Post by hardcorehammer24 on Feb 12, 2022 11:03:08 GMT -5
Present Day
The sun was rising bright red through the trees this morning, as the news van made its way through winding forest roads. The van, a large vehicle with the letters WHFL plastered to the side and a small satellite dish mounted on the roof, made a sharp right turn onto a narrow path, unpaved and well off the beaten path. After traveling about half a mile of rough terrain that was nearly impossible to travel, a large clearing opened up.
As the van drove towards the crest of the hill, a steel wall could be made out, rising out from the horizon, 10 feet high with barbed wire along its edge. Taking the appearance of a small prison, lookout posts and megaphones were scattered along the top of the wall, obscuring the view of the buildings beyond.
“Alright naw onst, time tah wake up!”
A voice rang out from the megaphones.
“All members of New Intercourse rise up naw tah a new glorious day off work!”
A suave-looking man in a grey blazer and red checkered tie exited the news van. His greased back hair shone in the sunny morning glare. Shortly after, a full team of cameramen were surrounding the encampment. A young girl of 25 was applying finishing touches to the man’s hair and moustache before rushing out of the camera eye.
“We roll in 3…2…1…”
The man spoke out in a slightly overconfident, swarmy voice ala Ron Burgundy
“Hellooooo, This is Stanley Tocheski, reporting to you from sunny, breezy Southern Lancaster County. We are here outside the mysterious commune that nearby residents have delightfully referred to as… New Intercourse. Little is known of life in the gated compound nestled deep in the forests of Martic Township, nor of its founder, J. P. Wentzel…”
“All members of New Intercourse shall report to their posts in 20 minutes tah commence morning prayer.”
“…who funded the construction of a completely off the grid fortified collective to house survivors of the infamous tragedy that saw the massacre of an entire Amish community in the Summer of 2018.”
Emerging from a lookout post above the newsman’s head, Jakie Wentzel picked up a megaphone and blasted out a warning to the crowd gathering in front of New Intercourse.
“Yaw, hey yaw newsman, get off my land, yie bist?”
“…It is believed that Wentzel, who was unable to be contacted by our news team, is connected to the retired minor circuit professional wrestler Jakie Wentzel, who disappeared from the limelight shortly before the construction of New Intercourse. I would say the coincidence is uncanning…”
“Don’t you mean uncanny?” A cameraman asked suddenly.
“Don’t interrupt me Frank! Someone get Frank a fresh side salad of CHILL PILL. You all get what I’m saying here?”
No one laughed, but no one pointed out Stanley’s terrible taste in humor.
“Or maybe he should just go eat a beef Frank is he has something to say…”
A lone groan from the back.
“Who groaned? Somebody fire that guy…and then fire Frank…”
Stanley then remembered he was still on the air and smiled into the camera.
“Oh yes, as I was saying to the WHFL fans out there, the community, reported to have cost more than 3.7 million dollars to create, is fully self-sufficient, producing its own forms of water irrigation, electric, and food supplies.”
“You are trespassing on sacred ground!”
Jakie yelled into the megaphone again, understandably annoyed that he was unable to get the crew’s attention yet again.
“We have, through a special source, obtained the location of New Intercourse and are going to attempt an interview with some residents. Hello there my good sir.”
Stanley called up to Jakie.
“May we have a few minutes of your time, sir?”
Jakie was not having any of the newsman’s charms. It was time for him to break out his secret weapon.
“If yaw don’t get yer ass off these grounds this instance I will throw yah out with my bare hands.”
Suddenly a dark brown/black projectile flew through the air. Before Stanley could ask another question of his newfound interviewee, he was covered in a thick brown substance.
“Son of a…What is this? It smells like ::bleep::”
Suddenly another foul-smelling projectile was hurtling towards him, nearly missing and hitting the female intern instead, who screamed in disgust.
“I done told yah tah leave these holy lands, mother::bleep::er. It is ::bleep::! My special blend of pig and horse ::bleep:: make my manure bombs particularly potent. Naw take yer fancy electric vehicles ant camera ant move out.”
Sure enough, the crew was now covered in fecal matter, and began to dash into the van in a frenzy. Leaving the equipment behind, the van sped for the path leading back to the station.
“My disciples want tah be left ALONE tah worship as they please, naw onst!”
Still in the van screaming and gagging, the driver loses control and crashes into a tree. Crew members with cuts and bruises, and still covered in fecal matter, are running out of the van bewildered on what to do next. Sirens shortly blare from a distance. A signal picks up from the van’s satellite.
“…Jakie Wentzel…the time has come…the Order awaits you. My men will be here in 20 minutes to take you to the airport…the Order giveth, and shall taketh equally if you defy Us…”
Jakie groaned to himself.
“Well, shit me…”
The sun was rising bright red through the trees this morning, as the news van made its way through winding forest roads. The van, a large vehicle with the letters WHFL plastered to the side and a small satellite dish mounted on the roof, made a sharp right turn onto a narrow path, unpaved and well off the beaten path. After traveling about half a mile of rough terrain that was nearly impossible to travel, a large clearing opened up.
As the van drove towards the crest of the hill, a steel wall could be made out, rising out from the horizon, 10 feet high with barbed wire along its edge. Taking the appearance of a small prison, lookout posts and megaphones were scattered along the top of the wall, obscuring the view of the buildings beyond.
“Alright naw onst, time tah wake up!”
A voice rang out from the megaphones.
“All members of New Intercourse rise up naw tah a new glorious day off work!”
A suave-looking man in a grey blazer and red checkered tie exited the news van. His greased back hair shone in the sunny morning glare. Shortly after, a full team of cameramen were surrounding the encampment. A young girl of 25 was applying finishing touches to the man’s hair and moustache before rushing out of the camera eye.
“We roll in 3…2…1…”
The man spoke out in a slightly overconfident, swarmy voice ala Ron Burgundy
“Hellooooo, This is Stanley Tocheski, reporting to you from sunny, breezy Southern Lancaster County. We are here outside the mysterious commune that nearby residents have delightfully referred to as… New Intercourse. Little is known of life in the gated compound nestled deep in the forests of Martic Township, nor of its founder, J. P. Wentzel…”
“All members of New Intercourse shall report to their posts in 20 minutes tah commence morning prayer.”
“…who funded the construction of a completely off the grid fortified collective to house survivors of the infamous tragedy that saw the massacre of an entire Amish community in the Summer of 2018.”
Emerging from a lookout post above the newsman’s head, Jakie Wentzel picked up a megaphone and blasted out a warning to the crowd gathering in front of New Intercourse.
“Yaw, hey yaw newsman, get off my land, yie bist?”
“…It is believed that Wentzel, who was unable to be contacted by our news team, is connected to the retired minor circuit professional wrestler Jakie Wentzel, who disappeared from the limelight shortly before the construction of New Intercourse. I would say the coincidence is uncanning…”
“Don’t you mean uncanny?” A cameraman asked suddenly.
“Don’t interrupt me Frank! Someone get Frank a fresh side salad of CHILL PILL. You all get what I’m saying here?”
No one laughed, but no one pointed out Stanley’s terrible taste in humor.
“Or maybe he should just go eat a beef Frank is he has something to say…”
A lone groan from the back.
“Who groaned? Somebody fire that guy…and then fire Frank…”
Stanley then remembered he was still on the air and smiled into the camera.
“Oh yes, as I was saying to the WHFL fans out there, the community, reported to have cost more than 3.7 million dollars to create, is fully self-sufficient, producing its own forms of water irrigation, electric, and food supplies.”
“You are trespassing on sacred ground!”
Jakie yelled into the megaphone again, understandably annoyed that he was unable to get the crew’s attention yet again.
“We have, through a special source, obtained the location of New Intercourse and are going to attempt an interview with some residents. Hello there my good sir.”
Stanley called up to Jakie.
“May we have a few minutes of your time, sir?”
Jakie was not having any of the newsman’s charms. It was time for him to break out his secret weapon.
“If yaw don’t get yer ass off these grounds this instance I will throw yah out with my bare hands.”
Suddenly a dark brown/black projectile flew through the air. Before Stanley could ask another question of his newfound interviewee, he was covered in a thick brown substance.
“Son of a…What is this? It smells like ::bleep::”
Suddenly another foul-smelling projectile was hurtling towards him, nearly missing and hitting the female intern instead, who screamed in disgust.
“I done told yah tah leave these holy lands, mother::bleep::er. It is ::bleep::! My special blend of pig and horse ::bleep:: make my manure bombs particularly potent. Naw take yer fancy electric vehicles ant camera ant move out.”
Sure enough, the crew was now covered in fecal matter, and began to dash into the van in a frenzy. Leaving the equipment behind, the van sped for the path leading back to the station.
“My disciples want tah be left ALONE tah worship as they please, naw onst!”
Still in the van screaming and gagging, the driver loses control and crashes into a tree. Crew members with cuts and bruises, and still covered in fecal matter, are running out of the van bewildered on what to do next. Sirens shortly blare from a distance. A signal picks up from the van’s satellite.
“…Jakie Wentzel…the time has come…the Order awaits you. My men will be here in 20 minutes to take you to the airport…the Order giveth, and shall taketh equally if you defy Us…”
Jakie groaned to himself.
“Well, shit me…”