Work Text:
Katy Perry, who has been a consistent predictor of flop since 2017, performed at Momala’s rally on the eve of the 2024 U.S. presidential election. When Momala shook hands with Katy Perry, an uncanny unity rose amongst the f**s and the hags, a collective sense of dread—Katy Perry has doomed Mother Harris.
“The Flick of the Cunt (THEFUC)” is a curse inflicted by the flop goddesses upon those gullible enough to engage in physical contact with Katy Perry. The first known documentation of THEFUC was when Perry emerged from her mother’s birth canal, when her parents held her for the first time. They have since become Republicans.
In 2016, Hillary Clinton hugged Perry after Perry performed at a campaign rally. Guess who lost to Trump in 2016? Hillary Diane Rodham Clinton. In that year, Rihanna released her final album and just went on a hiatus after giving us “Consideration (ft. SZA)” and “Needed Me” to work on her makeup line. Carrie Fisher died. Debbie Reynolds died. Florence Henderson died. It was a dark year for women.
Katy Perry’s next album, Witness, would be a flop. Swish, swish, bitch. Featuring Nicki Minaj.
Three years later, Perry respawned in Taylor Swift’s homosexual hate crime of a music video “You Need to Calm Down,” where Katy hugged Taylor in a hamburger costume. The curse took a while to take effect, because Taylor Swift’s next album folklore wasn’t a flop, but everything else since then has been dismal. Evermore? More like never, whore. Midnights? More like Mid. The Tortured Poets Department? IDFK more like The Tortured Consumers Department. Because listening to those 32 fucking tracks was torture. And Post Malone in your first track? Baloney loud-ass bitch.
During Biden’s inauguration, Perry performed her hit song “Fireworks,” the music video of which famously features Perry sprouting fireworks from her tits while a child cancer patient watches. Guess who flopped? Joseph Biden. Foreign policy failures, a technically healthy macroeconomy undermined by corporate price gouging, and a debate performance that marked the end of a campaign already in shambles.
Momala took over for Biden. The world watched nervously as she picked her campaign anthem. Is it gonna be “WOMAN’S WORLD” by Katy Perry? Are we gonna have to hear “Sexy, confident, so intelligent” at every rally? Thank the flop gods, no. It was “Freedom” by Queen Bey (and also Kendrick Lamar but in solidarity with women I will erase him). Katy Perry had reportedly offered up “WOMAN’S WORLD” for Mother Harris’s use, but she “politely declined.” No flops allowed, Katy.
Then came the turning point. I’d like to preface this by saying, sure, Momala made mistakes. Yes, she said America will have the “most lethal military,” but the whole point of having a military is to kill people. What else are you gonna do? Gently caress our enemies’ faces and run our hands through their chest hair? Yes, she embraced Liz Cheney, a warhawk. But maybe she mistook “Warhawk” for “Mohawk” as in “Mohawk Nation” as in “rights for indigenous people!”
On November 4th, Momala hugged Katy Perry. All went to hell. The liberals spat out their woke beta sissy lattes as they watched the telly while having their weekly evening abortions. The queers cried rainbow tears as they hoisted their asses off of rainbow flag poles and clutched their wigs and waved their paper fans. T’was a travesty.
On November 5th, 2024, 11:47 PM, the Associated Press called the 2024 presidential election for Donald Trump. Our worst fears were confirmed. Katy Perry had infected Mother Harris with her unceasing supply of flop. And Momala knew. Today, we heard her concession speech. Her voice was hoarse with regret, from the morning of screaming “FUCK YOU KATY PERRY I AM SO FUCKING HAPPY THAT 143 FLOPPED I WISH ONLY LADY GAGA AND BEYONCÉ AND GAYLOR AND THE DIXIE CHICKS HAD PERFORMED FOR ME. I WISH I NEVER MET YOU. I WISH YOU NEVER PERFORMED FOR ME. I WISH THIS WAS ALL JUST A DREAM. I WISH THIS WAS ALL JUST A DREAM. I wish this was all just a dream…”
Momala woke up to snot on her pillow. She was a nasty sleeper, after all. She was, wait… in the West Wing? She is the 47th President of the United States! Oh, it was all just a dream! All those months of tireless campaigning had paid off! She is the first woman president of the United States! She ran to the mirror to give herself a confidence pep talk. As she readied herself to reaffirm her pronouns, she noticed… she had black hair? Wait. She is black, but she doesn’t have black hair! Her hair is a perfectly rich, chestnut brown. Wait… EW, why is her skin so… white? She’s… no longer black? She looked into her eyes… that are no longer hers. In her White House mirror, all she saw was… Katy Perry.
“Sexy, confident. So intelligent. She is heaven-sent. So soft, so strong… Open your eyes, just look around and you’ll discover, you know—It’s a woman’s world, and you’re lucky to be living in it, uh-huh, uh-huh.”
Momala woke up again. This time, not with snot on her pillow, but with snot on her desk. She was at Howard University, where her watch party was sobbing as Pennsylvania was called for Trump. The Blue Wall has fallen. Trump has defeated her, and she will now join Hillary Clinton in the ranks of unelectable, forgotten women politicians. It was, in fact, NOT a woman’s world.
The Flick of the Cunt is a curse so obvious, yet so fleeting. It manifests in the form of a woman, a puddle of flop, before it ruins one’s life. One can only hope Perry will use her powers to defeat the GOP. Use THEFUC to curse all those beefy, blonde, red-blooded American twinks into homosexual sinners. Only then can we chart a hopeful, powerful future for America.
Because we’re not going back. Harris-Clinton 2028.
When we fight, we win.
