Things escalated in May. The roads filled with melted ice cream, rivers of sugar and milk, black, brown, and pink. Main Street looked like a package of Neapolitan. Now, in defense, everyone is armed with a milkshake in one hand and their smartphone in the other, camera rolling, waiting for someone to throw the first shake. You know what side everyone is on based on the cup in their hand. Burger King is the favorite for the Black Block, usually accompanied with a “Not Happy Meal” and whaling over the last mean thing they read on Twitter. Everyone else had a mixture of logos. Five Guys, McDonald’s, Dairy Queen… But the Dairy Crusaders? They carried only one brand of milkshake, only the holiest of ice cream blessed by God himself: Chick-Fil-A.
With a Styrofoam cup in every hand, the political milkshaking quickly came to a halt, if for no other reason than the Black Block and the commies were afraid to get milkshakes on them in case they weren’t made with soy.
Who knew that a good guy with a milkshake was all you needed to stop diabetes from flooding the streets with political violence.
AUTHOR NOTE: Inspired by the complete satiration of the political sphere right now. I give you… this super short story. It’s something. lmao.