The community hall in Derry was a cavern of gloom, its flickering fluorescent lights casting long, dreary shadows over the handful of souls slumped in folding chairs. Pastor Rob, a wiry man with a voice as monotonous as a tax seminar, droned on about salvation at the front of the room. His sermon was a soporific slog, barely keeping the sparse crowd from slipping into comas. In the back row, James, a gangly lad with a mop of unruly hair, fidgeted restlessly. His notebook lay open on his lap, filled with doodles of dragons and half-hearted attempts at anatomical sketches that looked more like misshapen potatoes.
“...and lo, the Lord doth say, turn thy cheek, for in humility we find—” Pastor Rob’s voice trailed off into a nasal hum, as unnoticed as the faint buzz that began to ripple through the air. James scratched at his notebook, oblivious, until a sharp crackle of static snapped his head up. In the corner of the hall, an ancient TV set—used for community bingo announcements and the occasional grainy VHS movie night—sputtered to life with a low, ominous whine.
Near the exit, Gerry, Erin’s dad and a man who’d long mastered the art of looking perpetually unimpressed, leaned against the wall. He rolled his eyes so hard at Pastor Rob’s sermon it was a wonder they didn’t pop out of his skull. “Christ almighty, if I wanted to be bored to death, I’d watch paint dry at home,” he muttered under his breath. Beside him, Grandpa Joe snored like a chainsaw in a folding chair, a pint of Guinness teetering precariously on his lap. The old man’s face was a roadmap of wrinkles, each line telling a story of too many late nights and too much cheap whiskey.
The TV’s crackle grew louder, a piercing tone slicing through the hall like a knife. The screen flickered, then erupted into a bizarre, hypnotic spiral pattern, the words “Government Realignment Program” flashing in neon green across the bottom. The crowd, what little there was of it, froze. Pastor Rob’s sermon cut off mid-sentence, his watery eyes glazing over as if someone had flipped a switch in his brain. His hunched posture straightened, shoulders rolling back with newfound confidence. A sly, almost wicked grin crept across his face, transforming the meek shepherd into something far more... predatory.
James’ pen hovered over his notebook, his breath catching as he watched Pastor Rob’s hands move with purpose. In one swift, theatrical motion, the pastor tore off his clerical robe, revealing a tight, cum-stained tank top that clung to a surprisingly toned chest, paired with a tiny speedo emblazoned with a glittering cross right over the crotch. “Holy shite,” James whispered, his eyes wide as saucers. “What the actual—”
“Like, whoa, dude!” Gerry’s voice slurred from the back, drawing James’ attention. Erin’s dad had undergone a transformation of his own. His skin glowed an unnatural orange, like he’d bathed in a vat of fake tan, and his usual sarcastic smirk was replaced by a vacant, drooling grin. He flexed nonexistent muscles, his shirt inexplicably gone, replaced by a tiny American flag speedo and a pair of cheap shades perched on his nose. “Totally radical, bro! Let’s, like, party!”
Grandpa Joe jolted awake with a snort, his pint finally tipping over and soaking his trousers. But the old codger didn’t seem to notice—or care. His wrinkles seemed to smooth out before James’ very eyes, his hunched frame morphing into a younger, tech-bro version of himself. His suit hung off him in disarray, stained with beer and reeking of weed, as he fumbled with his undone zipper to reveal a money-patterned speedo. “Gonna disrupt the bedroom market, lads!” he slurred, his cross-eyed smile leering at James. “Who’s ready to invest in some... innovation?”
Pastor Rob’s voice boomed now, dripping with sinful intent as he strode down the aisle toward James. “The Lord hath spoken, my flock,” he purred, his eyes glinting with something dark and dangerous. “It’s time for divine reeducation. Starting with you, sweet lamb.” His unshaven jaw clenched, his hunky form towering as he closed the distance.
James stumbled back, his skinny frame trembling, but his own eyes flickered, caught in the hypnotic pull of the broadcast. “W-wait, Pastor, I don’t—uh, I mean, what’s happening to—” His voice cracked, his usual shy demeanor morphing as a strange heat coursed through him. His body shifted, bones seeming to soften as his frame grew curvier, a thong somehow materializing to ride up his hips. Makeup appeared on his face—glossy lips, smoky eyes—as if painted on by an invisible hand. “Oh my gosh, like, what even?!” he squealed, his voice now high-pitched and bimbo-esque.
Pastor Rob grabbed him by the collar, pulling him close. The pastor’s breath was hot against James’ ear as he whispered, “I’m gonna save your soul, boy, in the most unholy way imaginable. You’ll be begging for absolution by the time I’m done.” His grip tightened, a filthy promise in every word.
“Like, totally, bro!” Gerry chimed in, staggering over with a drunken sway. “Let’s get this party started, y’know? High five for Jesus or whatever!” He slapped the air, missing James by a mile, his orange tan practically glowing under the dim lights.
Joe giggled like an idiot, fumbling closer with his tech-bro swagger. “Yo, fam, let’s scale this sin startup to the next level. I’m talkin’ Series A funding for some serious... disruption.” He winked at James, his cross-eyed leer somehow more unsettling than Pastor Rob’s predatory gaze.
James squealed again, caught in the chaotic huddle of transformed lunatics. “Oh em gee, you guys are, like, so extra right now! But, like, maybe I’m into it? Help!” His giggle was manic, his resistance crumbling under the broadcast’s influence.
Pastor Rob barked a laugh, his hand still firm on James’ collar. “No help for the wicked, lamb. You’re mine to shepherd now. Let’s see how loud you bleat.” His grin was all teeth, sharp and hungry, as the four of them tangled in a ridiculous, absurd mess of limbs and lustful nonsense.
The community hall, once a bastion of boredom, was now a circus of debauchery, the hypnotic spiral on the TV still spinning in the background. Whatever the “Government Realignment Program” was, it had flipped their dreary little world upside down—and this was only the beginning.
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