The citric acid threats went too fucking hard. Now they will pay...
Fully dilated and fully automatic, the new rifles shot with 41% accuracy. Alpha Troon Penny or "Phil Metal Jacket", as he was known in the army, was the self-appointed general of the Trans Alpaca Ranch Defense System.
The T.A.R.D.S were immensely important to the successful future of the ranch, more important than threatening locals or grifting on Twitter.
"They don't call us tenacious for no reason!" Phil screamed with his fist in the air. Before him, there was a line of new recruits of all sizes, but mostly one bricky body shape. Troons had come in droves with their gender affirming ammunition to give infantry support to the Tranch.
Goddamn heart emojis just weren't enough sometimes.
They had to complete their basic training courses, things worked differently here for this inclusive army. They all spent a good amount of time with each trainer first.
Kevin was the unspoken of one. He worked them in CQC- coom quarters combat, in which they were locked in Kevin's play pen with him and left alone....tortured for hours with his most degraded fantasies to teach them not to break under pressure. There were no call-out posts about it. He had sucessfuly done the impossible of making social media troons shut the fuck up.
Phil was going to teach them Krav Maga but they got too frightened of the word "MAGA" and he decided on some other martial art drills instead.
Each recruit held a newly painted pastel rifle and were taught by Paul "Troon Boone" Nelson how to look into their neighbors houses. They were also given cope scopes to watch the road and mountains with. It was for firing accuracy and further gender affirmation as they knew the bigot army would surely take them if they got ahold of them.
Morning drills consisted of farm chores and laps around the farm herding alpacas while Phil was chasing behind them with a handmade flog. Afternoons of watching Troon Boone stuff his face while they got their MRE's and HRTs. Nights spent in the Kevpen changing cum diapers while the other tranchers play Magic the Gathering. They ...couldn't hear the screaming.
In the mornings they would rise, anuses torn asunder, to do it all again. Such it was to be a member of the Tenacious Unicorn T.A.R.D.S.
