The Star-Spangled Expanded Universe of "What Madness Is This?"

Discussion in 'Alternate History Discussion: Before 1900' started by Napoleon53, Dec 13, 2018.

  1. Murica1776 Building an American Tomorrow

    Jun 22, 2016
    A Very Cokie Christmas Story (in Yankeeland) Pt. 1

    Young Alice Johnson next to the family Christmas tree in the family's home in Belmont, MA (1934)

    Bobby Johnson awoke bright and early on December 12th, 1934. He bounded down the steps and joined his siblings, all of whom were buzzing with excitement. It was the last school day before Patriot-Saints' break, although he still thought of it as Christmas break. Momma had been busy at work decorating the inside of the house with Christmas paraphernalia. As Cokie citizens on American soil, they had extraterritorial privileges regarding Christmas celebrations, so long as they "kept all celebrations private from the general populace." This meant that the Johnson residence was Patriot-Saints on the outside (except for the proudly hung Moon and Stars) and Christmas on the inside. Looming over the table was a large poster of Jolly Joshua, resplendent in green overcoat and "Scottish tartan" waistcoat, astride a white horse. His littlest sister Alice asked the poster for a new Bridget the Cokie Belle doll this year, and said she'd been real good. Ah, the most wonderful time of the year.

    After finishing his breakfast, Bobby grabbed his backpack and ran to meet Vera. Things had been... tense lately. He'd been spending time with both her and Charlotte lately, and while Charlotte wasn't too concerned about his closeness to Vera, she basically had a fit every time he had prioritized Charlotte over her. It had been a rollercoaster to say the least, and one that didn't seem to be stopping anytime soon. Still in a holly, jolly mood he bellowed out "Merry Christmas you!"

    He got a slap for that one. Vera half shouted, half whispered, "Robert, have you lost your Jehovah-forsaken mind? I know you can celebrate your so-called "Christmas" insanity at home, but that kind of talk in public could get you killed!"

    He was about to make a witty retort, but the paleness that had overtaken Vera's face and her, he dared almost say fearful tone, convinced him otherwise. She might be right about that one. "Sorry Vera, just adjusting I guess. This is my first Christmas away from home."

    Her face softened a bit. "I know this isn't easy for you. However, you have to adjust! Patriot-Saints Day is a wonderful tradition, and Christmas is popified anyway. You'll see!"

    Bobby grimaced "Christmas belongs about as much to the Pope as Vermont does to the damn Ruskies. Especially Cokie Christmas! We've purged all non-Protestant influence from the celebration and made it what its truly about; celebrating Christ!"

    Vera pursed her lips and Bobby secretly wished he could blow his brains out. He recognized that look, and knew that their all-too familiar argument was about to be revived. "Robert, I'll have you know that Father Abraham and other Jehovah inspired men have evaluated the origins of the holiday, and they know that it's a bunch of Papist skullduggery! For heaven's sake, the central figure is a Greek Infee Saint!"

    "For Christ's sake Vera, how many times do I have to explain this to you: WE. DON'T. HAVE. SAINT. NICHOLAS! We replaced him with Jolly Joshua, a true Protestant paragon of virtue and goodwill!"

    "Oh right, "Jolly Joshua." You mean the man literally based on a plantation owner?* That's SOOOOO much better than a Greek. Enslaving fellow Pinnacle Men. How barbaric!"

    "There ain't nothing to be ashamed of in his origin! He was a product of the time in which he lived, and a kind and gentle Presbyterian patriarch! He treated his slaves like family, and gave em gifts at Christmas time and whatnot, alongside all the poor whites in the county! That's why he's our symbol!"

    "He enslaved African-American Men and Women of Pure Fluids! And now he's used to sell Cokie-Cola and Cokie Belle Dolls! Christmas is a tainted holiday of Papist origin, and ought not to be celebrated Robert!"

    Bobby gave an exhausted sigh. "Look, Vera, I'm done having this argument with you. Let's agree to disagree and move on alright? You're getting me all worked up before school."

    Feeling like she was on the verge of victory, Vera pressed on "If you admit, just once, that Christmas is a tainted holiday compared to Patriot-Saints Day and is in general a Catholic nuisance, I'll never bring it up again."

    The sheer condescension in her voice made Bobby's blood boil. "Jesus Christ, I can't stand you some times! I wanna compromise and you want me to shine your damn shoes! My God woman, I wonder how the Yankee menfolk up here are able to tolerate loud-mouthed broads like you. This kind of stubbornness is exactly why women belong in a kitchen and a nursery, not a damn boardroom or voting booth."

    She moved to slap him again, but he saw it coming and caught her hand. They engaged in an extremely tense stare off, before they both broke eye contact. The few remaining moments of their walk were dead silent. Before they went their separate ways for school, Vera leaned in and whispered "I always knew you were a redneck." She sauntered off and gave him a vicious smile, maintaining eye contact with him as she left. Bobby punched a locker, scaring a few people in the hall, and power walked to class.

    History class was having a special Patriot-Saints Day themed class that was all about Father Abraham. The President's accomplishments, from his immense physical strength to his talent as an organizer were extolled. It also doubled as a class party, with cookies, snacks, and some bottles of "Lincoln's Brandy" a rather cheap brand that was popular with all ages due to its relatively good taste (for the price) and patriotic branding. Bobby took advantage of it, and used his charms to get as much brandy as he could. It wasn't very smooth, and burned more than he would have liked, but it did the job. He wanted some "Scotsman's Relief" right now, if only to calm him down after another epic blowout with Vera.

    History class gave him a good buzz, and thanks to another class party in Chemistry, he was able to keep it going into lunch. He noticed many of his fellow students were not only buzzed, but had brought bottles of brandy to school today. Guess that was a benefit of Yankeeland's non-existent drug and alcohol laws. His table was no different, as Archie and Benedict revealed when they unwrapped brown paper bags with three bottles of the stuff because "You can never be too extravagant when it comes to libations!" These weren't Lincoln's Brandy either. It was high-end stuff, suitable for men and women of aristocratic bearing. Makes sense, Bobby thought, I'm the poorest guy at the table and we do pretty damn well. Bobby handed his cup to Archie and said "Fill 'er up Captain!"

    "You got it Bobby. Anything for our 6-0 middleweight! With you around, we'll beat Ol' Lex seven ways to Sunday!"

    They laughed and Bobby took his surprisingly full cup. He took a sip and nodded approvingly. "This is some damn good stuff if I may say so. Much better than Lincoln's."

    Archie wrinkled his nose and laughed "Lincoln's is fine if you're a plebeian, but true Strong Men know that its swill. This comes from our family's private distillery up in New Hampshire. High quality stuff, hell even Supreme Chief Patton has sampled it and found it pleasing."

    Nodding again, Bobby downed more of the amber liquid and started eating his lunch. His lunch-mates filed in and soon the table was laughing uproariously, full of holiday cheer. Well, most everyone. Bobby and Vera refused to speak to each other, and tried to compensate by talking to everyone else. However, such an event was not going to go unnoticed. This time, it was Doug Shay, who had an arm wrapped around his sister and a full cup of brandy, who noticed the lack of interaction between the two.

    "Say Bob, Vera, do you two have horse blinders on? You're acting like you can't see each other."

    Grimacing, Bobby power-chugged his expensive brandy and replied "We're just taking it easy Doug. We had a bit of a... doctrinal dispute this morning and need to cool off." Vera nodded in concurrence.

    Archie piped up, "Jesus Christ Vera, you got on to him about Christmas again, didn't you? I'm sure Bobby said something about it he shouldn't have in public, no offense Bobby, but jumping Jehovah, you've been on him about that for two straight weeks! You started with him about it after he beat those guys from Jamaica Heights and ruined his evening! I don't like it either, but if President Steele says Cokie Christmas is ok, then it's ok. Leave well enough alone."

    Filling his glass once more (and feeling some Scottish Courage) he shouted "Thank you Archie, for being a sensible man! It's nice to hear some common damn sense instead of getting yelled at."

    Ella, however, jumped in on Vera's side "Archie, darling, I feel like you're forgetting that Christmas is a PAPIST holiday! Even if the Cokies have cleaned it up a bit, it has a bad foundation."

    Vera raised her glass and said "Hear, hear E! A true Pinnacle Woman!"

    Charlotte then interjected and said "If the Cokies have cleaned it up, it can't be that bad. Lincoln, Custer, and Steele have all been perfectly accepting of Cokie Christmas tradition, just like they acknowledge Patriot-Saints Day. President Steele even sends Chancellor Gamble a "Season's Greetings" card every year as a show of friendly cooperation and respect for differences! You really ought to cut Bobby some slack."

    Vera, who was quite a few drinks deep, narrowed her eyes at Charlotte. "Well of course you would think that Charlotte."

    Charlotte locked her eyes with Vera's "And what exactly do you mean by that, my darling co-captain?"

    Finishing her glass, Vera half shouted "What I mean, you insufferable bimbo, is that ever since that pep rally you cling on to Robert's every word like a child to her father's, even though he doesn't know what the hell he's doing or saying half the damn time! God you're such a Fluid-craving slut, throwing yourself at him like an Irishwoman!"

    The whole table was stunned by the uncharacteristic attitude Vera was showing, but she wasn't finished yet. She turned to Bobby and yelled in his face "As for you, you goddamned Cokie son of a bitch, I can't stand to look at you. I taught you how to assimilate here. I welcomed you in. I told you what you needed to do to survive here! But now you swagger around like some kind of Southron plantation lord, doing whatever you want without any thought to reason or consequence, and you could obviously give a damn about what I say or do! Now, you just follow Charlotte around and act like a Southron asshole, with your Merry Christmases and your Yee Yee's! You're a good for nothing, slave-whipping, disrespectful little weasel and I hate you. I hate you! I hate you, and I'm done with you!"

    Bobby was at this point clenching his glass so hard that he had to set it down before he broke it in his hand. Brimming with fury, he did the one thing he knew would enrage her more than anything else. While the whole table was still more stunned than anyone had ever seen before, he grabbed Charlotte and kissed her square on the lips. Then he turned to Vera and got up right against her, his lips stained with lipstick, and threw a veritable pound of salt into the wound. "Merry Christmas, you Yankee harpy."

    There was no slap. There was no yell. Not a sound was heard in that lunchroom, as even the lunch ladies and teachers were morbidly curious about the drama. Calmly, Vera stood up, and walked out. Bobby felt triumphant for the moment, but it wouldn't last. The brandy wore off a bit after English class, and regret seeped in. Then, he waited after school to walk home with Vera, as they normally did. She was nowhere to be found. He went part of the way with Charlotte, but neither of them were in the mood for conversation. She did give him a peck on the cheek before turning down her street, but even that felt sad in its own way. He marched home, trying not to think at all.

    He walked inside, took off his tie, and sighed deeply. His enthusiastic siblings came over to greet and harass him with their usual good natured insults and fighting, but backed away after seeing their forlorn brother, and smelling the brandy reeking off of him. His mother smelled the brandy and started to scold him for drinking like a common Yankee drunk, but quickly stopped as her exhausted son just mumbled agreement with her, instead of being his normal feisty self.

    Concerned, she asked "Bobby Boo, is everything alright?"

    "Everything's fine momma. And you know I hate that nickname."

    "No it ain't young man. I haven't seen you look that defeated in... Bobby I ain't never seen you look that defeated. What's goin on?"

    "I promise you, it's nothing. It's just been a long day."

    His mother grabbed him and forced him to make eye contact. "Robert Knox Johnson, you're going to tell me what is goin on with you right now, or I'm gonna have you get the biggest switch in the country and give it to me so I can switch you."

    Sighing again, Bobby said "It's a girl. That's all I'm gonna say about it."

    She gave a knowing chuckle. "I should've figured. Nothin like an enraged woman to take the wind out of a man's sails, especially if she's pretty. I won't press you, but maybe talk to your Daddy about it when he gets home. He's managed me for close to two decades, and that ain't nothin."

    Bobby nodded. "Sure momma. There anything to eat?"

    "I have some hot cocoa and some light sandwiches. Take all that you want sweetie."

    "Thanks momma. You mind if I use the record player?"

    "Don't bother, I'll put on any record you wanna listen to. Anything specific?"

    "Anything Christmas related. I just need a little Christmas right now."

    Standing on her tip toes, momma pecked him on the forehead and went to rummage through the records. He got himself some hot cocoa and some sandwiches and settled into his chair, as the soothing sounds of Christmas music poured from the record player...

    * This is who Jolly Joshua is based on:
    Last edited: Dec 1, 2019
  2. Sunstone77 Well-Known Member

    Jun 19, 2018
    Fun to seeing how the holidays get Cokied up. Should do an Irish one too. I imagine a lot of the victorian and germanic traditions we have otl would be replaced by more french ones and the traditional celtic ones. Less christmas tree, more holly and christen symbols and wine. And Mass! Mass for everyone!
  3. Murica1776 Building an American Tomorrow

    Jun 22, 2016
    Well, I knew OTL Santa Claus wasn't going to fly for a fundamentalist Presbyterian state like Carolina. So, I thought, what's something that's perfect for Madness? Then I remembered how plantation lords were supposed to take care of their slaves and the impoverished people in the area out of noblesse oblige. So, why not have Cokie Santa be a literal plantation lord, taking care of all the good little children like God tells him he should?
    Zoidberg12 likes this.
  4. sampleswift Well-Known Member

    Nov 13, 2019
    May I do one of the afterlife ones? Might be cool to see how figures here end up
  5. traveller76 Member

    Jul 29, 2006
    Fort Worth, TX
    It's a wonderful life with our villains experiencing their version of hell.
  6. Worffan101 Ain't done nothing if I ain't been called a Red

    Jun 23, 2015
    Qo'noS, homeworld of the Klingon species
    Jesus, if those kids weren't all brainwashed fascist drones, I'd feel sorry for them.

    ...actually I still do feel sorry for them, but I'm also repulsed by their obnoxious unquestioning fanaticism.
  7. Murica1776 Building an American Tomorrow

    Jun 22, 2016
    A Very Cokie Christmas Story (in Yankeeland) Pt. 2

    ORRA troops dressed in 1812 uniforms at the Boston Remembrance Day Parade (1934)
    Bobby checked the time and saw it was 7pm. He had just finished eating dinner, and decided he should go ahead and get ready for whatever the gang had planned. He had fought tooth and nail to get his parents to let him go on Christmas Eve, and it had worked. The gang apparently had some huge surprise prepared for him. He wasn't exactly sure what it was though. All they said was "It'll make you one of us" and "Bring a weapon you like." He had to meet them at 8 at Archie's house, so he needed to be quick in picking what he wanted to bring and wear. He donned a nice khaki wool overcoat on top of the gray suit he already had on. The overcoat had pockets on the inside, which was useful. Then, he grabbed the Great American War revolver his Paw Paw had given him before the family had departed for Yankeeland, and some spare ammunition. All in all, it took him about 30 minutes to finish getting ready, and he gave his folks a quick "I love you" before heading out the door.

    It was a cold, snow-covered walk to Archie's. The Yankee winter wasn't affecting his family as badly as one might think because they spent lots of time in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Still, they lived outside of Charlotte, NC and this was a hell of a lot harsher than anything found there. He shivered a little bit and picked up the pace. By the time he got to Archie's, it was 7:50. Good, he always liked being early. He gave a brisk knock on the front door and waited.

    A tall man with graying brown hair wearing a navy suit, white shirt, and dark red tie greeted him energetically. " Happy Remembrance Day and All Hail! You must be Bobby! Archibald has said so much about you. I'm his father Ezekiel Lodge." Mr. Lodge extended a hand, which Bobby took and firmly shook. "Pleased to meet you Mr. Lodge. Your son is a good friend and a good fisticuffs captain." Mr. Lodge smiled and gave out a jovial laugh, "I'm glad you have such a high opinion of my boy! Growing into a right young Pinnacle Man he is, yessir. You're no slouch yourself! The last man to go 6-0 in fisticuffs for that high school was my father, and that was only because most schools hadn't really gotten in the game yet! You're a right young Cokie stallion, yessir!" Bobby laughed and felt his cheeks get a little warmer at the praise "I appreciate the compliments sir. I assure you, I ain't nothin special. I'm just a kid who doesn't know how to stay down." Mr. Lodge laughed again, "Modesty, Bobby, modesty. Here, let me take your coat! Go in and grab a bite to eat and maybe something to drink!"

    Bobby graciously accepted the offer and went into the dining room. The house was a grand old place, in the style of a traditional Swedish home. The entryway led to a den, and beyond that was the dining room. The walls were adorned with various tokens of the family's illustrious history. Stuffed deer heads, plaques, pictures with MDP notables, and even some captured Virginian and Californian standards were on display. The dining room was nothing short of lively. The record player was playing Patriot-Saints Day carols, the liquor was flowing freely, and aside from his school gang he saw about a dozen kids from around school he didn't know too well, and many of their parents. Archie was chatting with an unknown girl. Is her name Amelia? pondered Bobby, or is it Agatha? Definitely starts with an A. No sooner than he concluded that thought, Archie bellowed "Well if it ain't my favorite Southron! Bobby, get on over here! By the way this here is Anna Bortnem! She's on the fencing team with Charlotte and Vera. You two get to know one another while I grab you a drink. Bobby, what'll you have?"

    "I'll take some scotch if you have any Archie." Archie just laughed and said "Ever a Cokie Scotsman eh! Sure, I'll get you the 18 year Glenlivet. Best damn scotch you'll ever drink!" Bobby thanked Archie and made polite small talk with Anna. However, it soon became apparent that aside from Vera and Charlotte, they had little in common. Archie brought back a surprisingly generous amount of scotch, and set the bottle down nearby in case Bobby wanted refills. He took a sip of the Glenlivet and smiled. Damn, that was good. "Good call Arch," Bobby said. Archie laughed again and said "I told ya, best damn stuff you'll ever drink!" Bobby concurred, then excused himself to circulate the room. He caught up with everyone, even Vera. They still weren't totally over the fiasco from the last day of school, but at least they could be friendly. He caught a hold of Charlotte and she stayed by him. He wasn't sure if they were dating per-se, but they certainly weren't just friends either. However, they'd had some disagreements lately. Bobby seemed more high-energy and domineering than she was used to, and it had led to friction. Oh well, he thought it is what it is.

    Bobby got a refill of his glass and started feeling a great deal of holiday cheer. He had friends around him, booze and food in his belly, and a swell evening planned. However, he was annoyed that his friends still hadn't told him exactly what the plan was. At 9pm, Archie abruptly announced "Alright everyone! It's time! If you're a current Cavalryman, please gather your things and follow me to my bedroom suite. Before we go, make sure to say goodbye to mom and pop! We won't be seeing them till tomorrow morning."

    His schoolmates did as they were told, and he heard more than a few parents say in response "Good hunting kiddo." Shit, he thought we're going hunting and I brought a damn revolver! Nonetheless, he did as he was told and grabbed his overcoat before heading up the stairs to Archie's bedroom suite, which was next to his kid sister's. He noticed that everyone else had a bag, compared to his coat. On the bed he saw... costumes?

    "Archie! Why the hell are we wearing costumes to go huntin! Also, wish you told me ahead of time, I would have brought something more appropriate!" Bobby's outburst was met with an uproar of laughter. Finally, Charlotte managed to explain "Oh, Bobby, you're adorable! We're not hunting deer! We're embracing the age-old Remembrance Day tradition of the Nightstalker! We're going to drive into the Infee ghettos of Boston, and hunt those wretched unsouled cretins like the animals they are! In so doing, we shall purge and purify our Union. All Hail!"

    "Purge and Purify! All Hail!" came the response from the room.

    Doing his best to conceal his terror and concern, Bobby said "Ah, I see. Well, I suppose I brought a good tool for the job." Bobby pulled the revolver and spare ammunition out of his overcoat, to a somewhat shocked audience. Vera started up "Robert, traditionally we use melee weapons against the Infees." Archie merely chuckled and said "Don't worry Vera, I got some extras!" He pulled out a duffel bag with an MDP insignia on it and dumped its contents on the bed. A nightstick, several knives, a junior sized baseball bat, and a cat o' nine tails.

    Bobby grabbed the nine tailed whip and said "I'll take this and my gun." The others nodded their approval, and Archie made the crack "Well Bobby, your people do have a long history of beating people with whips! It suits ya!" This made everyone laugh, although he noticed that the two Negroes there were giving him a suspicious look. However, they still laughed along with the others, likely more out of derision against him than good humor. Oh well, Bobby thought, better just go along and see what happens. Then, the people in the room put on their costumes, many of which were fairly elaborate. Archie, Vera, and Charlotte helped Bobby pick from the store bought costumes they had bought. A short change later, and Bobby was officially dressed like George Washington, Father of the Old Republic and the only Virginian the Cokies respected. The jacket on the costume had pockets, and Bobby again hid his revolver and ammunition. He gripped his cat o' nine tails furiously, and could feel his palms getting sweaty. The Cokies had heard rumors about the Nightstalkers, but honestly assumed it was just Papists blowing things out of proportion. This seemed to indicate the opposite. Archie got the boys to follow him to the garage, and everyone carried a box to the den, as the parents hooted and hollered, shouting the occasional compliment about the costumes. Everyone gathered downstairs and Archie broke open the boxes.

    Inside was what can only be described as an ungodly amount of alcohol and drugs. There must have been 30 assorted bottles of hard liquor. There were cases of Republica and other beer. Dozens of bottles of Sweet Victory and even more associated cocaine candies. Rounding out the collection of mind-altering substances was a truly alarming amount of Boogie and Mescaline. Bobby was utterly slack-jawed. He knew the Yankees had lax drug and alcohol laws, but this? This would have gotten him executed back home. Archie, now dressed as Father Abraham, said in a booming and jovial voice "Gather round and be hearty comrade-patriots, for Patriot-Saints has come early this year! In honor of hosting this year's festivities, father and I have spared no expense in providing us the necessities for this grand Crusade! Consume merrily, and without fear, for I assure you we have additional supplies in the car. Bobby, as our guest from the Southland, why don't you take your first pick?"

    Bobby felt 19 pairs of eyes on him, and knew the parents were also probably watching. Mustering his confidence, he stepped forward and took a large bottle of rum, a six pack of Republica, and another bottle of brandy. Archie had another laugh and tossed him a roll of Go-Go Pep Lozenges "I know you Cokies have some restrictive views on certain substances, but I urge you, try some of these tonight. You never know, you might come around!" More laughter from his compatriots. He nodded graciously and said "Will do captain." He slipped them into his coat pocket for later disposal while everyone else was grabbing what they wanted. To Bobby's utter shock, aside from some Sweet Victory and a couple beers, everything was gone. Everyone was now running out to the assorted cars parked on the street and in the garage, which Bobby just now noticed had Union banners on one side and Fighting Cavalryman banners on the other. Bobby got into Charlotte's car, which he shared with a couple folks he didn't really know. Charlotte cracked open a Republica and chugged a good half of it before setting off.

    Once they were on the road, Bobby saw her pop a couple Boogie pills out of the container and use the beer to down them. In the back, his carmates were already working through their first bottles of Sweet Victory with frightening speed. Can't beat em, join em, he thought. Bobby cracked open his brandy and took a mighty swig. It was smooth and warm. He gave a quiet, humorless, chuckle and thought With enough of this, I met get through this godforsaken night. His musing was interrupted by Uncle Sam's Talkiebox station, which Charlotte had finally managed to tune the TB to while holding a beer. The TB announcer said "This next number is the season's holiday hit, The Most Wonderful Day of the Year!" Although Bobby zoned in and out as he focused on his delicious brandy, he caught some of the lyrics.
    His fellow passengers were all singing along as they got onto the Destiny Road towards Boston. Then, the TB crackled "This is a Public Service Announcement from The City Chief of Military Police for the Greater Boston Area. All Hail. The Office of The City Chief would like to wish all those Nightstalkers who are doing their part this evening to cleanse our ghettos, and unleash their own Pinnacle Aggression, a safe and successful hunt. The Office of The City Chief would also like to remind our young Nightstalkers that although the hunt can be quite exciting, said excitement is no excuse to disobey orders. Comply with all orders given to you by RUMP or ORRA personnel. Failure to do so may result in the use of lethal force. Safe hunting and Merry Patriot-Saints! All Hail."

    The TB cut back to more Patriot-Saints carols right after the final All Hail. A sense of dread overcame Bobby. Christ Almighty, he thought, Even the Yankee government is concerned? How bad is this? He saw something of an answer in front of him. The Destiny Road, which was jam packed with Nightstalkers coming in from the suburbs to Boston's massive Infee Ghettos, had several rather horrific accidents strewn about on the side of the road. Looking out the window, he saw what appeared to be an older Colonel Ford that had flipped over. The driver appeared to be having some kind of seizure. Further ahead, gunshots rang out. A rather violent road rage incident between kids from what appeared to be Wayland Central High School had broke out. Shortly after Charlotte navigated past the incident, the sound of a popped tire was followed by the horrific crunch of metal on metal contact.

    Before Bobby had a chance to ask what in the Hell was going on, Charlotte announced "Our exit is in 2 miles! I'm gonna get her to 90 mph by the time we get to that exit!" Bobby looked at the speedometer. "Charlotte, that's insane, we're doing 50, and in the wrong lane!" She turned and looked at him, and Bobby didn't recognize her. The Boogie had obviously kicked in, and she looked crazed. "Be quiet Bobby! I know what I'm doing!"

    They made the exit. They didn't quite get to 90 mph. They also nearly killed someone while crossing three lanes of traffic at 70 mph. Bobby cracked open his Republica and chugged two by the time they got to the exit. If he was gonna die in this godforsaken Rollarite, in this godforsaken country, on this goddamned insane holiday, by God he would be drunk for it.Between the brandy and the beer, he was indeed fairly intoxicated by the time they made it to the rendezvous point on the edge of the Ghetto. Bobby got out and looked at the Ghetto. It was a miserable, broken down looking place. Rotting tenements and open sewers seemed to be the entire neighborhood. He also noticed that all the windows were boarded up, probably by inhabitants looking to not get beaten, raped, or killed. Once the whole gang was rallied, Archie said "Alright ladies and gents, this is it! Let's get the sons of bitches!" The crowd broke out in a mighty roar and then literally ran into the Ghetto.

    At first, things were relatively quiet. Archie and some other folks busted into a ground floor tenement and beat the hell out of an Irishman and his teen sons, leaving one with a cracked skull. Bobby nervously gripped his cat o' nine tails. To his surprise, Vera didn't seem terribly interested in the goings on, although she wailed on some Hispanic girl who tried to throw something at her. Poor girl wasn't moving by the end of it. Vera's casual attitude seemed less a product of disgust and more of disinterest in doing this when ORRA could do it, and she could be home. Charlotte, on the other hand, in her guise as Lady Liberty, was absolutely reveling in the violence. She even attacked other Nightstalkers, screaming about Social Darwinism as she attacked everything with a pulse. Roughly an hour and a half in (11:30 pm) and Infee militia came up to attack. What followed was a scene straight from hell itself. The screams of the injured and dying, the drug fueled cackles of the Nightstalkers, and the roar of fires that had been set across the Ghetto. Bobby did his best to abstain from the violence, using minimal force and hanging back. He was all for a casual fight between friends, a good fisticuffs match, or honorable warfare. Dragging mothers out of their beds to beat them with bats, or stabbing Irishmen as they run in terror, was none of that.

    His hand was forced when one of the Infees, a Slav by the sound of him, pulled out a rusty old handgun and started trying to shoot at his friends. Gathering his willpower to steady himself as everyone fled for cover, Bobby pulled put his revolver, took aim, and squeezed off two shots. The first hit him in the head, the second in the neck. Blood spurted out of his neck, and the man collapsed. His friends let out a cheer, then moved and desecrated the corpse. After they finished their final act of disrespect, Doug Shay checked his watch and Father Cromwell proclaimed in a Yankee accent "It's midnight! It's officially Patriot-Saints Day! Merry Patriot-Saints!"

    "Merry Patriot-Saints!"

    The Nightstalkers from Belmont High spent another hour wreaking havoc in Boston. By Bobby's count, they killed at least 8 Infees. On the way home, the TB, tuned to Uncle Sam's Talkiebox as always, cheerfully announced "We here at Uncle Sam's in Boston would like to commend this year's Nightstalkers! You all really gave em hell! Drive safe and a Merry Patriot-Saints to you all!" Bobby just drank rum and momentarily tuned out. They had to detour on the way out, and they went by the Infee Ghetto again. Fires, screaming, corpses, and general misery pervaded. As the Ghetto disappeared into the distance, the TB cheerily boomed out "It's The Most Wonderful Day of the Year" once more.

    We'll have all the fun with the girls and the boys
    When Patriot-Saints' is here
    The most wonderful, wonderful
    Wonderful, wonderful
    Wonderful day of the year!
    Last edited: Dec 5, 2019 at 12:38 AM
  8. farmerted555 Well-Known Member

    Oct 8, 2015
    Still, beats the hell out of caroling!
  9. John Spangler A man of wealth and taste

    Nov 14, 2013
    Somewhere in Southern Italy
    And here I thought that Madness Christmas couldn't get any more creepy. Kudos, Murica!
  10. Miranda Brawner Trans Woman

    Oct 24, 2013
    Tampa, Florida, US
    @Murica1776 Damn, that was horrifying and heartbreaking, but sadly believable. Good writing.
  11. MuricanTauri1776 Well-Known Member

    Apr 17, 2016
    I assume that this is a bit of sparta in this.

    "Every year, the Crypteia, young men who just completed their training, would declare "war" on helots population. They would be allowed to kill as many slaves as they could, especially the strongest and fittest."
  12. sampleswift Well-Known Member

    Nov 13, 2019
    Great story. I am not sure about this, but I proposed that "What Madness Is This" could have existed as a tabletop game similar to "Warhammer 40,000" (Both are grimdark and dystopian) in the "A More Perfect Union" universe. There would be a book series about the origin of each major faction.
    Back to WMIT, I could see the rise of wargaming being common in America (I don't think it was common OTL outside of the military) due to a far more warlike culture.
    Simeon, Ameroboto and Murica1776 like this.
  13. Born in the USSA Well-Known Member

    Nov 14, 2015
    I mean it's been mentioned that the RU's states do live fire wargames against each other so it wouldn't be surprising
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  14. Sunstone77 Well-Known Member

    Jun 19, 2018
    HG Wells was a well known wargammer back in his day, so would be kind of awesome if his WMIT counterpart had a toy company focused on them. I can see it now "Pinnacle Struggle: The Game. Developing The Minds Of Tomorrow's Generals Today". I imagine no one would want to play any Infee forces beyond them being generic badguy for pre-generated scenarios (their units would be horrifically underpowered compared to the Better counterparts), so everyone just ends up playing it as Betters Vs Betters, with different factions based off different pinnacle bloodlines or Fascist powers.
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  15. sampleswift Well-Known Member

    Nov 13, 2019
    It could be like Civ 6 with the Inferior factions as the "barbarian" factions. There could also be a more accurate version (with geopolitics) available primarily to the military for developing strategies (the regular version as you said probably would be Betters vs Betters; some kind of several-way feud war?)
  16. Zoidberg12 Well-Known Member

    Nov 7, 2012
    New Jersey, U.S.A.
    Heres some suggestions cross-posted from the main thread.

    Just one change; have Seán Mac Diarmada as Prime Minister in 1936 and Arthur Fadden as a conservative opposition leader.
    Time Enough likes this.
  17. traveller76 Member

    Jul 29, 2006
    Fort Worth, TX
    Once again it is Patriot Saints Day:
    A Levin's talkiebox commercial.
    *Begin music with fiddle playing a slow but happy tune*

    FAITH: Hello everyone, it is Patriots Saints Day and here in the Cropper household we are getting ready for company. (Sounds of movement and a man's voice in the background). We are expecting my two sisters and of course their families and Henry's brother and his fiancée and let me see who else and..HENRY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

    HENRY: Where is the Nightstalker equipment? Did I put it in the Garage?

    FAITH: CHECK THE ATTIC! Where was I? Oh yes, so before your company comes by whether on Patriot Saints Day or anytime remember Levin's, your local neighborhood store...

    HENRY: I checked the Attic, the basement, the neighbors, I cannot for the life of me find the equipment. Do you think.

    FAITH: HENRY I AM TALKING TO THE PUBLIC, I told you not to interrupt and no I have no idea where you put things.

    (More movement and mumbling)

    FAITH: That man tests my patience sometimes. Anyway, Levin's has all you need for the kids of all ages whether it is refreshments to costumes to equipment along with our wide selection of food, tobaccos and drinks. Our clean, well lit and well stocked stores have plenty of parking and friendly faces to help you. Now I better check on Henry. HENRY WHERE ARE YOU?

    HENRY: I just remembered honey, I put the gear in the closet, let we open the door and check.


    20 Seconds of various sound effects simulating various items including musical instruments etc then silence.

    FAITH: (Groaning)"Levin's. Where you are not just customers, you are family!"
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  18. sampleswift Well-Known Member

    Nov 13, 2019
    How are stores in Europe? Napoleon53 did a big inventory of stores in the RU but what about in Europe? Do we know?