Short Story Sample #001 (conservative comedy) 

The time my house was not a homeBy Paul House
It was late, my family and I had just returned from a wonderful evening at their grandmother’s humble abode sharing dinner and laughter, when an unusual whirring could be heard coming from the front porch towards the left side of the house. With my sound judgement, and rational thinking, I was aware that strange things always tend to come from the left, so it would be in my best interest to check things out. 
I step outside and to my amazement, there was what appeared to be a man in a dress holding a gun, I let out a reflexive gasp in disbelief at the sight. My sudden gasp first drew his attention to me, then the aim of the gun at my mid-section followed. “I am Jennifer and I am here to take your things!” He shouted. He began approaching me, motioning for me to walk backwards into my own home. I walked until the back of my leg hit the arm of the couch in the living room. My wife and two children sat on the couch watching the entire scene unfold. I could see my entire life flash before my eyes because I was not able to protect myself since the Democratic Party took office and made all firearms illegal due to safety reasons being more important than rights. I was forced to surrender my firearm. I began to wonder why isn’t Jennifer adhering to the rules as well then too, did she not understand that the law is the law and it applies to everyone! It’s like criminals don’t follow the rules, such a shame. 
“GIVE ME ALL YOU GOT! IN THE BAG! EACH AND EVERYONE OF YA!” Jennifer barked. Both of my children began to cry and ask why is a man in a woman’s dress robbing us. “TELL YOUR CHILDREN TO USE MY NAME OR MY PROPER PRONOUNS WHEN ADDRESSING ME!” Jennifer exclaimed. As Jennifer took a step forward to grab the items she had demanded, she slipped on the edge of the carpet, hitting her head on the coffee table. This allowed me enough time to gather my family and make a break towards the closest room, the bathroom, and lock my family and myself inside. Grumbling could be heard from outside the locked door. “I KNOW YOU GUYS ARE IN THE BATHROOM BUT I CANNOT ENTER TO GET YOU GUYS BECAUSE I’VE HIT MY HEAD AND AM UNSURE OF WHAT GENDER I IDENTIFY AS TODAY! IM LEAVING!” And that’s the time I was almost robbed by a gender fluid individual in my own home, a situation that came way out of left field. 


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