When I burst forth from Earth’s molten core into downtown Manhattan, I had one intention: to destroy every living thing on Earth. “I will turn the world into my dominion of shadows, a barren wasteland of chaos.” The humans shrugged, unfazed by my horrific threat. “Also, I’m a lesbian.”
The humans screamed, their faces twisted in disgust. “Oh God, it’s going to make us design websites for its gay wedding!”
As I picked up my first victim in my serrated claws, I expected him to beg for his life. But instead, he said, “I think you just haven’t been with the right guy yet.” As I approached a school, ready to vaporize it with my eyes, humans shrieked, “No, that monster will teach the children how to scissor!” When I wrapped my thirty-foot-long tail around a woman’s neck, she wheezed, “It’s really cool you’re killing me, actually. Representation matters.”
I foolishly believed being a lesbian was just another part of me, like my ability to breathe a noxious gas that turns human organs into slurry. But these humans didn’t care that I was destroying them. They just wondered which character I most identified with on The L Word.
