The year is 2019. Faggots run amok Oregon. Frogs have turned gay and the whites have been forced to return to their wagons.
First, gather your supplies. We are going to try to escape Portland unscathed, We'll decide our destination once outside the trappy walls of homo-city.
Let's go fuck up Texas with our failed ideologies.
Alright. To Texas it is. I need to bring a few fleshlights, as I am unsure about the access to female vaginas along the way.
I have a giant box of frozen hot pockets. In my knapsack I have 5 nes games and an nes. No controlers lads. I am wearing a trench coat and have a shotgun with 7 bullets.
We have hired 10 neckbeards that we can harness to our wagon and pull us. I have promised them 3 virgins once we reach Texas.
To escape Portland, we had to plaster our wagon with resist stickers and grow local. We also will be passing out fem books to anyone who inspect our nazi wagon.
I forgot to mention, I have the sickness. The night before departure, I got smashed and toxic. I found myself at some trap bar. When I woke up, there were two tiny dicks in my anus. I strangled them with my nes coords. We will need to pick some more up on the way. Maybe we can find a normie yardsale outside this hellish city.
The neckbeards begin trudging forward. I have to constantly feed them thawing hotpockets. This will be a problem in the future. We may need to hunt for more food. I am wary though. I hear there are Indians lurking that are very aggressive. They hoard smokes and hot pockets. I need both.
As the wagon lurches through the streets of Portland, a protest as ensued. Dozens of otherkin seem to be assaulting people dressed in animal outfits.
One of the otherkin approaches holding a giant dildo as a weapon.
It speaks. I do not understand what it has said. My understanding of otherkin is limited. I offer up a neckbeard for safe passage. We are down to 9.
I look off into horror as the otherkin and the people in animal outfits defile the neckbeard. I will not go into detail. I know children are here.
Some youtuber stands in our way. He holds a microphone. He begins to interview me.
I unshackle the 9 neckbeards and give them some dice to roll.
The youtuber seems to be some gay guy from california. His mic says "slightly offensive."
I tell him we are going to Texas. He listens and inspects our wagon. At one point I am fairly sure he grabbed my ass. He explains that everyone knows him on the faggot coast and he wishes to join the caravan.
My eyes squint while I ponder.
1. We may be discovered as we make our way south.
2. He has a black cameraman. He can't come unless we white face him.
3. He might just be trying to stick his penis in my anus.
I say ok. Just white face your cameraman.
They agree.....I agree.
The sun has begun to drop and we have only made it a few miles in Portland.
The many protests have left the streets full of trash and garbage. Yeah the traps and fems still were ambling about.
Up ahead someone had smashed a fire hydrant. The streets were flooded. Syringes, tampons, and other beauties floated aimlessly in the river.
Slighly Gay(offensive) looks at me and sticks the mic in my face. He looks serious.
What do we do?
Well....
1. We can ford the river.
2. We can attempt to find another way around.
That's it? Slightly Offensive looks at me.
Can't we cock it?
I sigh. It's only our first day. I am not that desperate yet. He looks puzzled.
I say nevermind. What should we do?
good shit op this needs to be a real game
The black....well now white camerman looks to us. He looks fearful.
The water is atleast 3 feet deep at this point. The police from afar seem to be just leaning against their cars chatting.
Some black masked guy is smashing some windows.
I look at our camerman.
What's wrong?
He says.....Nig....err leader. I can't swim.
Oh shit. I can't risk drowning one of new white crew. I need to think for a bit.
We're going to settle down for the night and come up with a plan. We need to gather our weapons and forage for food.
The 9 neckbeards have become anxious and continue to graze towards some local gaming store.
It's closed. But the window was smashed out earlier. I unshackle them and let them fulfill their need. They move slowly inside and begin their daily needs.
As for me and Slightly Offensive. We huddle. He pulls out the mic again. Our white camerman gets his camera ready.
Slightly Gay says I don't have any weapons.
I smirk. Yes you do. I lean in and whisper into his ear.
We need supplies and more food. We head out to forage. Our cameraman guards the wagon.
Fuck! I got dysentery.
The sun has retired.
Most of the lights have been blown out during the protests.
Earlier I had Slightly Offensive strip naked. Then we donned him with the trench coat.
When we exited the wagon he was still carrying the mic.
I told him....no. You won't need that where we are going...I looked deeply into his eyes.
He understood. This was a dangerous forage and we couldn't be recognized.
He asked if there were Indians lurking.
I said no my friend. Worse.
We kept our heads down and continued to move through the streets. All sorts of wild was playing that night.
We saw purple haired men who had nose rings and wore skirts. Black masked skinny boys danced around smashing the remaining lights.
The police seemed to be enjoying this. They continued to lean against their cars.
Slightly Offensive spotted a half finished veggie burger in a trash bin.
I said NO! Don't touch that. Too much onions my boi.
He nodded and we walked swiftly. We were almost there....
i get into my car and drive.
im hungry so i check my based chicfila app for the nearest location.
im tired so i stop at a hotel
A street light flickered. It was autistic. It was speaking. Flick flick flick FLIIICK FLIIICK FLIICK flick flick flick.
Slightly Gay gave me a look. I think we both understood.
That was the code that a Oregon light was about to die. We both nodded and bonded slightly.
Slightly illuminated was a smashed shop.
The veggie eaters appeared to have laid ruin to this place. From around the corner we heard shouting.
"No fascists No KKK No...."
I grabbed Slightly Offensive and we darted into the destroyed shop. We noticed the sign....
"Meat Deli"
It was a mess. The walls were sprayed with slogans and such. Much of it I could not read. I am not well versed in the language of the veggie eaters.
A tear rolled down Slightly Gay's cheek. I wiped it away for him.
We began to gather....and gather we did.
I won't go into detail, but we both stuffed our pockets and his trench coat with salami and cracked pepper turkey.
In the back area we heard a moan. The hair on our neck perked up like a million cold nipples!
Her moan morphed into a roar. I shouted!
Oh shit! It's one of the BULLS!
She had a nose ring, cut off shorts and some shirt that was aiding in her rolling stomach of lard.
Slightly Offensive moved behind me.
I wish I had my mic...he wimpered.
HMMMMMMPH! It snorted and lowered it's head. We all danced for a few moments, moving around the broken tables and thinly sliced meat cuts on the floor.
IT'S GOING TO CHARGE!
With the full force of her bullish lesbian body and her tiny black hooves she came!
.........to be continued
suicide for being gay
A messy ball of short hair crashed into Slightly Offensive as I side stepped the beast.
He let out a faggoty grunt/yelp and went flying across the room.
The shotgun, which I forgot to mention that I brought, was already loaded. I aimed and fired.
The beast dropped. Slightly Offensive was lying on his side holding his ribs. He was obviously hurt, but this needed to be done.
I ran out back and grabbed a carving knife and plastic trash bag. With quick work and my sloppy skills I had gathered enough meat to last us for a little while. Or possibly something to now trade the Indians with.
I helped Slightly Gay back up and we hurried back to the wagon.
The shouted to the camerman! Harness the neck beards! We're fording the fucking river!
Without hesitation(now I know why Slightly Gay kept him around), he carried out my orders.
I layed Slightly Offensive down in the back of the wagon. I think he broke some ribs....maybe internal bleeding.
Hold on my friend.
The white camerman and I grabbed fiercing onto the nipples of the front neckbeard. He winced, but did not hesitate.
We sloshed through the dirty water. It was not as deep as we thought. The smell of street shit was the worst part.
We made it to dry land and the camerman sighed deeply. I told him to stay with the neckbeards. We were going to force march through the night.
I climbed into the back of the wagon and frowned. Slightly Offensive was hurt bad.
He looked up at me and forced some words from his mouth.
Why did you make me get naked and put the trench coat on?
I shrugged. If the Deli was empty then I was going to trade you to some fags for some crystal meth.
He nodded and slipped into a slumber.
Today was a success. No one died.
Here is a map of where we are through day 1 and into the night. Any suggestions? Route 205?
Head to Eagle Creek? I heard there are peaceful Indians who like to trade there.?
start butchering the traps to use as food for fetish purposes
The Oregon trail now runs from San Diego California to Portland Oregon.