dramatic satirical illustration depicting a dystopian scene, two disheveled revolutionaries
A tale of misplaced rebellion, echo chambers, and a man they called Cheeto Hitler.
Joshua Underchiever adjusted his tactical vest, which, if he were being honest with himself, was a little too tight in the midsection. Years of exclusively consuming soy-based protein shakes and avoiding anything resembling manual labor had left his physique lacking the definition he imagined a revolutionary should have. No matter. He had passion, he had rage, and most importantly, he had a Twitter account where all the right people told him he was on the right side of history.
His life partner, Karen B. Stairren, stood beside him, gripping her non-binary-inclusive AR-15, which she insisted should be available to everyone except their political enemies. She had dyed her hair a stunning shade of neon blue, shaved on one side, and her septum piercing gleamed in the sunlight. If anyone so much as breathed a word against the struggle, she was ready to cancel them in real-time.
“Are you ready, comrade?” she asked, her voice carrying the conviction of someone who had never actually fought for anything in her life.
Joshua took a deep breath. “We’ve been ready since the night of the Orange Dawn,” he said solemnly, referring to the fateful day Cheeto Hitler had somehow won re-election despite the entire media, Hollywood, and Twitter assuring them he wouldn’t. The fact that the economy was booming, crime had plummeted, and the Deep State seemed to be crumbling only proved to Joshua that this was exactly how fascism functioned.
“The time is now,” Karen whispered. “We take out the dictator, and the revolution begins.”
The Man Himself: Cheeto Hitler
Inside the Oval Office, President Cheeto Hitler sighed as he shuffled through another stack of classified documents that, unbeknownst to Joshua and Karen, detailed the extent of corruption that had infected every institution of government. He ran a tired hand through his distinctive, golden mane, which the media insisted was fake despite repeated attempts to prove otherwise.
“They still don’t get it,” he muttered. “They still think I’m the villain.”
His loyal advisor, a battle-hardened ex-marine known only as Patriot X, nodded solemnly. “Sir, they’ve been programmed since birth. Woke Mind Virus has them in its grip. Their phones, their schools, even their overpriced Starbucks orders reinforce the propaganda. They can’t break free from it.”
Cheeto Hitler looked out the window at the protestors hurling bricks at the sky because they were convinced climate change was caused by their political enemies. He sighed. “I just wanted to lower taxes, bring jobs back, and stop the child trafficking rings. But noooo—I’m the bad guy.”
“Sir,” Patriot X said gravely, “they’re coming. The woke insurrection is making their move.”
Cheeto Hitler rolled up his sleeves. “Let them come.”
The Reckoning
Joshua and Karen stormed the gates of the White House, convinced that they were reenacting the French Revolution despite having no real understanding of history beyond what Netflix docuseries told them.
“This is for the oppressed!” Joshua shouted, raising his fist in the air.
Karen echoed him. “Death to fascists! No justice, no peace!”
They burst into the Oval Office, where Cheeto Hitler sat calmly behind his desk. He didn’t look like the cartoonish monster they had been led to believe. He wasn’t foaming at the mouth, screaming about supremacy or banning books. In fact, he was reading a book himself—something about the Constitution, a document they had been told was outdated and irrelevant.
“You’re finally here,” Cheeto Hitler said, setting the book down. “Took you long enough.”
Joshua and Karen raised their weapons.
“We’re here to end your dictatorship!” Joshua declared.
Cheeto Hitler leaned back. “Alright. Define dictatorship.”
Karen blinked. “Uh… it’s when, like, someone controls everything and takes away people’s rights!”
Cheeto Hitler nodded. “You mean like how your friends in Silicon Valley control speech? Or how your universities silence opinions they don’t like? Or how corporations force employees to follow ideological purity tests? That kind of dictatorship?”
Joshua hesitated. That wasn’t what Twitter told him a dictatorship was. Dictators were supposed to be people who gave too much freedom to the wrong people—like truckers, farmers, and people with flags.
“You… you put children in cages!” Karen sputtered.
“You mean the cages Obama built?” Cheeto Hitler said.
Joshua’s grip on his rifle tightened. “You banned trans rights!”
Cheeto Hitler raised an eyebrow. “What rights did I ban?”
“Uh…”
Karen looked to Joshua for support.
“I bet you hate minorities!” she finally blurted out.
Cheeto Hitler shrugged. “Lowest minority unemployment in history. Prison reform. Increased funding for historically black colleges. I assume you’d rather have them dependent on welfare instead?”
Joshua and Karen’s heads spun. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. He was supposed to be a cartoon villain! He was supposed to be screaming about authoritarianism while twirling his mustache!
Instead, he was… making sense?
“I don’t get it,” Joshua mumbled. “You were supposed to be the bad guy. The news said you were the bad guy.”
Cheeto Hitler sighed. “Maybe you should think for yourselves for once.”
Karen’s mind snapped back to reality. “No! This is a trick! Facts are white supremacy! Truth is a social construct!”
Joshua nodded furiously. “We have to trust the experts!”
And with that, they opened fire.
The Aftermath
The firefight lasted exactly four minutes. Karen and Joshua, despite their rigorous Call of Duty training, were no match for the highly trained security of the White House.
As they lay wounded on the ground, Cheeto Hitler stood over them, shaking his head.
“You were never my enemy,” he said, “but you were too far gone to see it.”
Karen, coughing, reached out a trembling hand. “Are… are we the baddies?”
Joshua gasped. “We should have… touched grass…”
And then, silence.
Cheeto Hitler exhaled, looking down at the casualties of propaganda. He didn’t want it to end this way. He just wanted America to thrive.
Patriot X placed a hand on his shoulder. “Sir, the people are waking up. The truth is spreading. The Deep State is crumbling.”
Cheeto Hitler nodded. “It’s not about me. It never was. It’s about saving this country from the lies.”
He looked out at the horizon, where a new day was dawning.
And he knew, deep down, that America would rise again.
