THE MOST EPIC SLUTWALK OF ALL TIME
The Walk of Shame began at the Mall St. Vincent parking lot, which was filled with the RVs, campers, and tents of tailgaters. Louisiana news stations erected mobile towers to broadcast Valerie’s plight to a tri-state market.
Monsignor, wearing 100% totally super Monsignor Catholic attire, attracted news cameras, which drew Representative Dick Dimmesdale, like a moth to flame, who was eager for footage to court Catholic voters.
“You can tell from this beautiful weather that God is smiling on our work here, Monsignor,” said Rep. Dimmesdale, who frequently confuses God’s will with anthropogenic carbon emissions. It was the warmest February day since 1880, when methodical thermometer-based records began.
"I’m here to tend to my flock,” said Monsignor. “What do you want?”
"I just wanted to say I’m sorry you have such a sinner in your flock,” said Rep. Dimmesdale, who has never wished to know a man in the Biblical sense.
"All of my sheep are sinners, as am I, and I fear my very presence and participation in this event is a sin, but I will be there to cover my sheep in a blanket and hug her when this madness ends. I will not forsake my flock.”
A reporter thrust a microphone into the face of Monsignor, who turned to Rep. Dimmesdale. “Thinking of other men in the Biblical sense is not a sin, Rep. Dimmesdale, and you have no reason to be ashamed.”
Monsignor turned toward the camera and grabbed the microphone. “I am here solely to support my free spirited sheep, Valerie Cowart. Shaming my congregant is no more Christian than seeking entertainment at Jesus’s execution.” He dropped the microphone, walked to Valerie, who stood with Timberly, Claude, White Jesse, and Paul, and placed his hands on her shoulders.
Monsignor pulled Valerie forward and whispered, “I know you will do this with incredible grace and God’s love. This will be hard and difficult, but I will be at the end to wash your feet. I will not let the most monstrous instincts of men steal you from my flock.” Monsignor rarely hugs. This was the first time he had ever hugged Valerie, which she describes as “completely and totally magical.”
Ali, hovering over the tailgate via her amazing flying floppy hat, signaled Paul, who contracted a condition after being bitten by a radioactive Japanese princess. Uttering “Konichipow,” Paul transformed his clothing into a junihitoe, a kimono restricted to court-ladies in Japan, and colored his hair ROYGBIV. Leaving behind a glitter trail, he and Ali flew to the finish line.
Rep. Dimmesdale, alongside his handmaiden and six state troopers, approached Valerie and said, “Gentlemen, we’re about to begin the Walk of Shame, so you will need to move.”
"I’m her Monsignor. If this girl’s virtue concerns you, let me walk beside her.”
"I’m her attorney,” said Timberly. “She’s entitled to have me by her side to guarantee her rights are not violated during your Walk of Shame.”
"I see,” said Rep. Dimmesdale, who was not imagining what was beneath the Monsignor’s garb. “Troopers, carry Valerie to the starting line.”
Two troopers dragged Valerie towards the starting line. Rep. Dimmesdale cut through her clothes with a pocketknife and threw them into a dumpster fire that cast an eerie glow across Valerie’s naked body.
Monsignor attempted to walk through the wall of troopers so he could shield Valerie from the hostile, gawking audience, but the troopers blocked him. Valerie was naked and alone, amid a sea of red, angry, shouting faces.
The winner of the Little Miss Second Amendment Beauty Pageant discharged a 30 round magazine from an AR-15 into the air to start the Walk of Shame. Rep. Dimmesdale, standing behind Valerie, rang a bell and said, “Shame.” As Valerie walked, he repeated “shame” and rang the bell. The hordes followed and threw refuse at Valerie.
Louisiana R.S. 69:1984, a law that had not been enforced since 1979, requires a woman found guilty of misdemeanor skankiness to undergo a Walk of Shame on a designated parade route. Rep. Dimmesdale, who contrary to recent headlines absolutely did not “farm boy” a Trump White House aide, demanded the law’s enforcement when an intoxicated driver blamed Valerie’s jeans for a multi-vehicle accident. A press release from Rep. Dimmesdale’s office emphasized that the Walk of Shame was 100% legal and that the rules protecting Valerie were very strict. They were so strict, in fact, that a man, who threw a urine-filled water balloon at Valerie, received “a very stern warning.” Heterosexual spit is the only bodily fluid allowed. His office also distributed rotten tomatoes, because it was “consistent with the Walk of Shame’s history.” Of course, many in the crowd had concerns, but Rep. Dimmesdale assured them this was traditional and necessary, because “God forbid this turn into California.”
Since Rep. Dimmesdale was a “self-proclaimed constitutional law attorney” and an elected representative, churches sent their youth groups, parents brought their children, and seven school boards bused in female students to illustrate the importance of saving yourself until marriage per their abstinence-only education program. The Daughters of the Confederacy, the Boys and Mens Rights Clubs of ‘Murica, the Westboro Baptist Church, and people wearing the Confederate flag as capes came in droves.
Valerie was about to cry until she felt glitter mix with her tears, and she saw a light trail of glitter follow Princess Paul’s flight. Valerie was covered in spit, rotten food, urine, and sweat, but there was “some glitter.” She had been covered in glitter before. Now, it clothed her nakedness. As Princess Paul flew away, Valerie saw Ali delivering the three-finger salute from thirty feet on high. That day and even now, Valerie says, "I didn’t know what would happen next, but I knew everything would be okay.”
Less than twelve hours earlier, Claude had asked Katkall to help organize a counter-protest, a request she answered with one word: SlutWalk. The moment Rep. Dimmesdale stripped Valerie of her clothing, Katkall, wearing nude pasties and cutoffs, stood atop a table outside Marilynn’s Restaurant and instructed women, pouring in by bike, car, and foot, with a megaphone.
"This is not a drill, ladies. You need to get as skanky as possible. We don’t have a lot of time. If you’re wearing too many clothes, give them to Elise, then see Mandie and Althea for body paint. If you’re up for it, go see Beelerjuice in makeup. Warning, you will look like a raccoon. I have instructed her to apply eyeliner and mascara without mercy. Finally, we need to smell fine and skanky, so I’ve borrowed a bucket of Valerie’s favorite fragrance, Spooky Bitch, which Madison will spray on you. For those of you requiring religious accommodations, a priest, a rabbi, and an imam just walked into the bar area. After you’re set, see Stacey Dethers, who’s still here from Vice Media, for public outreach.”
The incoming army of women, most of whom were dressed “kind of slutty,” entered the assembly line of skankiness. Elise, operating a sort of slutty coat check system, removed whatever clothing she thought excessive. Then, Mandie and Althea applied body paint. Afterwards, Beelerjuice painted women with massive quantities of makeup from an industrial sized container. Madison doused them with Spooky Bitch. Kris distributed protest signs on which to write a slogan. Throughout the process, volunteers took shots and posted selfies to encourage people to #stripdown. At the end of the assembly line, Stacey Dethers, tingling with excitement from likes, shares, and retweets, photographed each woman as she exited #slutbootcamp, took her statement, and uploaded it to Vice’s various social media accounts.
Katkall, sporting the Captain Marvel hairstyle and “(((Bitch)))” sharpied across her chest, spoke to an army of very skanky-looking women. Ali and Princess Paul, hovering, held a floating American flag behind Katkall, who resembled a sluttier George S. Patton.
"Ladies, our House Representative has stripped our friend, our sister, Valerie of her clothes and forced her to march naked because she’s ‘skanky.’ I don’t think they know what skanky is. Get your hashtags ready, because we’re meeting that mob halfway and marching alongside Valerie to the finish line.”
The painted women raised their fists. As Katkall stepped down, she handed Jaya the megaphone. “Jaya, I know you’re married, but do you think you can push the next wave into maximum skankiness when you lead them?”
"I think I can handle that,” said Jaya. “Hey, Paul, why don’t you glitter up Katkall’s squad?” Paul sprayed Katkall’s squad with glitter. Katkall smiled with the knowledge her squad was sufficiently skanky and glittery to really bother Rep. Dimmesdale, who definitely has a greater sexual interest in vaginas than penises.
"Okay, ladies, let’s roll out,” Katkall screamed to her dolled up lady squad. The nasty women paraded and danced to a Blood Punch cassette playing from a glitter-covered, water-resistant, thirty-something-year-old, yellow Sony boom box. They had decided to only play music from men who died in 2016, women who survived it, and local artists.
They had marched about a mile when Ali, scouting ahead, instructed Katkall to stop over the walky-talky. Princess Paul landed beside Katkall. “They’ll be here in about ten minutes,” said Paul. “Timberly said they’re legally required to follow the Highland Parade Route once they get into the neighborhood. I’m going to get Jaya and her army of sluts.”
Jaya, standing atop the Marilynn’s table with the megaphone, addressed a new batch of women, responding to #righttobarearms. "You call that skanky? My prom dress was sluttier than that, and my parents were Indian immigrants, who got in on the H1B visa.”
When Princess Paul flew towards her, Jaya said, “Alright, my little slutty ninjas, Paul is about to really up your skank-game.” While Princess Paul glittered Jaya’s squad, Prince’s purple helicopter, piloted by Other Justin, landed in the parking lot of the storage facility adjacent to Marilynn’s.
Other Justin, speaking into the external speakers, said “Claude sent me to New Orleans to get some help.” When the helicopter’s passengers exited, Jaya and her skank army squealed with delight.
Princess Paul led Jaya and her skank squad to the rendezvous point, where Katkall was waiting.
"Ali says they’re sticking to the route, but the glitter has slowed the Walk…,” Katkall looked past Jaya and Princess Paul. “Is that really…”
"Oh yeah,” said Jaya. “They’re real and spectacular.” Katkall jumped up and down, while squealing.
After calming down, Katkall instructed Paul to put Stacey Dethers into position and to continue his glitter onslaught. Then, Katkall grabbed the megaphone.
"Ladies and gentlemen, there’s a road to tyranny, and right now, we’re blocking its path,” Katkall said. “Ali, take us to our girl!”
Ali’s first three-finger salute temporarily reassured Valerie, but she was near the breaking point again. Ali’s second salute, delivered halfway through the Walk of Shame, announced, “This ends now.”
Behind Ali, Valerie saw an army of skanks wearing more paint than clothing. Seeing Katkall and Jaya dressed like Roman whores on half-price night made Valerie smile, but nothing prepared her for recognizing adult film star and renowned pole vaulter, Ron Jeremy. Then, Valerie thought she saw his twin, then his triplet, and more, until her realization dawned. “Oh my God, the 610 Stompers,” said Valerie. “They came."
For those of you who are not from Louisiana, the 610 Stompers is a legendary parade dance troupe that consists almost entirely of men who resemble Ron Jeremy dressed for a Jane Fonda workout VHS. They had arrived in force via Prince’s helicopter.
Katkall, Jaya, the skank army, and the 610 Stompers marched toward Valerie, met the Walk of Shame’s head, turned around, and paraded forward. Katkall and Jaya were immediately in front of Valerie with one megaphone between them.
Whenever Rep. Dimmesdale rang the bell and shouted “shame,” Jaya and Katkall shouted, “Dreamport!” Stacey Dethers broadcasted Rep. Dimmesdale through her hacked Snapchat glasses.
Eventually, Jaya introduced a new chant that spread through the SlutWalk. "Quack,” said Jaya. “Quack,” said the skank army. “Quack,” said the 610 Stompers. Soon, they all shouted, “Quack, quack, quack,” like the fucking Mighty Ducks.
Staff emails show, Rep. Dimmesdale had planned an elaborate speech at the finish line, where photographs would portray him as the man who would re-Christianize America. Realizing the opportunity was evaporating, Rep. Dimmesdale scolded Valerie for smiling. “There’s no smiling in the Walk of Shame.”
"There’s always smiling,” said Katkall. “Commence Purple Rain.” In that moment, Princess Paul, flying overhead, unleashed Agent Orange quantities of purple glitter, while Jaya led the skank army in a chorus of Purple Rain.
"We’re three minutes away from the finish line,” Katkall said to Valerie.
Katkall, Jaya, their army of skanks, and the 610 Stompers stepped to both sides of the road, which cleared a path for Valerie. Monsignor, surrounded by members of Valerie’s congregation, stood at the finish line with a blanket. There were also women wearing hijabs, several prominent black preachers with their congregations, and a number of smiling faces who cheered for Valerie. The Seratones played in the background. Prince’s giant purple helicopter hovered above them all.
When she saw Monsignor, Valerie began sprinting towards him. Stacey Dethers jumped in front of Rep. Dimmesdale, who attempted to follow Valerie, and streamed his reaction to multiple Vice feeds. “You stupid bitch,” he screamed as he pushed Stacey down and chased Valerie.
The skank army and the 610 Stompers filled the gap after Valerie passed, which blocked Rep. Dimmesdale. Valerie reached Monsignor, who draped her with a blanket and hugged her. Valerie felt tears again, but it is very important to her that you know she was not crying at that moment.
Other Justin flew Prince’s purple helicopter over the glitter-covered mob. Claude spoke through the helicopter’s external speakers:
"Rep. Dimmesdale, I see you marching with your constituents, and I would like to remind you that we are also your constituents. I stand here today as an American citizen, who is the child of Haitian immigrants. I do not take the American dream lightly. America is not a slogan or a joke. I know the American dream and ideal, and that ideal inspired me to reach out to the Christians, Muslims, Jews, Buddhists, Hindus, and other religious congregations that are here today. Ethel Weiss was kind enough to join us on her 95th birthday because she wanted to show you some tattoos from her childhood. We came here for Valerie, because an attack on one of your constituents is an attack on all of us. To those who walked with Rep. Dimmesdale, you are our neighbors, and we will listen to you, but we ask that you listen to us too. I understand that throughout today, many have pointed to Valerie and said, ‘this is what happens when you’re a skank.’ Well, I’d like to add my own. When you’re an amazing person like Valerie, your community rallies around you, because you’re worth it, and we wouldn’t be who we are without you. We cannot raise ourselves by tearing down others. By the way, George Soros didn’t pay for any of this.”
Something snapped in Ellen Snow, a twelve-year-old student who was bused in as part of her abstinence-only education, when she saw Valerie cry as Monsignor hugged her and washed her feet. Ellen knew she was different and feared that would condemn her to hellfire, because she attended a church that revered a man, who had tackled a naked woman attempting to reach her spiritual leader. The sight of Rep. Dimmesdale throwing a tantrum, while covered in glitter, led her to question everything. That night she watched the videos of #stripdown, Rep. Dimmesdale pushing Stacey Dethers over and calling her a bitch, and Claude’s speech from Prince’s purple helicopter. She threw the gun stolen from her stepfather and her mother’s sleeping pills in the trash. Ellen Snow decided she was coming out.