Fifty Shades of Ted Cruz
This is definitely the worst romance you will read today. Also, Ted Cruz is a lizard person sent to destroy humanity, in case you didn't already know.
It’s not even a convincing skinsuit. Come on, “Ted”
"Soon, my pretties," Ted Cruz whispered to the pulsating egg sac warming the unspeakable abominations within. His voice trailed off as he pondered the delicious feast of souls to await. A small bubble rose from the slimy goo protecting his precious young from the caustic atmosphere of this strange alien planet he had been sent to colonize and enslave.
Nothing that could be construed as emotion ever crossed his face when out of the public eye-even in the most joyous of hours, but, for just a brief second, a small spasm in his nourishing membrane of face-slime betrayed a small hint of the satisfaction within to those who know to look for such things. The Ted had become quite good at aping the emotional tics of these "Hu-mons", but, at home with his pretties, the mask fell again.
"Heidi, COME HITHER." he called, using the supplemental air sac in his throat to amplify his voice so that she would hear and obey. “WE SHALL WATCH FICTIONAL STORIES ON THE STREAMING SERVICE NETFLIX.”
He paused and deflated the air sac.
“I must learn more of your strange species and this strange weakness you call feeling.”
Heidi Cruz slowly plodded into the atrium, her dead eyes giving stark evidence to the horrors she had witnessed; crude and horrid testimony of things seen that can never be unseen. She handed him the remote control, then slowly inched away, longing for freedom, praying for death, but hopeful now of only a few short minutes away from that horrid fish-like stare while he thumbed through Netflix.
It was not to be.
"Come to me, enslaved partner and egg bearer, sac of my sac, progenitor of…”
He paused for a second. A membrane pulsed. A fly landed on his forehead directly above his eye. The Ted’s whip-like tongue flicked out and caught it.
“Ah, delicious nourishment. I believe…love is what i mean. Love? That is the correct usage? I am using this Hu-Mon phrase in the appropriate manner? It is so hard to tell. Perhaps what I am feeling is an urge to feed upon tender human flesh?”
Her heart dropped.
“Yes. Love. You are feeling love. Not feeding.”
She spoke in the monotone of the doomed. Anything to avoid another Cancun trip. The Ted was usually content to feed at home on the well-marbled buffet of suburbanites surrounding their Texas home, but sometimes he wanted more exotic treats.
The news lambasted him for leaving Texans in the cold. If they only knew, she thought. Ted Cruz cares not for weather. Ted Cruz cares only for death.
“That is good,” the Ted rumbled. “It is late for too much feeding. My third stomach does get sore if I snack at night. The bits of Hu-Mon stick in my second and third zrrzarks and the rzzaknii folds of my…
He twitched, spasmed, then looked at her with his dead, beady eyes.
“It is unimportant. I am glad I do not require sustenance at this moment. Sit.”
She sat, somehow robotically yet with a spastic jerk at the same time. There would be no moment of escape.
The Ted turned on The American President. It was the eighth time this week. He was determined to learn the correct facial expressions and body language to assimilate. The Hu-mon meat puppets must not suspect.
“SECOND AMENDMENT! GUNS FOR EVERYONE! ARM THE DOGS! BARBECUE! FREEDOM!”
The Ted shouted that at random times when he started feeling like the disguise was slipping or just when it felt nervous or vulnerable. It was an excellent masking strategy in this strange part of Earth.
Heidi jumped. The Ted chuckled in its lizardy way. Her skin shivered as he draped a flaccid and slightly sticky arm around her. It forced his jowls into what he thought the Hu-mons referred to as a smile.
“Your fear is pungent and ripe. It girds the brrrzkian glands. I’m beginning to like this ‘affection’, I believe you call it. The time of my next spawning is near, I believe. Perhaps we shall mate again soon.”
It twitched, then considered.
“Tonight, I believe. Yes. The cycle has begun.”
A small spark of life flashed into her eyes. Just for a moment. Not a spark of happiness, but of pure, distilled terror. As immune as she had become to the unspeakable hell that was her life, there were always moments that could break her. A small whimper almost escaped, but she successfully held it back. Visible and audible terror only excited him more.
“My life-mate,” he whispered into her ear, “this is perfect. This is...forever.”
It considered for a moment.
“For me, anyway. For you it is until you are no longer viable as a baby-making specimen. Then you will be devoured slowly by the spawn of our mating. In a way, I suppose that is forever.”
The screams began then. She screamed until her throat was raw. Until it bled. Until there was nothing left but gasps, then croaks, then nothing. She could scream no more. Even, hours later, after two more screenings, when he led her away toward the bedroom and all of the horrors within, no sound would come.
The Ted did not care whether they came or not. He had what he wanted.
#FiftyShadesofCruz