“That’s the governor laddie!”
Craig exclaimed, almost with a far chipper and less angry tone as though there was a newfound charm within him. The father was confused as a green mist echoed from the words he spoke, diffusing directly to his spouses eyes and his own with a-
As the mist surrounded their vision, eyes glowed a bright green, almost in sync as Craig’s lightened a millisecond later, almost rebelliously while Steven’s was built with domination, as though he was the man charge.
“Ah...that’s right! That would make alot more sense wouldn’t it?”
A clarity rose to Steven, who seemed to be far calmer and less worried about his...the governor’s approval. As he slung his arm over his partner’s shoulder, taking a manly initiative as compared the other usually wrapping around the waist...almost as though that area became off limits.
“Afta-All, the governor just approved our Wagon!”
———————————
Right behind them, the remains of broken down gay memorabilia obeyed ’s the command of Ireland pride. As the formation of white wheels spun around the bottom as it was about time they went mobile.
Most prefers cars and surely they did have some, but the owners loved the simplicity and homeliness of their traveling home. From city to city, or at least for show, the duo was elevated, as layers of wooden ground and walls rose above, with a large display area which seemed to be filled with merchandise for sale.
Painting the wagon red, the men starred at the wagon in shock, with a flat black roof as the insides filled with plans and machinery from engineers. They two wanted to gasp but as the green glow of the mist flickered, they continued on-focusing on themselves and their conversation.
———————————
“Not only that-but having sons of our own would be pretty queer ain’t it?” Craig noted, mildly brushing off the fact he used a degerodatory terms as his eyes struggled to wince at the fact.
“Sides-“
“The more dough to ourselves course!”
Their eyes glowed green again, for money and envy as they only want more, and more. Who has time to raise a child from scratch when the duo of them have suckers to scam.
A black and white exterior in terms of outlook, scam or be scammed, their minds bathed in this arrogance as their former love and morality began to be blackened out.
Peering downward was one of them, as the man next to him followed in pursuit. Almost like Like they were sent back in time, seeing their feet ‘barefooted’ their feet wiggled as they bathed in a balanced hue between the two men. Wiggling as they watch it grow together-into matching size 10s as their toes and bottoms had their prized ‘bowler’ shoes slid on, grayscale and the differences between the two faded as the shoes took on a polished green with red points at the top, black at the bottom, like a symbolism on their nature to come.
The Men’s legs surged large with muscle, as they could only stay still and watch them thicken like a domineering bully. Steven’s had a strained Hard-On as the swelling of the calves beneath his pants were beginning to show off, Craig had his exposed completely as the fierce gay dadmocratic was drooling, focus on the strong muscular thighs while noticing slight reddish strands poking out.
Of course, their lust was short lasted as Craig’s shorts draped down low to his shoes, whose socks shifted into a green which COATED! the pants he now wore...that Steven wore as both were identical, with their figures strained against the material tightly. Their buttocks squared out at the back as these men really knew how to keep in shape and keep...queers of limits.
For some reason, the word ‘queer’ brought a sheepish smirk to their faces, especially at the red haired-tanned below. Almost relishing at the fact that red is overtaking the blue, their left wanted wanted to reach down-only for their right hand to intercept its direction and giving their respective members a tight-
SQUEEZE!
Almost like a buttoned pressed on cue-their hard ons rose larger and girthier as the overwhelming signal of testosterone blackened their surrounding underwear, evaporating every ounce of purity in it. Stretching them into rotten black boxer shorts, but they do say, poison is able to withstand poison, and sometimes even relish in it.
With that realisation, their pectorals inflated wider and wider surging tightly against their shirts which began to crumble over the weight of heterosexuality imposed upon them. With the layering of abs and a wide-strong powered back, their 6ft 2 body screamed like a firm political like figure as it stuck out against the strain. Concealing was necessary, as these two wanted to seize control.
Their blue and pink shirts respectively grew layers, as their back layer bleached into a reddish white and grew buttons down the centre, buttoned down into a fancy smanshy dress shirt-though they got many replicas of those in da wagon. The top had a tightly fit vest on top of it, bathed in a solo harmonious forest green as it rested snuggly over those masculine pectorals and nicely tamed their strong back.
Sliding in half was Steven’s pin as it leaped over on Craig’s upper right breast, resting slightly above their vests as it spun into a barbershop red and white swirl, with flour leaf clovers over on the top and bottom of the pin. Identical to one another.
With pride, the two young heteropublicans..., retropublicans..., straight men flexed their biceps, faces focused to the public as the surged with the same coloration...redness as they rolled up their sleeves. A velvet red bow tie spun beneath their collars, red...but dark red of course. As their strong forearms gave a large proud FLEX! The force shook off the last ‘materialized’ trace of gayness within them-
GRAB!
The diamond of the rings fell forward to the palms which shone as their fingers, almost instantly, gripped the jewel. Partially out of themselves trying to hold on their partnership....was it partnership? Mostly due to their overwhelming greed as their palms thickened wider with the slightly European inspired tan....oh heck! They are part Europeans! Mixing with the remainder of their American genes as the dastardly aspects for their schemes surely rose through the roof.
The remainder of the ring melted down into gold, a rubbery texture as it rubbed their fingers firmly and demolished their former prints and concealed their new heritage under a pair of yellow gloves. Ensuring no prints or evidence being left behind as their wallets thickened with greater intensity and wealth with brand new identification, as the Irish American citizens had earned their way into VIPs of Las Vegas as their new selves did the dirtiest of tricks, love converting into trickery as their grins widened like a neverending sense of euphoria they lacked when they were trying to be respectable members of society, when they wanted a loving gay family, when they preferenced men over women...
All of it seemed like a lifestyle of strangers as the two were probably the most devious lawful crooks. No rings N no commitments, the two of them agreed. They wanted to taste every color of the rainbow...BUT ONLY HETERO RAINBOWS. As the last traces of evidence of their former marriage expanded and simplified into straw, the love they had melting in an instant as the negative feelings of regret merely shifted into a more...business mindset as they lifted the new material.
Their heads simultaneously went crack-CRACK! As they lifted the hat, almost slow-mo. Neck adjusting to the rectangular temples which shaped their facial features neatly and attractively, noses close to a hook as their hair colours meshed into a pure red hue....with white dyed stripes in between strands, taming as it styled gorgeously to give it a barbershop quartet feel...or duet. Ear lobes un-studded and intact as they knew during the 50s, ain’t no boyo be wearing earrings!
The facial hair of the younger of the two retreated back in, taking on a slight red hue as the top of his mane just flowed out with a single curl at the end. This boyo, hated the idea of strictness and control, as any idea of a father was seen out of the young man who only fooled around with gorgeous ladies. As his tolerance was low for both strictness and homos who he aims to con everything, specially the homo, outta em.
Meanwhile, his partner in crime had a bright red stache flowed over his upper lip and he had to be an even greater gentlemen than his partner! He had to fare the ‘Britain’ afta’ all!
His hair took a wide side parter, his true nature rang out as the heteropreneur as he gave a toothy grin at his younger twin.
Practically, that was the only thing customers could tell them apart. ‘Stein’ was always the more technologically advanced of the two and fared the British crowd better with his gentlemanliness. Even sufficing a Parisian honhonhon due to his friendship with a certain france waiter as well as a strong alliance with a particularly well-renowned bank investor that treated him like his second son.
Meanwhile, ‘Crane’ himself did most of the advertising and scheming, and had overall better deals from other merchants due to his overwhelming youthful charisma. The fact American ladies flocked to his rebellious mannerisms, closing the deal always as the lead speaker.
The older middle aged gay father liked to be in charge, and rightfully so did the masculine younger Harrington brother who was bubbling out. Though with youth, comes the love of freedom and rebellion that he got away with being the slightly younger of the two-and surely the American lassies thought so too.
The slightly younger husband felt a sense of dominance and pride he never knew he craved, feeling an overdose of poshness he never had as the gay husband was slowly giving himself to the gentlemanly heterosexual older twin who knew the ins and outs of the fancy crowd.
Their faces could not resist the grimace of the gays being contorted into a nasty smirk, their pearly whites flashing wide like a politician’s smile, their cleft chins were sculpted into perfection. Their stylishly trimmed brows furrowing as the final error corrected for the Red-headed Barbershop twins to be biologically identical.
Sliding onto their head were their identical strawhats they had since their first legal heist as teens, as a matching forest green ribbon tied above with a four leaf clover knot as ribbons are for the lassies they charm. Fitting downwards slightly, their faces spiralled, taking on the final spiral as their inner selves, tipping the exact same hat almost like the closing curtain call of the finale as the windows to their mobile wagon closed, temporarily as their gay selves were about to-
BREAK!
———————
Craig was nearly gone, fighting a losing battle as he tried a last ditch attempt to run away from that...attractive bastard. But the taller and far more hetero salesman took out his trusted wooden cane, as it effortlessly dragged the hoe who was powerless in the Younger Harrington Brother’s mind, being forced to-
STARE
The green consume envy consumed him, a heterofying gaze, the deviousness embracing his political bounty of knowledge as the outer shell of homo froze like porcelain. Manipulate MANIPULATE! All the knowledge and inner soul of a democrat into ruthless cheating of the system...legally.
“Hah, those gay democrats won’t knew what hit em! Ain’t that right me?”
BREAK!
Two green light emerged from the frozen pupils of the ‘stoned’ dad, crack...CrAck CRACK! Green light spewed all out and like an EXPLOSIVE but flashy entrance, comes the younger and more rebellious twin in his true glory. Twirling his cane which formed the remains of the outer shell, he flashed a white smile and stood by the reflection in his mind mirror, giving the Handsome Stud a proud Declaration of Independence.
“Absolutely, Crane Harrington never been outwit by a homo by a long shot!”
———————
Meanwhile...Steven had simply been entranced, as the older matured brother drained away his femininity and homosexuality using a glass jar-absorbing it in as they shifted into lucky four leave clovers.
“So much femininity boyo...tsk tsk, why let that so called faggot take charge when us brothers are ALWAYS THE TOP!”
BREAK!
Memories of him being the bottom evaporated away as he and his twin were always THE TOP, specially when they pinned down the ladies who wanted a piece of the Harringtons. His body mirrored his reflection, as he began to stood up, smirking.
His heterosexuality rose through the roof, maybe even slightly more so than his twin as his gentlemen’s mustache beamed the epitome of masculinity. With a gentlemen’s touch if they so crave it.
“No homo ere’! Only the luck of the irish of Stein Harrington for you lassies~” He said, practicing his inner monologue as he opened his lucky jar of four leaf clovers in which he intends to give out to special lassies, gently whiffing in the scent of ireland...definitely not the metallic scent of robotic bugs placed in each of the clovers inside...
———————
The mist surely saw its job was done, clearing and pushing open the windows to their soul, as well as opening shop. In the darkness within their traveling mobile, the despicable duo flashed identical devious smirks, their money-minded pupils simultaneously emitting a sinister emerald green as though they were the true monsters in society and-
They got out, their facade of charismatic salesmen basked their cunningness as though they were their allies. Their handsomely chiseled faces beamed with radiance as their eyes shone as perfectly identical Irish green, magnetically pulling customers of all kinds like the attractiveness of a four leaf clover, the impression that they were honest and fortunate to be around.
That could be further from the truth...
“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!”
“STEP RIIIIIIIIGHT UP FOR THE GRAND OPENING OF THE-!”
The Harrington Duo did their signature, loud and uninterruptible, INTROOOODUCTION! Louder than ring leaders at a circus. Incites Curiosity like a carnival master. In Sync and Masculine like the members of a barbershop quartet. Professional like an experienced emcee.
Their voices captivated the surrounding hets....and the remaining flocks of gays and dyke who undoubtedly, turn into various shades of were-heterosexual homophobes like the others did. Drawn to the duo as a long line was formed-as though they have been doing it since-
Morning, as in their reality-yes, THEIR REALITY. These two were not to be fooled around with, they intend to go BIG, like the time they cleaned out Las Vegas by charming the waitresses into sliding in favors, scheming those players outta their buck. Though they did so under guises of course, as for how they pulled it off in detail...’trade-secret’.
“And for limited time only-“
“Faith and begorra!”
The cloth was removed, as tons of faith memorabilia was layered stunningly in front of the audience...unknowingly to them, most of them were plated fools gold as the scammers knew what to divert their attention away from to the nastiest of the nastiest homophobic slurs and insults amongst them.
The main merchants and distributor of the pure gray-scaled flags which representing their homophobic black and view of sexuality as well as many hate and subtile filled signs, both modern and retro for conservatives of all kinds. Yes they did support the Christian Pride’s agenda, but most importantly, they cashed in a fortune.
And they intend to earn more....and more.
"We're taking back the rainbows from the gheys, boyos...and making them HET again!"
“We need all your help, and quick before they spread their dastardly gayness any further!”
The Christian Crowd flocked over to the irresistible charm surging from the merchants who invited them over temptingly without warrant or arrest. The governor was so swell to give them a stamp of approval, which guaranteed them to be running the Harrington Heteroporium for a very very long time.
Crane and Stein Harrington did learn from the best after all, as they flashed their devious smirks as the customers made it rain upon them. They were always known as the ‘evil leprechauns’ back in high school, but course-when puberty hit, they were completely unstoppable as all their victims were cleaned out
Closely knit as twins since birth, they overtook wall-street by storm with simple good looks and their irish charm. Extreme favor from the republican and retro crowds boosted their popularity and ratings, especially their narcissistic egotistical view of themselves.
“Don’t you just love being we, O brother of mine?”
“I sure do O brother ol’ mine! But I love being loaded even more!”
The both of them laughed heartedly, with a sense of sinister undertone that was concealed beneath the hatred that was spilling out, rejoicing in the chaos they had profited.