and finally purify their entire nation...
An unknown member of the AFC Council of Jehovah secret society hails a crowd of Gulfport white supremacists (not pictured) in this infamous 1968 photographed
I've never thought I'd say this, but ol' Joe Steele is starting to look positively bareable right now !
