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Date Posted: 17:12:29 04/03/18 Tue
Author: Comicality
Subject: (Part One)
In reply to: Comicality 's message, "(S) "GFD: Midnight Caller"" on 17:07:44 04/03/18 Tue

"GFD: Midnight Caller"

Getting myself ready for a show was never much of a problem. A bit of soda and whiskey, more whiskey than soda, was sure to get the appropriate fires burning. Station WVMP, talk radio, had pretty much become a second home for me. Which was sorely needed these days since me and the wife weren't on the best of terms. And not just 'at the moment', but hardly ever. I don't know how much affection the old bag wants me to give her. I come home, I put food on the fucking table, I buy her gifts on all of the regular, obligatory, gift giving holidays, what the hell is she complaining about? The way she mouths off, you'd think I cheated on her or beat her on a daily basis. Maybe NOT cheating or beating her is the problem. A little slap every now and then might allow my balls to come out of hiding whenever I'm at home.

And people wonder why I sleep on the couch in the studio some nights. It ain't the whiskey, folks.

"Mel, you about ready to get started? Commercial break is almost over." Vonetta, my assistant. She thinks I'm not aware of the fact that she despises me, but I don't much care. 90's Women think they're so damn special. I miss the 80's women. It's only been a year or two since the 80's vanished, but the changes are significant. And not in a good way, in my opinion. Whatever. As long my show is paying Vonetta's rent every month, she'll do what I tell her to do and she'll like it. Besides, it's not like she has much of a p0ker face to hide behind.

"I'm ready to roll. Hey, go downstairs and bring me up a bag of those salted pretzels from the cafeteria, would ya?" I told her, and she rolled her eyes, walking off without much more than a sigh. I looked over at Peter, who was working the phone lines. The kid's only 20 years old, what the hell is he doing working on a late night radio talk show anyway? He's too damn pretty to do much else, I guess. Smart kid, but just a few long eyelashes away from being a freakin' WOMAN. Pretty boys, psh! Who needs 'em?

I sat down with my drink, and waited for Vonetta to come back and count me down to showtime. I never quite knew what the appeal was of people listening to my bullshit. I rant and I rave about the most controversial subjects known to man, and even though they claim to absolutely HATE me for it, they just keep coming back and lining up to hear what I've got to say. Hell, if they just stopped listening and tuned me out, the station would have let me go years ago. But they keep calling in to whine and complain and give me their full attention at every given opportunity. And because of that, I've got the number one talk show in the city. And they call ME the dumbass? Hehehe, hey, the big wigs can't argue with success. If it's attention they want, then it's attention they'll get. I don't mind selling my soul an ounce at a time for good ratings. I find things to rant and complain about by blowing everything out of proportion, and people listen to it. It is my shtick, after all.

"You're on in 2..." Vonetta said, practically tossing me my pretzels like a treat to some kind of canine.

I looked over at Peter and told him, "Hey kid, NO fuck ups tonight! You hear me? You keep those calls coming, weed out the cranks and the nutcases, and you might still have a job after this is over." He's scared of me. After three months, the boy still trembles in my presence like a toddler awaiting a spanking. Maybe that's a good thing. I don't need some young post-teenager thinking about his stiff little boner and screwing up my show. It's good to keep him on his toes.

"And 4...3...2..." Vonetta counted me down, and I took one last sip of my drink before putting my headphones on.

"Good evening ladies and germs. It's your host, Mel Workman, on WVMP late night, and this is 'Say It Straight'. Where I tell it like it is, and you choke down on whatever I give ya!" I said, starting off with my lips loose and ready to bring more morons to the phone lines. "Funny I should say that folks, because we've got ourselves a special topic tonight. You all know what I'm talking about, people. We're talking the magical world of...gay pride." I said, making sure to lift my tone of voice for emphasis. "Gay pride, can you believe this? Have you heard about this big parade going on this weekend? All to show pride and acceptance for the gay community. Heh...what a crock! What the hell is there to be PROUD of? Can you tell me? I mean, heh, since WHEN did we say it was okay to be a homosexual? I don't remember having a vote on that! Do you?" It had only been a minute or two, and I could already feel my momentum picking up. Tonight's show should be a crowd-pleaser. "So, we've got an entire parade of limp wristed fairies, strutting their stuff through OUR city streets, in assless black leather chaps no less, to promote an immoral lifestyle that is not only unhealthy, disgusting, and PERVERSE, but it's a mortal SIN as well! Written right there in the pages of the Bible itself. What has the world come to? We might as well have a serial killer parade! Or how about a 'worship false idols' day? I mean it's all okay now, right? That's what they want us to believe! That's what they want our CHILDREN to believe! Sure, just go on out and sleep with whoever you like! Sure! Go on kids, let your scoutmasters touch you in strange places and teach you all about looovvvvvveee!" Peter looked up at me from the boards, and I frowned at him to get his head focused back on those phone calls. I'm sure they're going to start early tonight. What the hell does HE look so hurt for? "What happened to our conservative values? What happened to leaving your doors unlocked at night? What happened to being able to send your kids to school without worrying about whether they're going to come home safe at night? The whole country is going to shit. By the time the 90's are over...we won't have a country left. Violent video games. Thugs and gang bangers rapping about 'Fuck The Police'. NC-17 movies in the theaters. We're not going to make it, people. This country will have fallen apart and will CEASE to exist by the end of next year. Mark my words on that. The end is near, and everybody knows it! I mean, people are shoving their rainbow colored lifestyle in our faces now? We tolerate this sickening display of hubris, and say nothing about it?" I said, taking another sip of my drink. "Well, America, let me tell you what *I* think, and let me tell it to you straight...if you'll pardon the pun! It is NOT okay to be gay! I don't want some pansy ass, pillow biting, queers dancing in our streets, and corrupting the moral fabric of our city! Hell, maybe even the WORLD! Oh, they may whine and complain and cry little pink crocodile tears about their rights and their precious little communities and support groups, but I want them all to know that WE have rights too! We have the right to not be infected with the big sparkly display of perversion you guys seem to be so damn 'proud' of! It's a curse, it's a SICKNESS, and it is SPREADING! Do you know they have gay proms in high schools now? Do you know they have entire gated communities, all to themselves? And NOW...heh...now they want the right to get MARRIED to each other! Ha! Well la-di-dah, ain't THAT special? That will NEVER happen! Not in America!"

Vonetta let me know that we were going to commercial in a moment, and to wrap up the intro segment.

"Well, folks...I'm gonna give it to ya straight, I always do! And I'm being honest when I say that I don't want any giant rainbow FAGS...oops, sorry, I mean flags being waved outside of MY house this weekend. Tell the 'pole stuffers' of America to stop prancing around in their undies and get a clue! You guys wanna talk to me about this, you know the number to the station. And if you don't, look it up. I'm not your 'nanny'! But let me tell you, ya better come with guns blazing folks, because I'm coming out the box swinging tonight! This is MY city, and I'm not giving it up without a fight! Mel Workman, WVMP, give me your thoughts on this." I heard Vonetta shut off my mic and go to commercial, allowing me to lean back and pour myself an even stronger drink than before. I'm gonna need to get up and move around once we get back on air. Actual movement adds power to a good old fashioned rant, even on the radio.

Vonetta walked in and spoke in a slightly hushed voice. "Hey, it's probably like talking to a brick wall, but do you think that maybe you could tone down the name-calling tonight?" She said sarcastically.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Well..." She looked over her shoulder for a moment, and then said, "...He's never really mentioned it, and I never really asked, but...I think Peter might be gay. So, can you try to have a fucking heart for once, Mel? He's just trying to work his way through his last two years of school."

I looked over her shoulder at Peter, and I don't know why I didn't see it before. Soft, flawless, skin. Youthful, medium length, haircut. Slender and slim in a way that was almost 'dainty'. Peter was always so soft-spoken too. No wonder. I knew he was too damn submissive and pretty to be normal.

"Is THAT what he's all worked up about? Well, tell him he better grow a thicker skin and get used to it, because my listeners aren't expecting me to pull punches. Tell him to get his fucking head in the game. We're doing what's best for the station right now. To hell with his sensitive little queer feelings." Vonetta bit her tongue, as her job was solely dependent on me actually wanting her to be there. But she looked really ashamed to even be a part of this show tonight. So what? I'll take my lashes for it in Hell when I get there. Right now, I've got a program to run.

Vonetta began to count me back in from commercial, shooting daggers at me with her eyes. But instead of paying her any attention, I looked over at Peter, sitting beside her, and with a bat of my eyelashes, I gave him a smile and an effeminate wave. Which, pretty much, got him shaking all over again. The pretty little kid practically looked watery in the eyes.

"And we're back, ladies and gentlemen and all of you strange creatures somewhere in between." I had a nasty little urge to really reach out and sucker punch the kid emotionally. I probably shouldn't have pushed it, but I never censored myself when it came to telling it like it is, so I went with my gut instinct. It's kept me on the radio for this long. I've learned to trust it. "So, to everybody listening to the sound of my voice, you might think that I'm exaggerating when I say that this homosexual agenda is infiltrating EVERY walk of life. But nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, I have just learned that our pretty pretty intern, Peter, MIGHT just be one of the infected!" Peter's eyes were definitely welling up with tears as the shock of what I said ripped through him like a bolt of lightning. "You see? It's everywhere! And they are getting sneakier and sneakier about getting into places that us REAL Americans can't. But don't worry folks, if you fellas out there call up and ask him, real nice...maybe our cute little Peter will blow you a kiss. And then, just blow you! Heh!" At that, Peter couldn't contain himself any longer. Vonetta attempted to calm him down, but he started to openly sob and had to run out of the room to collect himself. Vonetta took over the phone lines, her facial expression literally trying to murder me with her gaze alone.

"Gee...I hope Mommy and Daddy weren't listening tonight! I'd hate to pull his little ballerina outfit out of the closet! Hehehe! You see? That's another thing about these so-called 'proud' sissies. They're so SENSITIVE! They cry at the drop of a hat, these days. What is that about? I thought you LIKED being gay. That was your choice, wasn't it? Now you wanna cry about it? To all of you concerned dad's out there, get your kids involved in sports or something! Play catch with them in the park. Then you don't have to worry about them dirtying their knees up in some dingy public bathroom for Father Chester and a group of truck drivers looking for a quick release!″ That'll fire up my audience for sure! I LIKED that harsh little dig! ″Family values, people! That's what we've got to get back to! That's what this country was built on, and that's what is ultimately going to save it." Vonetta let me know that I had a call, and I gave her the nod to put it through. "Ooh, looks like the buttons are already firing up. Let me hear what you've got to say. Yes, caller, where are you from?"

"You're an asshole!" Said the woman on the line.

"Whoah! Watch it lady! We're on the freakin' RADIO here! Hehehe! If you start sounding too much like my mom, I might want to start dating you! Considering you're not as ugly as you sound, that is." I said, egging her on.

"I want you to know that my son, Alex, happens to be a homosexual! And I am very proud of him in EVERY way that a mother could be proud! He has NOTHING to be ashamed of!"

"Really now? Ok, let me just take a stab at figuring out the situation here. You're a single mom? Am I right? No father figure in the house?"

"What does that have to do with my son being proud of who he is?"

"First of all, what you're son is doing is sick and wrong. If you're allowing him to be proud of that, then you're even more screwed up than he is." I told her. She started to get angry, but I cut her off by getting louder and out talking her. "And SECOND...SECOND of all, it was the act of having the REAL world constantly being sugarcoated by his loving 'mommy' that turned him into a helpless sissy in the first place! Get a man, sweetheart. A REAL man who can show him how to be one, himself. If you're too ugly to nab one, bring the kid over to my house and I'll show him what being masculine is all about. Even if I've got to whip the 'sissy' instincts right out of him."

"You son of a bitch! I'm going to do everything in my power to get your show taken off the air! The trash that comes out of your mouth is absolutely unforgivable!"

"Hey, I tell it straight, you choke it down, baby! You knew what this was. Why are you listening?"

"Somebody needs to put some common sense in that tiny little pinhead of yours! You don't deserve to be on the radio, you MONSTER! You're barely a human being!"

"Hey, sweetheart, you know what the difference is between a conversation over the phone and one in real life? With the phone, this little button let's you know when then conversation's over." 'Click'...and it was time to move on to the next idiot with a problem. "You see? This is what I'm saying people. We have gotten so confused about strong family values that we actually go around DEFENDING such a disgusting choice. And don't get all bent out of shape when I use the word, choice! Because that's exactly what it is. Nobody's forcing you to kiss the guy next to you. Hell, I don't wanna do it. It's gross! Two men...humping and grinding on one another? Yuck! Makes me want to run to the nearest church and pray for God almighty to beam me off of this planet for good!" Vonetta, her hand over her face, put through another call for me. "Next caller? Where you from?"

"My name is Shawn, and I'm from Cincinnati." His voice was very 'gay' sounding, so I already knew that I had myself an instant target.

"Shawn from Cincinnati, wow, you sound absolutely adorable, cream puff. I take it you've got something intelligent to tell me?"

"Insult me all you want, but you're not going to change how I feel about myself. I came out of the closet when I was only 13, and I have a steady boyfriend now, a good paying job, and we're getting ready to buy a house together. I grew up with both parents, did well in school, we have JUST as many 'family values' as you do. If not more! Because we dealt with the challenges of being different, and we became stronger for it!"

"I find that hard to believe, Shawn. You're not convincing me here." I told him. "Say, let me ask you something. When you decided to be gay, at THIRTEEN years old, not even old enough to drive a CAR, much less make choices about who you want to have sex with...what was going through your mind? I mean, what made you want to turn your back on your friends, and your family, and God himself...and decide, 'hey, I want to cram a big meat stick up my anus for the rest of my life?' Hmmm? I mean how can you even MENTION family values, when you can′t have a family?"

There was a pause, and then he said, "You know, despite your bewildering ignorance, I'm not going to let you tick me off with your abrasive comments. You're a sad, SAD, man, who feels the need to constantly attack really good people for no other reason than it makes you feel like a big man for a few minutes in your life. And for your information, it's NOT a choice. It's who I am."

"Noooo, no, let me stop you right there, Shawn. Being a homosexual is as much of a choice as any other sexual fetish. Look it up. You weren't born that way. You waited until your little teen-peenie started twitching and DECIDED to start humping the leg of the first person you could get to lay still for you. You and your boyfriend might be blinded by this strange fantasy that you can't help it, but there have been DOCUMENTED cases of men who were cured of their mental illness and set straight. Men with families. Good men, who grew up to teach their own children better than that."

"I used to think your show was all an act, Mr. Workman, but now I'm starting to think that you're really that stupid! You've got to be KIDDING me!"

"Uh oh, you hear that ladies and gentlemen? Our friend, Shawn, sounds like he's starting to get mad. You're an ANGRY fairy, aren't ya? Did I hurt your little sensitive feelings?"

"You are laughably ignorant! Do you know ANYTHING about what it's like to be us? NO! You have no goddamn idea what it's like to be hated, and spit on, teased, and beat up, JUST because you love differently from somebody else! You have no idea how much it HURTS to be attacked for something you can't change about yourself!"

"So why CHOOSE it then??? Stop playing house with you're slutty little male escorts and get a GIRLFRIEND, already! Have you ever even BEEN with a girl? You might just like it!"

"And to think, I actually thought that I could inspire some rational thought in that closed mind of yours. I was wrong. You know, I hope that you find out what it's like to feel completely ALONE in the world someday! What it's like to be bullied and judged without provocation! Gay pride parades were made to bump shoulders with narrow minded bigots like you! And you can't stop progress, no matter how hard you try! Homophobes like you are a dying breed! And the rest of the world can't WAIT for you to vanish so the rest of society can move forward! FUCK YOU!!! And grow up!"

The phone went dead, and I smiled. This job gets easier and easier all the time. "What do you think, people? Am I saying something wrong? Am I off base here? The reason guys like Shawn get so flustered and angry is because I'm not afraid to pull their card and call their bluff! I'm not gonna back down and 'embrace it' and 'accept it' like the rest of you crybabies. I see something undeniably WRONG happening here in my country, and I'm going to fight it with every last breath in my body! Sure, you guys wanna play the sap and say that it's ok to be a homosexual, but what happens when the neighborhood priest touches YOUR kid in a confessional booth? Huh? What happens when you find out little Billy's gym teacher is gay? Or when you find your daughter making out with some other slut on a 'Girls Gone Wild' video? Ohhh, it's a whole different STORY then, isn't it? THEN you wanna cry foul! And all of that 'love' and 'tolerance' bullcrap goes right out the window, and into the freakin' TRASH where it belongs! Cut out the middle man, and save yourself from the horror of having to deal with it later! Take care of this growing disease NOW! I know you're with me, people! Whether you're too afraid to admit it or not."

Vonetta tapped on the window to put through another one.

"Alright, caller, you're on with Mel Workman. C'mon and shout at me."

"Yeah, my name is Frank, and I'm calling from Savannah. I just wanted to let you know that I'm listening to you in my truck and I'm riding with you the whole WAY on this one, man!" He said.

"FINALLY! It's good to hear that somebody out there has a good head on their shoulders and isn't too scared or too much of a kiss ass to put it out there in the open like they should." I told him.

"Damn right, man! I tell you, I had some guy tell me he was queer not more than a week ago! This faggot actually told me he thought I was CUTE!"

"Wow! And what did you do? Did you sock him one?"

"Mannnn, I liked to beat that queer to DEATH right then and there, I tell you! He's LUCKY I got a prison record, because I would have just kept wailing on him till I was sore and tired! Don't you worry though, Mel, I'm gonna see him again! REAL soon!"

I chuckled. "Well, now, Frank, I can't publicly condone any type of physical violence on the show! I'll just say that you should do what feel is right and sane, and leave it at that." I told him. "Thanks for calling, Frank. You're a real American, brother." I hung up on the call, and said, "At least SOMEBODY out there is on my side. I was starting to feel like I was the 'queer' one for a moment there! Heh!" I looked at the booth, and it was time for another commercial. "Alright folks, it looks like it's time for me to give the old voice box a three minute rest. So get your ideas together and give the station a call. Give me a REAL argument! You're making this too easy for me! Mel Workman, 'Saying It Straight', WVMP, we'll be back in a minute."

I sipped some more whiskey and soda out of my cup, feeling energized over what was certain to be a hit episode of the show, when Vonetta walked in. "You really are a bastard, you know that? A true bastard."

"What? Peter? Give me a break." I said. "It's gay PRIDE week, isn't it? He's supposed to be PROUD. So what if I told a few people on the radio? He'll get over it."

"Get over it? Mel, that poor kid is in the bathroom crying his eyes out right now because of what you said. That doesn't register anywhere in your fucked up conscience??? How can you DO that to another human being? How can you be so fucking cruel! What did Peter ever do to you to deserve that?"

"Alright, alright...calm down." I said, trying to get her to take a breath before she lost any more of her quiet rage and replaced it with a full blown hissy fit. "I'll apologize to him when he comes back to the boards. Alright? He's too pretty to be so uptight." Vonetta almost walked out on me. "It'll be FINE, V! The kid will have himself a good cry, go home and lick his Zac Efron poster, jack off until cream splatters all over his chest, and then he'll go right to sleep. Tomorrow he'll wake up and he might not even remember what the big fuss was about. Hell, he might even get himself a date out of this. Look on the bright side."

"Asshole." She mumbled, and went back into the booth.

When the commercial break was over, Vonetta was quick to put the next caller through. Then she left him on the line while leaving the room to see if Peter was ok. Sighhh...great, I'm all on my own here. Some staff I've got working with me tonight. One sissy crying in the bathroom, and a feminist bitch trying to help him do it.

"Alright, next caller, you know the drill. What's you're name and location?" I said, but there was only silence on the other end of the phone. "Hello?" I normally would have hung up by now, but since Vonetta took off on me, I was stuck. I swear, she is going to be SO fired if I don't see her back in that booth in the next few minutes! I don't CARE about her rent, she can either do her fucking job or she can beat it!

After a few seconds, I heard the sound of heavy breathing on the other end of the line. Awkward silences on the radio are a definite no no, so I decided to use it to my advantage. "Well, well, well...it looks like we've got a LIVE one here. You're gonna have to do a lot more than that to turn me on, fudge packer. Heh!" The breathing continued, and I tried to frustrate them into speaking. "If you don't have anything to say, why don't you try hanging up, snowball? I've got a live show to run."

"I know. I've been listening," Said the voice. It was deep. Extremely deep. But not in a man's voice kind of way. It was more like an unnaturally deep teenager's voice on the line. And it had this weird, alien vibration in it. He must have been using some kind of vocal enhancer or something. Or so I assumed. "Finally...it speaks. You wanna say your name for my listeners out there?"

"My name is unimportant at this time, Mr. Workman. Just refer to me as...the Midnight Caller."

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