"What's that on your arm?" Lori asked, leaning over the back of the seat.

They were following US15 through a rush of flat, sunbaked farmland. Lincoln had been gazing out the window, watching barns, silos, and dilapidated farmhouses flash by. This part of Michigan was remote and sparsely populated.

"It's a tattoo," Lincoln said.

Mom turned in her seat, a look of horror on her face. "You got a tattoo?"

"Yep," Lincoln said.

"Of what?"

"A swastika," Lisa said, "the primary symbol of the German Nazi Party."

Silence filled the van. "Why is there a Nazi symbol on your arm?" dad asked, looking in the rearview mirror.

"It's a badge," Lincoln said. "It shows my dedication to the White Race."

More silence. The tension was so thick you'd need something bigger than a knife to cut it.

"Not cool, bro," Lynn said.

That did it. Lincoln whipped around and faced her. "You know what's not cool? The fact that our country is being taken over by niggers, spics, and kikes. You know what's not cool? The fact that the White American is being systematically exterminated both culturally and socially. You know what's not cool? That Whites are being told that they are wrong for existing and that they should hate themselves and mix with niggers and spics to breed away their horrible whiteness. That's not cool."

Shocked silence.

"Lincoln!" mom gasped.

"It's true, mom. Watch the news once in a while. Our country is going to hell in a handbasket."

Lincoln turned back to the window. "And some of us actually care."

Lisa sighed and shook her head. "Your line of reasoning is highly illogical."

"Is he joking?" Luan asked. "Because it's not funny."

"I wish it was a joke," Lincoln said, "but mark my words, unless we stand up for ourselves, the Jews and the liberals will eventually exterminate us."

"Like Hitler did to the Jews?" Lisa asked pointedly.

"That's a lie," Lincoln said. "Hitler realized what the Jews were and he wanted them out of Germany, but he didn't kill them. The Communists did to frame him. The Holocaust never happened."

"I can't believe what I'm hearing," mom said, throwing up her hands.

"Neither could I, but it eventually sunk in," Lincoln said. "We're at war. Our white skin is our uniform."

While his sisters talked to each other in hushed, shocked tones, Lincoln went back to looking out the window. His heart was pounding. He knew his family would react poorly at first. It was a learning process. They would come around. But like Charlie warned him: Coming out is the hardest part. People had been brainwashed by the liberal Jewish media to believe that good, hardworking, moral white men were the enemy, and that the queers and Muslims working toward the degradation of America were the good guys. It was enough to make him sick.

His family wasn't his enemy, though. He had to keep that in mind. They were victims of the Zionist Occupational Government. He would save them.

"Can you put the radio on?" Lincoln asked.

Mom silently turned the radio on. Some trashy black pop song emanated from the speakers, hurting Lincoln's head. "Put it on FM 89.9"

Mom did, and the soothing voice of Rush Limbaugh filled the van. "Ahhh," Lincoln said, "that's better."

"Nope," mom said, and turned it off.

"Hey!" Lincoln flashed. "I was listening to that!"

"Not in this van you aren't. That man is a lying fearmonger."

Lincoln laughed. "You wanna see a lying fearmonger, watch Oprah or The View. They're anti-white, anti-Christian, and anti-American. Rush Limbaugh is none of those things."

"No," mom said.

Lincoln seethed.

Your family is not your enemy...your family is not your enemy...