Except for a new novel by Mike Baron
The crowd knotted around a dispute involving two women, each with a Mohawk, facial piercings, and a coterie of supporters. A woman with a green Mohawk, who weighed three hundred and fifty pounds and wore a VIRGINIA VAGINA shirt, snarled at a woman with a red Mohawk, who weighed two hundred and seventy-five, and wore a CAROLINA VAGINA shirt. Each shirt featured the same stylized vagina.
Virginia pointed at Carolina. “That’s our vagina! Turn over all your shirts immediately or we will sue!”
“My ass!” Carolina responded. “I designed it myself! I am an award-winning lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, questioning, intersex, and asexual designer!”
“You’re full of shit!” Virginia fired back. “You can’t be lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, questioning, intersex, AND asexual!”
Carolina circled, like a panther ready to pounce. “I can be whatever I say I am. If I say I’m an award-winning lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, questioning, intersex, and asexual designer, that’s who I am!”
“You didn’t design that vagina! I did! And I’m an award-winning transsexual vegan Pagan!”
Then thumped together like sumo wrestlers, each reaching for the others Mohawk, but there was little to grab. Virginia ripped out Carolina’s nose ring. Carolina bit off Virginia’s earring. They fell to the ground panting while their followers urged them on.