Introducing... the Society of Extraordinary Gentlemen

He was just about ready to take off and conduct some research when he was interrupted by a voice behind him.

"Look at 'im. That fucking pervert."

On instinct, Josh froze. Like an ice cube. Icicle. (Whatever.)

"Yeah, that's right. You. You precious lil' perv. I'm talkin' to you."

When he turned, Josh was looking at quite the character -- dressed in a hoodie [with the hood up, indoors, for crying out loud], not-quite-baggy blue jeans, and Adidas sneakers, his accuser sat at a booth about an extra table or so down from his.

His eyes were drilling right into Josh's, a strand of sleek hair just tickling the space between his temple and his eye.

So edgy. Ooh.

He lifted a chin forward, towards the empty seat across from him. As if to suggest, 'Sit.'

Curiosity bested his natural ability to know when something was going to be more trouble for what it was worth, book it, and just not be bothered with whatever hinky-doo-hah awaited him. Curiosity made Josh sit.

Warily, he slid in front of the hooded young man. The table was a little sticky.

The first words that came out of his acquaintance's mouth once he sat down: "You're a prude."

"What?"

"You're a prude." His eyes were dead set on him. Like honing missiles. "I fucking know you are."

"I, uh..." Josh frowned. Should he be offended? Technically, it was an insult in both their worlds. "What makes you think that?" he concluded with.

The stranger smirked, sitting back as he folded his arms and gave Josh a sharp once-over. Like that was just what he wanted him to ask him. "I can read people. Not like some kind of magic thing. Just small stuff. Body language, all that." His voice grew quieter, yet ever solemn. "And I think I like the look of you."

Setting down his coffee from his lips, Josh swallowed. "Me?"

"You're another victim." Leaning forward, the man continued. Clearly, this was a passion of his. "A victim of this topsy-turvy world we've been living in."

Josh said nothing, which his shady table-mate took as an opportunity to continue unfazed.

"You see anything wrong here? Like... 'here'?" The man waved around aimlessly. Josh assumed it to mean the cafe in general. He quickly surveyed it with his eyes before looking back at the stranger, and shrugging.

"You mean... like that poster?"

A glint in his eyes, the man egged him. "What's wrong with it?"

"It's a picture of a woman thrusting her gigantic butt out towards the viewer." Josh cleared his throat. He hadn't seen that before, honestly. And no one, not one person, seemed to pay it even the least bit attention. But considering what this world has become, it came as no surprise that that was considered classy in a purportedly family-friendly, public space.

"Disgusting, isn't it?" His hooded face swung out to face the cafe. After a couple seconds, he apparently spotted something. "Look."

Josh followed his eyes to the back of the counter. Two baristas were currently in the process of some coffee making.

"Don't you see it?"

Facing him, Josh responded under a low voice. "What, the fact that that guy barista is feeling and squeezing that girl barista's breast?" Big breasts, too, he wanted to note. He nevertheless kept that to himself. Man, he was going to freakin' ejaculate in his pants.

"Except he's not." The guy jutted a finger through the air, unaware of Josh's crotch crisis. "She's making him touch her. See that?"

After another squinty look-see, Josh confessed, "Not really. He seems to just be touching her breasts every second he gets, which is ridic--er, I mean, completely normal. Like, completely normal."

"What is happening," the guy took a breath, "is that she and him have been having issues for a while, now. Not just any issue. Harassment issues. After a while she had had enough, and talked to the manager. The kid got into heaps of trouble. Now he is not even allowed to go barely a second without slapping his co-worker's buttocks and feeling them up like some animal, or talking into her eyes. That's right. It's cleavage talk all the way. You know why?"

Josh tried not to chuckle nervously. The man went on, no chuckles in view.

"It's because women fucking hate themselves. And they'll do anything they can to make sure that everyone else lets them." This was a clear point of contention for this man. "As a result, once you have something like harassment on your record, they could do anything they want with you. Oh, you didn't stick your tongue down my mouth this morning when I was talking about having never been kissed before? Harassment claim. You were busy doing your work so you didn't even try to brush my butt with the back of your hand when I walked past that one time? Harassment claim. You have the gall to call me a 'lovely young lady', and open the door for me, and squeeze my breasts a liiiittle too quickly for a real proper groping? Harassment claim. Then," his hand slammed against the table. Some looked. Some didn't. Those that did quickly returned to their frivolous conversations about wrong weather forecasts. "Fired. Termination. You're a 'prude'. You're a creep. You're a woman-hater. It's on your record, even if it technically wasn't. They'll talk. They all will. And the man is screwed over once again."

In spite of the zany situation he was in, Josh felt himself nodding along. This guy was good at firing you up.

He folded his arms. "That is the world we live in, bud. And you see it. You're not like these other blind people pretending to be 'woke' when they're all actually just following the carrot and stick. Your eyes are truly open. You're just as horrified as me at the things--" he took a brief second to gesture at a girl laughing as her dad pulled her up by her two ass cheeks and started dry humping her groin. Everyone was looking on with proverbial 'aww's' etched across their faces. "--going on around here." The hooded stranger nodded towards him. "See?"

Realizing the dumbfounded look sprawled across his face, Josh shook himself out of it. Shit! Was it that obvious?!

Obviously, yeah, the guy had a point -- he was a little freaked out by the absolute CRAZINESS that everyone was engaging in, now, because how the hell couldn't he? He went from believing in general laws of physics to being in the possession of a bona fide world/reality-warping application on his effing PHONE!

He was barely learning not to gape at it all, let alone keep his brain on a leash.

This wasn't his world. This was, indeed, a wrong, completely fucked up, distorted version of it where girls laughed at guys saying the word 'titties'. Like, that wasn't funny! Saying 'titties', calling your breasts 'titties', asking to slap them, all in public in front of who knows how many eavesdropping, blatantly spectating strangers, should not be something you just go,

"Haha! That's nice of you."

to!!

It was... well, it was exactly the kind of world he wanted.

But obviously, his rational mind knew that this was never the way the world was supposed to be!

It was... twisted, it was off-center. It had transformed the foundations of... of proper conduct, of proper composure between men and women in a completely nonsensical, bonkers way! A way that seemed like the absolute antithesis to everything a woman should desire in a normal, fulfilling society -- one that doesn't just reduce them to objects of sexual gratification.

So yeah. Technically the guy had a point. He was a little mortified. Mortified, in spite of his steadily leaky erection, and racing heart, and dirty thoughts. And hard as a steel pipe, rubbing his cock discreetly underneath the table, despite his being mortified.

His eyes, the eyes of 'ol average joe Joshua, were open because he was currently conscious in a waking dream.

One that, as far as he knew, was formed by him and him alone. Behind everyone's back. Behind every girl's groped back-side, to be factually accurate.

So what was he really?

Was he a prude?

Was he a pervert?

In this world, it was wild to consider it, but he may just be... both.

"They say being called a prude is an insult. Derogatory." The sound of the man's voice snapped Josh out of it. He was taking a sip out of his own mug, now staring contemplatively at the tabletop. "Long has it been looked at as being a lowlife. As social scum." He sat upright in his seat, returning his gaze to Josh. He had quite the pressing stare. "But no man is naturally perverted. Even women all want prudence in their life -- they just don't know it. You see, I think it's time we take back the word for ourselves. Prude? I'm honored to hear you say it. Wear it. Like a badge. You're a prude. I'm a prude. And we want to get on our knees and help ladies up a slippery step of stairs instead of treating them like second-rate dog food that we can just bang whenever we want, however we want. We're not 'mistreating' women -- in fact, I'd argue that we're the ones treating them with true respect. We're giving up our ego to be true men, who lead their own lives, who can go a day without thinking about fucking a girl, or trying to fuck a girl, or watching a movie and shouting nasty comments at the women telling them to just get naked already. That's fucked up. No matter what they say, girls? They don't want to get naked for your pleasure. They don't want you touching them and getting all close, getting your breath in their face, like they supposedly champion. You know what they want? You know what everyone, them including, forgot?" He had been in the same position his whole monologue, and yet it seemed like the world had quieted down just to concentrate on him and his mini-speech as he continued. "They're all just normal people, beautiful creatures. Humans! Like you and fucking me. And you know what they deserve?"

Josh didn't know. "What?"

"They deserve to be fucking QUEENS."

He wasn't sure what it was, but Josh quantifiably choked on... something. "Queens?"

"Fucking royalty. Let them rule the world. Do it justly. Remind everyone how to act like actual human beings, rather than horny animals. And us men? Well... we get to listen. Not to their babble about being screwed or how looooong it's been since we manhandled their chests or how a woman deserves to be impregnated without her consent. But to their actual needs. To actual, human values. To things that are richer to a relationship than just raunchy perverted fucking."

Oh.

What?!

If Twix really could pause time, this would be the perfect moment to bite into one. All this talk was giving Josh a headache. It really was a completely distorted world.

How...

How, exactly did this work?

If it was considered courteous and proper of men to demean and disrespect and sexually **** a woman....

Did that mean that treating a woman like, well... a woman, mean it was a victory for the common man and his common needs?

In other words, if this was a mirror of the social mores in his original world, then essentially, a man 'disrespecting' a girl was seen as 'respecting' her. And a man 'respecting' her... was seen as 'disrespecting' her..?

So... did that mean...

For men, what this essentially did, was create a sort of 'woman-worshiping complex' that was exacerbated by extensive repression... in which they were **** to **** and be sexually inappropriate with them so dogmatically and against their own natural inclinations that the opposing ****, which was to be actively courteous and socially considerate and thoughtful, became a sort of wishful dream of certain pockets of men in this world's contemporary society, one that for them represented a rebellion against the feminist ideal?

Which was to be [sexually] abused and **** by them?

Huh.

That's kinda fucked up, now that he thought about it.

But actually... it made some sense.

He was going about it the wrong way.

What he did was effectively make 'sexuality', or rather, 'perverse male sexuality' the center of gravity -- whereas before, male sexuality was considered an innate part of a man's nature, now it was asexuality. Where in his world, being focused on things other than sex was considered professional, here it was considered premature. While previously, men were all about fucking and living out sex fantasies and porn and MILFs, now, they supposedly wanted to spend their time doing anything but that.

In this world, the men at the bottom-of-the-barrel, the losers and outcasts, who wanted to be themselves, who wanted to be prudes, who wanted to be MEN, who held an actual, genuine grudge against women, expressed this by treating those women RIGHT.

On the other hand, the men who had properly adjusted to society, who wanted to do right by said society, who wanted to be perverts, who wanted to be a MAN, who tried not to hold any grudge against women, expressed this by acting as they did and treating said women with absolutely repugnant disregard for their space, body, or sexuality. So to show their respect for women, they treated them WRONG.

This was a distorted, nonsensical world alright.

It seemed... almost paradoxical, at first.

But maybe there was something else Josh wasn't getting. Maybe the very concept of right and wrong being flipped by him actually revealed paradoxes in his original world's own values.

In his own world, most rational women didn't want to be queens, per se... they just wanted to not be treated like pieces of meat, like second-rate humans. It was a reactionary thing. They wanted what the world hadn't been giving them. It was the same case here. The world was giving women men who rarely perv'd on them or wanted anything to do with them in a dirty, inappropriate sense. And the women wanted the opposite, even if that seemed counterintuitive. Except, just like in his world, they probably didn't exactly WANT to be **** all day and treated like shit -- it was just conceptually a breath of fresh air compared to what they were supposed to get by default.

Just like with men. A world of repression will always invite **** feelings in protest -- how those feelings manifested, depend on the thing being repressed.

Extremes traded for other extremes...

He could write a thesis on this.

"So," Josh finally collected enough of himself to gather the words to talk, "you want to make women queens."

"Sort of intentional hyperbole. But yes."

Josh blinked. Oh, so he wasn't being exactly literal? So much for all that in-depth analyses, then, thanks. "But you hate women."

"I hate women who hate themselves. All these girls, thinking that they're championing their womanhood by being spat on and spanked? They're crazy. That's not what being a woman is all about. I know it. Everyone knows it. They're just in denial."

"You say they're crazy. And you aren't?"

A smirk crawled through his cheeks, and he rummaged through his hoodie front pocket. "This is my card." Josh took it, flipping it over, then back. "When you're ready, you should come check us out."

"Society of Extraordinary Gentlemen?" The card boasted a group in silhouette, along with the aforementioned title across its front side.

"It's a comic book reference."

Before Josh could even summon a response, there was a thud that cracked through the air. He jumped in his seat, then turned to the source of the commotion.

"PLEASE. Stop."

"But miss--"

"I said, STOP."

A woman, (a rocking hot brown-haired MILF to be specific), was standing in line. A boy who could not have been out of high school was right at her side. Apparently, he must have spoken out of turn. Knowing the circumstances, though, Josh watched with an astute eye.

"M'am, I just wanted to help you--"

"Are you trying to have me call security!?"

As if on cue, one of the cafe associates rushed over. He looked quite distressed by the fact that something like this was stirring in the middle of the coffee shop, midday no less, but nevertheless attempted to take control of the situation. He turned to the woman. "Alright, you whore. What's the problem here?" Then, he mashed the MILF's face into his dick, rubbing her face all over his black trousers.

The MILF, after straightening back up in her seat, re-adjusted the straps on her sundress which got loose from the impact. "Thanks for coming," she sighed. Sniffing, she pointed at the boy who was standing awkwardly before them, currently looking like a grade schooler, one hand in the cookie jar. "This brat has been acting like an asexual loon for the past 5 minutes, asking to pay for me when he'd overheard me saying that I didn't bring any card or cash with me -- which has just been one stressful domino in a very domino-filled day, thank you -- and then proceeding to make not a single, SINGLE advance on me."

A disapproving remark tumbled out of the now blatantly spectating crowd.

"Thank you," the MILF dropped a hand into her lap. "I couldn't just stand here and let this boy call me," shudder, "names like 'miss' and 'm'am' while missing every single opportunity to, to, throw a sweet pick-up line or comment on my breasts at least ONCE."

More agreeable murmurs from rows of heads.

"It just goes to show," she continued, "how young men these days tend to be so..." When she found the word, she looked straight at the defendant. "Single minded."

"Is that true, sir?" Turned the cafe associate. The high school boy was a deer caught in headlights.

"Uh-uhuhuhmmm...." Was all he could muster.

Across the cafe, Josh had enough of the scene. He had gottten up to leave when he noticed the Society-something guy was already gone. Card still on the table, Josh picked it up, once again flipping it over to its backside. An address was scrawled across the bottom margins. Beside it: "All FREE thinkers invited."

Josh tucked the card back into his pocket, right alongside his cellphone.

He didn't know what he had seemingly incidentally created here, but it was a lot to digest, and his stomach had enough caffeine for one day.

Maybe he should just lie down for a while.