TheDeprogram
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(Absolutely Haram) Deprogram Fan Fiction...Courtesy Of A Patron
🕑 Added 2021-11-30 21:35:42 +0000 UTCWe got this lovingly crafted bit of literature from one of our more creative patrons, and we just had to share it with the rest of you. Without further ado...here it is:
It is a cold January. Sitting down and reading meticulously, our protagonist is enjoying a moment of peace and quiet. He gets startled.“Billetkontrolle!”
He looks up and sees a man and a woman enter the cart, both in a black uniform with red accents. They start checking the passengers. They finally reach down and greet our protagonist. “Grüezi! Billetkontrolle.”
He looks down into his bag, opens up his handbook and pulls out a letter, paranoid about the train employees seeing what’s inside. He hands over the letter and after reading it, the man asks him: “Hättit si mir ihre Uswiss?”
The language was something our protagonist hadn’t encountered yet, so he has to collect himself. “I’m sorry, I don’t speak German. Do you understand English?”
The man furrows his brow and turns to his colleague. “Hey chom mal dohäre, de Türk cha ke dütsch.”
The young lady rushes to them, her eyes doing a terrible job at hiding the anger. “Schrei ned so zügs umenand, sötige Rassismus gseht mer höt nöme gern!”
She turns to our hero. “Please forgive my friend’s rude manners. May I see your ID?”
Her voice is kind and our protagonist obliges.
“Well, thank you for your cooperation, Mr.… Hakim, is it?”
“Yes. Is everything in order?”
“Everything is fine, we just needed to check that the reserved ride is indeed for you.”
“I’m glad everything is alright. Can you maybe tell me how many stops there are left till I am in Zurich?”
“It’s only four stops. What’s the occasion?”
“I am going to a medicine conference.”
“Oh! A doctor? Well, I hope you enjoy your trip.”
The two leave for the next carriage and Hakim relaxes back into his book. He is glad his first conversation with the locals went well even if the casual bigotry annoyed him. He couldn’t help but think, do I look Turkish? He shakes the thought and focuses on his lecture. Time flies without him noticing and he arrives at his destination.
He makes a beeline for his hotel where he can finally throw down his things. In his room he again reaches for his handbook. It turns out he was trying to hide a thinly framed picture. The man that is to be seen on it is one he admires, Vladimir Lenin. He was not nervous about the man being recognized. As a matter of fact, he feared that it would be the gigantic heart he drew around his idol that would make for an awkward conversation.
He puts up the picture on his nightstand and takes off his clothes to take a shower.
As a doctor he knows he shouldn’t shower too long, but the warm water is heaven to his muscles tensed up from the harsh winter’s cold. Snow sucks! he thinks.
After washing his hair he takes up the soap and starts REDACTED, the water washing the foam off his majestic abs. He makes sure to properly clean off his sweat. Reaching back, he tries to clean his back as best he can. While struggling, he can’t help but remember the reason why he decided to go to this conference. Funny, I came here to try not to think of Yugopnic, but I can’t help but remember how it’s usually those muscular hands washing my back.He gives up and just moves lower past his torso to his Redacted and Redacted.
Usually, thinking of his lover would help him decide how to entertain himself for that evening, but this time, it is for naught. He is too concerned with the crisis plaguing his love life to get a raging hard on like he usually does in this situation.
Lethargic, he touches his lips and remembers...
●
“We can’t do this! You know I am taken!”
“So what? You know you love me!”
“Yes! But I love him too!”
“For Mao’s sake! Can’t you relax and be honest with your feelings?”
“We can’t….”
●
The memory fills him with guilt the way he was filled back then, although with something else. He had betrayed the man of his dreams, with his best friend nonetheless.
Laying down and covering himself in bed he thinks, I’m such a slut.
He had agreed to the event hoping to flee from his issues and recuperate some strength but the guilt had followed him through the nations. He was confused. I love Yugopnic… but I also love JT….am I having second thoughts?
He shakes his head and goes to sleep hoping for the next day to be better.
The morning comes. It’s slightly warmer so Hakim feels confident enough to go outside and meet the city. After a short walk, he reaches a place where he feels safe from tourist spots preying on him. He is impressed by the multiculturality of the district. The diaspora communities in Switzerland seem to be vast, I wonder if they were all forced here over poverty….
Further down he comes across a small family restaurant. He recognizes he words over the entrance and thinks, he would love this.
Suddenly a middle-aged man comes flying out of the window. “CURVA!!!” He drops down, shocking Hakim. “Are you alright Habibi?”, Hakim asks.
With no time to answer, the man, scared for his life, dodges a chair flying at him. Suddenly our protagonist hears this familiar voice. “Have you or have you not seen a Turkish looking guy called Hakim or not?!”
Hakim freezes. He isn’t sure on whether to run or stay. Why is he here?!, he thinks and before he knows it, he is looking the man he spent countless nights embracing, in the eyes.
“THERE YOU ARE!”
“Yu…, Yugopnic… Why are you here?”
“NO! Why are you here, Curatz?! Didn’t you say you didn’t want to go?”
“We… Well, I changed my mind. Stuff like this looks great on a resume.”
“Shut it, Hakim! We are communists! We are supposed to stay poor! You’ve been acting really strange, tell me what’s wrong!”
Yugopnic was furious. Without a word, Hakim had suddenly been gone, and Yugopnic had spent countless nights failing to sleep wondering what was haunting his lover. He feels his shirt tighten up, as per Slavic tradition his buttoned shirt was a size too small, the constant shouting pressing his chest out. The buttons are begging for the sweet release of death. He forces himself to calm down just to notice that his darling’s face is close to tears. Gently laying his hand on Hakim’s face, he is trying to making him feel safe.
Hakim is suffering, his lover just went from justifiably mad to the lovingly calm he had all those years ago fallen in love with him for. For a moment, all doubt had gone. With a hand on his chest, Hakim decides to confess. “Yugopnic! I’m sorry but I…”
His thunder was stolen! Yugopnic had not come alone. Hakim remembers how he had invited the couple’s best friend for vacation at his place. It couldn’t be, but it was. “It’s really weird to see so many assault riffles in a city. Sorry Yugopnic, I couldn’t find him either.”
Hakim’s eyes open wide. “JT?! Oh? You came as well?”
An improvised answer flies right back. “Oh? Ehm… yeah! Yugopnic was worried sick for you. I came along riding shotgun even though his Mercedes felt like it was gonna die any minute.”
Yugopnic clearly sees there is some weird tension between the two. Worried they might be fighting he recommends going back to where Hakim is staying. TJ books a room on the same floor and Yugopnic joins his significant other. He wants to alleviate his partner’s worries but unbeknown to him his kind approaches only make it worse.
“Hakim, are you alright?”
“I don’t know…”
“I don’t know what’s wrong but…. Please talk to me when you are ready.”
“Oh Yugopnic!”
Hakim is close to tears and can’t help but fall into his man’s arms. They kiss.
Embracing each other, they both try to show their upmost affection. Suddenly Hakim feels something poking his leg. “Yours may be shorter, but it’s definitely hungrier.”
Yugopnic’s pride was stung, Hakim being the brat he usually is knows exactly how to push his buttons. With his strong Slavic arms, he throws Hakim on the bed. He tears his shirt off just to find Hakim admiring his body. Both get rid of their pants and Yugopnic Redacted, he then Redacted and Redacted. Hakim being overwhelmed by pleasure wants to return in kind. He turns Yugopnic on his back and Redacted. They keep going with a fury only fated lovers ever could and unbeknownst to them the hotel happened to have very thin walls. The Swiss may like to think they are progressive, but this was nothing those filthy liberals could ever be prepared for.
Shocked by the ferocious concert of moans, the whole floor’s guests come out of their rooms standing by their doors. They are scandalized, but no reaction is as intense as that of a man overcome by jealousy.
JT turns back into his room slamming the door in a blind rage. The force of the door crashing into its frame even makes a small mirror hanging by the entrance fall on the floor and shatter. “APPLEPIE!” He cursed like an American usually does.“He said he loves me! How can he?!”
Holding back his tears, JT looks out of the window. The Zurich skyline is in no way as impressive as what is common in his nation across the ocean, but the building next over is still large enough to block his view. The building had definitely been built after the hotel.
JT, clenching his fist, decides to go to sleep. As an American usually does, he takes a handful of opioids and swallows them at once.
The next day comes and JT wakes up to the cleaning lady knocking at his door. He stands up and decides to go for breakfast where he meets Yugopnic.
“Damn dude. Slept in? I guess that’s why people talk of an opioid crisis.”
“You never hear me complain about your Rakia, do you?”
“Calm down, sleepyhead! I was just joking.”
JT sits down. His throat is sore from the meds so he only takes a small slice of bread doubting he could swallow more.
“Where’s Hakim?”
“At the conference.”
“I see.”
Silence strikes the table. Yugopnic, reminded of the similar tension there was between Hakim and JT, moves in on JT.
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“You and Hakim have been acting weird, what’s up?”
“Apple pie!”
Silence strikes again. JT, feeling pressed into a corner and spiteful of the previous night, looks Yugopnic in the eyes and says: “I fucked him.”
Yugopnic’s heart sinks to his stomach. He had expected something to be wrong, but in now way did unfaithfulness cross his mind.
JT immediately regrets his brash confession; he should have known this was bad. He curses the fact that he has a working conscience because he isn’t a filthy liberal. He stands up and, unable to look his friend in the eye, leaves.
Confused and unsure what to feel Yugopnic stands up and, on instinct, follows TJ to his room. JT is shocked. “What… Why did you follow me!?”
“The only way to save this relationship is to get even!”
He’s looking JT in the eyes but the one he’s talking to is Hakim.
JT is scared. He doesn’t understand, he has just broken his friend’s heart, yet here he was with both hands on his face. Reason left his mind and he reciprocates. They kiss.
In this embrace there is no love. As soon as they kiss, the clothes fly off just as quick. JT is unsure about what he wants but Yugopnic is not. He turns TJ around and with no warning he Redacted. JT is overcome with pain but he soon learns he enjoys it. He screams out and presses against. He has found the passion of the bottom. Yugopnic just keeps pounding with no break. He wants to make things right. He wants to lift the guilt of his lover’s heart and as he does JT’s manhood keeps Redacted.
As quick as they started, they were done.
“Curva! What was I thinking?”
“Please…. Let’s never talk of this again…. I am flying back on my own…. Don’t worry about me.”
Hakim comes out of the hall after the conference just to witness his lover kick down some random kid. “My boombox!” the boy screamed.
“I am communist! It’s OUR boombox!”
Hakim chuckles as Yugopnic notices him. They move to meet each other halfway as they reach for each other’s hands. Hakim is moved to tears. “Darling….”
Yugopnic cuts him off. “Don’t worry…. I know….”
Hakim can’t hold back a tear. “You… You do?”
“Yes.... And it’s fine now….”
Hakim, confused, asks: “You didn’t kill JT did you?”
“What!? No!”, Yugopnic exclaims. “Let’s just say we are even, he flew back to Yeehaw land and said everything is fine.”
They both can’t hold back their tears. They had overcome their struggle and all it had cost was JT’s anus and thus their love was saved and they lived happily ever after till they were suicided like Epstein. The End.
Comments
WalterVonSchönkopf
Just let JT join the bloody throuple! *lmao* I would buy a copy if this was printed, by the way. I've never read such dedicated prose about non-fictional people before!
Ro Anad
This story is insanely REDACTED. Literally made me REDACTED all over my REDACTED.
MyPperIsBigger
Jesus, guess we are all critics
The Deprogram
Yugopnik here - my favorite part is how my name is misspelled everywhere. Gets me kind of hot and bothered tbh
