The Queertopian Meadows. Part I.

Welcome to Queertopia.

Think about a land beyond G-A-Y and just short of Never(touch that young boy)land, direct yourself straight to the Southern star; a long, hard, strenuous journey. However, when you get there it's like nothing you've ever expected. Long thin streams of white cream run all along the coast, acting as an excellent tourist attraction as well as fertilizing the land and being the national dish. The sun is always shining. The rainbow flag stands erect in the centre of the capital, Old Compton, and in the heart, soul and pants of each of its humble citizens.

Like in every great nation, there is also a hierarchy, and none as infamous as the Gay Family. There are the King and Queen, who spawned two children: the great and wise Prince of the East and the wicked Gaybe of the West. Like all great men, there is a humble faghag behind them, illustrated perfectly by Princess Lyna: a beautiful young girl who is, however, rather naive. Their wedding was a white one: white swans, white napkins, white dresses (on both participants), and cheesy white smiles. Bride and Groom said their vows, swearing an oath to obey the teachings of Gaga and live by the ways of Madonna.

After the wedding there was a reception held in the Royal Court and therein was a majestic performance from Diva Fever, an avid influence over contemporary pop culture in Queertopia. Little and large sausages were served covered in the national dish. As all marriages that have occured over the years in the nation, the royal vibrating staff is passed from generation to generation, and this is how it would be today, or was to be.

The royal advisor finished giving her speech, which is the equivalent to parliamentary approval of the match. The regal Queen stood. Looking down upon her subjects she felt proud - people had turned up wearing the colours of the empire: blues, reds, yellows, purples...especially purple. The scene was set, the newly wed couple approached the cock-shaped podium to receive the jewel-encrusted vibrating staff. The people were just finishing the anthem, with a crescendo of "I will survive, yea, yea!" when the doors to the royal court swung open...

There he stood, the Wicked Gaybe of the West, draped in black and possessing the only thing the average gay man has ever feared... clogged pores. He was technically the first adopted son and should be the one to own the staff, but his definite virginity never allowed him to legally qualify for the position. He fled the kingdom a while ago after discovering he had a slight Oedipal complex, only reversed. In his hands he grasped the complete series box set of Will & Grace, including unseen edits.

"I will destroy it, I swear", Gaybe spat on the ground by the feet on the royal couple.
"You know not what you do!" the Queen said, sensing the panic that was growing in the room. Most of the people had begun to pray to Gaga or say goodbye to their loved ones. The Queen remained calm, and composed herself, "Son, please, for all that is right and just in Queertopia, give me the DVD".
He snarled, and clutched his cape tighter to himself. "Never!" he hissed. He grabbed the staff and whispered an evil spell then he disappeared, with a poof, ironically.

In the coming days a dark grey cloud arose over Queertopia; the only silver lining is that a homosexual adventure had begun, as bright and shiny as a supernova and as long and hard as a...well, you know.