Emoongency: Gail’s Men Rekt In Space. MILLIONS DEAD.
Everyone needs to do the Gail Commandments. If not, my Gail Shield will weaken enabling Loree McBride’s cum star to destroy earth. https://gabriellechana.blog/2018/05/06/gail-commandments/
10:57 a.m. Jan. 27, 2021, Eastern Standard Time, United States:
Such a cataclysm of events has transpired over the past few hours. What began as an ordinary day for the men and our patrons turned into a waking nightmare. I have so much to tell you. I’ll start from the beginning.
There I was in the briefing room, reviewing our upcoming mission with our crew of $25 tier patrons. In our humble little squad we had patrons John Balcora, Guy Jackman, Lila and Klock.
“All right everyone,” I began, “as you all read in the memo I sent to your emails yesterday, the Church of Gail spacefleet is currently en route to Moonxico for the purposes of building a new prison to house the gargantuan fat chick, Sara Avery.”
On the projector screen beside me, pictures of a very fat Sara Avery flicked across the screen. The photos depicted Sara gobbling down cake, puking, crying, and then gobbling down cake some more. In each photo she was visibly seen to be growing bigger, until eventually her fat gelatinous body was oozing its way out of her prison bars.
“Sara has once again failed on a diet, and she is now nearing critical mass. If we don’t get her weight under control, she’s at risk of becoming a black hole again. Our plan is to construct a new prison specifically for Sara Avery on Moonxico. This new prison will be large enough to house her, while also being exceptionally isolated, so that we can keep her on a longterm starvation diet. This new prison base will be known as Moontonimo.”
I pressed the button on the projector’s remote to flick through the pictures again. The next picture showed a cartoon drawing of an anthropomorphic taco. The taco had a big smile on its face, with its arms in the air, and was standing next to a picture of the moon.
“Moonxico, formerly known as Earth’s moon, is home to a race of sentient tacos and burritos. Some of you all may not be familiar with Moonxico. It’s important to understand the culture there as we work with the inhabitants on building this prison, so I’ve prepared a little history lesson.”
I pressed a button on the slide that began to play one of Gail’s videos from early 2015.
“Back in January 2015, the Jesuits sent a pookakke bomb to Earth aimed at Mexico. The pookakke was a nuclear bomb filled with poop.”
The projector flipped to a picture of the pookakke bomb sailing toward Mexico as the citizens of Mexico scurried about in a panic.
“Scientist Bill Nye was able to intercept this bomb, using a shield that converted the pookake into delicious tacos and burritos. To our horror, the technology used to turn the pookakke into tacos and burritos, also created a giant, sentient taco and sentient burrito.”
Guy Jackman rubbed his chin in thought, “that makes perfect sense…”
“The giant, sentient, self-aware taco and burrito then flew into outer space, and chased after Church of Gail.”
Klock raised his hand, “now wait a minute! you mean the original Church of Gail?”
“Nope, not the original Church of Gail — this was the second version of Church of Gail.”
I pressed a few buttons on the remote to pull up pictures of previous versions of Church of Gail.
“Klock asked a very good question, so allow me to catch everyone up:
The original Church of Gail was a spaceship built like a giant tower. It moved from place to place using teleportation technology.
In late May of 2012, the Jesuits attacked the original Church of Gail with nukkake bombs, and the fight dragged out into deep space. At the time, the Jesuits had developed a super weapon called the ‘Orgasmic Telefornication Ray’, a weapon that could turn masses of people into rapists.
In order to protect Gail from being raped, Vladimir heroically rammed the Church of Gail into the Jesuit warship carrying the Telefornication Ray, destroying the Church of Gail in the process. Our dear Jim Carey died, and the rest of Gail’s men barely escaped.”
The next slides depicted the original Church of Gail in its tower form, followed by a photo of it being destroyed in an explosion, and then a photo of the second Church of Gail.
“The second Church of Gail was a massive floating city with a central tower in the center. It ran on powerful Jesus technology. That version of Church of Gail was later destroyed during the final battle with Angelina Ballerina.”
Lila piped in, “and now the Church of Gail isn’t even its own spaceship anymore…it’s just a group of old warships we’ve been borrowing from the Jesuits since the fight with Angelina Ballerina.”
“Correct!” I said, “that was after Zack Knight turned good, and the Jesuits split off between the good Zack Knight Jesuits and the bad Loree McBride Jesuits.”
John remarked, “it would be nice to have our own spaceship again, instead of having to rely on these klunky old Jesuit ships to keep our group together.”
“Agreed,” said Klock, “Jesuit technology is difficult to work with. Everything is powered by semen! Jesuits are genetically primed for producing lots of cum. Us normies can’t keep up.”
“Just keep drinking Gatorade, folks,” I advised, “that’s why there’s Gatorade vending machines on every deck.”
“You think that’s bad?” Lila scoffed, “try being a woman onboard. If I want to blow dry my hair in the morning, I gotta blow a guy first!”
Guy chimed in, “speaking of which, if you need a hand in producing more semen, Klock, you know where to find me.”
“Okay, okay, back to the subject,” I told them, corralling the team back onto the lesson.
I clicked the remote to change the slides.
“In order to escape the sentient taco and burrito, Gail ordered the Church of Gail to fly into the sun. In theory, the Church would be able to withstand traveling through the sun thanks to its shields, while the taco and burrito got burnt to a crisp behind it. To everyone’s surprise, the taco and burrito survived the trip through the sun, while the heat from the sun simply made them crispy and delicious.”
The next slide depicted a plate of Mexican food a la carte.
“The Church of Gail had meanwhile burned up all of its shields, and was now a sitting duck for the taco and burrito. That was when the taco and burrito began making love, and started flying toward the moon! The interstellar copulation of the giant taco and burrito produced a race of sentient, anthropomorphic beings called Moonxicans.”
The next slide showed a group of happy tacos and burritos having a fiesta.
“These Moonxicans travelled to Earth, where they began wreaking havoc on Earth society, especially the economy. They began making babies at a rapid rate, and as their population exploded they all began going on welfare, siphoning resources from the hardworking humans. We couldn’t allow the Moonxicans to stay on Earth, so we exiled them off of our planet and onto the moon.”
I flicked to the next slide, showing a sentient burrito placing a Moonxican flag on the moon.
“Since the moon has no resources, the Moonxicans were dependent on trade deals with Earth in order to survive as a society. In exchange for air and water from Earth, the Moonxicans send us their excess babies and aborted fetuses to be served as food at Taco Bell chains.”
I flicked to the next slide that showed a Taco Bell restaurant, and then another that showed happy humans eating delicious tacos.
“And there you have it folks. That’s the history of Moonxico. If this is your first trip, it should be quite the experience. Any more questions?”
With perfect timing, the intercom monitor lit up, and a robotic voice came over the loudspeaker with an announcement, “ladies and gentleman, Church of Gail is now arriving at Moonxico.”
“Look guys!” Lila exclaimed, calling the other patrons over to the windows.
Far down below from space, the landscape of Moonxico was coming into view. As the Church grew closer to the moon’s surface, the patrons laid their eyes upon the vast spectacle of a bustling Moonxican city. Lazy Moonxicans slept peacefully on the sidewalks, while little Moonxican children played in the streets unattended, occasionally being splattered by drunk Moonxican drivers. Around every corner were muggings, drug deals, and rape, and a peppy atmosphere of Moonxican polka chortled from every building. There were colorful fruit stands, and steaming food trucks selling delicious food to obese burritos on their lunch breaks. Behind the gas station two burritos were removing the meat from inside a dead baby taco and stuffing it with cocaine. Well dressed burritos and beautiful tacos strolled arm in arm down the sidewalks, past great tall buildings and dirty fountains. At the city center square stood a giant marble statue of Bill Nye, his arms outstretched like Jesus.
“All right crew,” I said, “we have a few minutes before landing. It’s time to get ready.”
“Hey,” Guy pointed, “what’s that in the distance? Does Moonxico have its own moon or something?”
Coming into view from deep space was a massive, giant pink sphere. As the object accelerated closer and closer to our ship, I knew it was no moon.
I raised my hand to my chest to tap my communicator and contact Vladimir, when suddenly —
A powerful white beam blurred past the window, grazing the ship and plunging deep into Moonxico. An explosion rocked the ship and sent myself everyone in the room flying into the walls. For several moments we bounced around like rocks shaking inside a tin can. Deaf from the sound and out of breath, I was left temporarily paralyzed on the floor.
The voice of Zack Knight came over my communicator, “Brent, it’s Zack! It looks like our ship’s hull has been breached.”
“What’s happening up there Zack?!”
Guy Jackman gasped, “oh no! The Moonxicans!”
Down below on the surface of Moonxico was a giant crater, freshly created by the impact of the massive laser beam. As we all stared into the crater, a white liquid began to ooze to the surface. Like an erupting volcano, the liquid seeped over the rim of the crater and began engulfing the nearby Moonxican cities. The burritos began drowning, becoming soggy until they died, while barely crispy tacos floated to the surface pregnant.
“Zack, what the hell happened?” I asked, “was that one of our Jesuit weapons?!”
“No idea Brent! It looks like-“
Zack was cut off as a picture flashed up on the viewscreen in the room.
“Oopsies!” Loree giggled, daintily touching her fingers to her mouth, “looks like I missed!”
“LOREE MCBRIDE!” We all shouted in unison.
“It’s me!” Loree confirmed cheerily, “did you all forget we were at war? Oh, I guess you did…all Gail’s been doing is making videos about boring Presidential cabinet picks, and shopping for useless garbage online. Meanwhile, she’s left YOU all floating around in these outdated Jesuit ships, while I’ve been making upgrades to my own Jesuit military.”
Loree raised her hands, gesturing to the deck of her new pink spaceship.
“Do you like it? I call it the Cum Star. You’ll really like all the new toys it comes with.”
“Well I hope you got insurance on that big pink disco ball of yours, because you’re going down Loree McBride!” I shouted, then tapped my communicator, “Vladimir, fire the nukkakes!”
Vladimir roared a Russian war cry, and we watched as several nukkakes launched toward the Cum Star. Each of the nukkakes successfully connected with the surface of the ship and exploded with their payload. To our dismay, the bukkake inside the bombs simply oozed instead of sprayed. Sad semen leaked down the sides of the Cum Star, barely penetrating it.
Loree McBride cackled, “are you serious right now? Your Church of Gail nukkakes are no match for a Jesuit warship.”
“Brent, it’s Zack!” Zack came in over the communicator, “Loree is kinda right here…your nukkakes are pretty low yield.”
“I’ve been drinking as much Gatorade as I can,” Klock replied sheepishly.
“Let us help,” Zack then turned to shouted a command to all Jesuit ships in the fleet, “FIRE THE NUKKAKES!”
Dozens of high potency nukkakes burst from the Jesuit warships. With intense vigor and vitality, the nukkakes rushed the Cum Star and threatened a massive payload.
In the next instant, defensive missiles fired back from the Cum Star, bursting into parachutes. The giant parachutes opened in front of the nukkakes, completely engulfing them before tying off at the end and sealing them inside. The inert nukkakes exploded weakly inside the parachutes, before floated uselessly off into space.
“Behold,” Loree declared, “my condom defense missiles! Even Zack Knight hasn’t upgraded his fleet to prepare for me! Ha ha ha!”
“Quick,” I told our patrons, “we need get to the torpedo bay.”
The patrons nodded and followed behind me like a squad as I exited the room, and we all sprinted down the corridor.
“What’s the plan, Brent?” John asked, huffing as he ran.
“Some of the spermicide bullets were salvaged from the wreckage of the old Church of Gail,” I explained, “they normally wouldn’t be compatible with these ships, but we retro-fit them using the guidance and propulsion systems from Jesuit missiles.”
We were suddenly jolted into the walls as the ship shook, and Lila screamed. The battle was roaring outside in space. Loree’s Cum Star fired off nukkakes, as Vladimir struck back with weak antisemen lasers. After the hit, we gathered ourselves and kept running. I continued to answer John’s question.
“The modified versions should work if we can get them loaded into the torpedo tubes.”
Explosions continued to boom outside, drowning out our voices.
“What’s with the Jesuits not having spermicide or antisemen technology anyway?” Guy asked, shouting over the cacophony.
“It’s not that they don’t have it, it’s just that it’s sacrilegious for Jesuits…anything that explodes on contact with semen is kind of like radioactive waste to them.”
Another explosion rocked our ship.
“Well at least before we die, we’ll have gotten a good education!” Guy joked wryly.
Our group reached the torpedo bay, and I instructed the guys to open the vaults and remove the old spermicide bullets — now modified into spermicide missiles. The three men hoisted up one of the missiles and began carrying it toward the torpedo tube.
That’s when one of the guys squeaked “ow!” And another stumbled.
“Hey! That’s my leg!” Klock cried.
“Sorry, I thought it was your dick!” John shouted back with sarcasm.
The trio stumbled and tripped over one another, and the missile was dropped.
“Hey, what the-” Guy exclaimed.
It was too late.
The instant the missile made contact with the floor, the floor vaporized. A clean, smooth hole in the oblong shape of a missile glided all the way down through the ship. At the very bottom of the hole there was only open space.
Everyone facepalmed and sighed when they realized what had happened.
“It’s because everything on a Jesuit ship is contaminated with semen,” Klock groaned.
Lila made a disgusted face, “…you know what, that’s really gross.”
Another hit from the Cum Star quaked through the ship, sending us all stumbling once more.
“We have no time to lose!” I yelled, “quick, let’s get the rest of the missiles loaded into the tubes. CAREFULLY this time. We don’t want to turn our own ship into Swiss cheese.”
The patrons hurried onto the task. One by one, each of the missiles was hauled out of the vault and loaded into the tubes.
Zack’s voice came in over the communicator, “hey, we’re getting obliterated out here guys. We’ve already lost all of our ships. Me and 13 are ordering the rest of our crew into the escape pods now. You guys had better follow suit before you get creamed.”
“We’ve not lost the fight yet. Just wait until Loree gets a taste of these spermicide missiles,” I responded.
“A dirty bomb, cool…all right guys, good luck.” The communicator chirped as Zack signed out.
“Do you really think this will work?” Lila fretted nervously.
“It’s our last shot! It better work!” John replied.
With renewed courage, I slammed on my communicator.
“Vladimir — FIRE THE SPERMICIDE MISSILES!”
Vladimir shouted in mad Russian over the communicator, and then in crystal clear English, “FIRING THE SPERMICIDE MISSILES!”
A blitzkrieg of spermicide missiles blasted from our torpedoes. With baited breath, we watched as the phallic missiles pierced through space and honed in expertly on the Cum Star. Loree McBride surveyed the battlefield with muted scorn on her wicked face. As she watched the approach of the incoming missiles, her eyes lit up. She smiled devilishly.
“Oh Brent…did you really try to combine Jesus technology with Jesuit technology? Pathetic!”
She pressed a button on her screen, and instantly the spermicide missiles froze.
“My ship’s software can link right into the guidance systems of the old Jesuit technology. I AM still a Jesuit, after all.”
The spermicide missiles then rotated on their axis until they faced the opposite direction, and were forcefully launched back toward our fleet! With a man’s force the missiles began pentrating through each of the ships in our fleet and rained down upon our own shields, throwing us all into a explosion of emergency sirens onboard.
“EMERGENCY!” Vladimir yelled over the intercom, above the deafening blaring of the sirens, “ESCAPE TO SPACE PODS! I REPEAT! EMERGENCY! ESCAPE TO SPACE PODS!”
With our shields quickly dying and our sirens blaring, I gathered the group of patrons and we all fled to the escape pod deck. Out in the corridors, hundreds of other church members stuffed themselves along the halls and rushed toward the deck themselves.
“Oh no,” Lila cried, “the space pods only fit two people each! We don’t have enough for everyone. Some are going to have to stay behind!”
“Not on my watch,” I declared.
We arrived at the door of a space pod. After opening the door, I gestured to Lila.
Lila stepped comfortably inside. I then shoved Klock, John and Guy into the space pod after her, forcing them all in like a can of sardines. The patrons struggled and protested with discomfort. Looking to Guy, I nodded my head, and affirmatively said, “no homo” before sitting in his lap and stuffing myself inside the pod with all of them. After entering the passcode into the keypad inside, we were forcefully ejected from the ship.
As we sailed like a helpless marble through space, none of us could help but watch the remnants of the final battle through the windows. I watched as our former ship’s shields finally died, and the raging fire of spermicide bullets began turning it into a giant colander. Hundreds of tiny space pods scattered through the stars like dust.
Loree wasn’t finished yet.
“Don’t fall asleep nooow! I’m ready for my climax!” She beamed, her voice blaring over the intercom sysems of every remaining ship and escape pod.
The giant hole in the center of the Cum Star opened, and out slid an enormous phallic canon.
“My new favorite toy. Prepare for…the WARM BLAST! Ha ha ha ha ha!” Loree flipped back her head and laughed wickedly.
The head of the phallic canon opened, its insides glowing with a bright white light. In one massive explosion, it ejaculated a powerful white beam straight through the center of our space fleet. The beam completely decimated the entire remains of the Church of Gail and Jesuit space fleets, burning through them like wet paper before beaming down onto Moonxico. The beam blew yet another crater deep into the surface of the moon, this one deeper than the last, filling the core of the moon with laser semen and sending a crack that split straight through the moon itself. Molten semen erupted from every crevice, flooding and impregnating every Moonxican on the moon.
A somber silence hung heavy in our space pod. There we were, stranded in this tiny tin can, our arms and legs gangled around each other like a perverted game of Twister. Our fleet was gone. The Jesuit fleet was gone. The pink Cum Star loomed in the distance, as the bits and pieces of our warships floated lifelessly in the atmosphere around it and crumbled away into a quiet death. Moonxico was disaster zone, its cities in ruins, with likely millions dead or rendered pregnant. Everything we had known in the past hour had been destroyed.
To our petrified relief, the Cum Star soon rotated away, and slowly faded back into the blackness of space. Satisfied with her victory, and reasonably assuming we were all dead, Loree was finished with us.
Minutes passed, yet it felt like hours. Finally, a voice came through my communicator.
“Brent, it’s Zack. Did you guys make it?”
“We made it Zack. Myself and our patrons are still alive. Who else survived?”
“Don’t know yet. There weren’t enough space pods for everyone. The only way me and 13 could fit was for me to stuff my entire penis inside her.”
I felt my stomach drop with sorrow, worried for the other men on the marriage list, and all of our church members. With nowhere to go and nobody to save us, our hive of space pods drifted endlessly into the starry abyss.
Just then, the light of the moon flashed off of a tiny object nearing our space pod. It was little glass bottle, floating through space as if drifting on the waves of a starry ocean. Almost as if it had a life of its own, it seemed intended for our pod. Deeply curious, I had to know what was inside it. With trepidation, I pressed a button on the keypad to beam it aboard.
I took the glass bottle in my hands. It was sealed with a wooden cork, and had a piece of paper rolled up inside. I popped the cork and removed the paper, unveiling its contents. It read:
Ha ha ha!
These past few weeks have been so much fun for me. You knew Jesus would never make love to you, but you’re such a selfish girl you made “brain to brain” with him on purpose. You thought you could double dip by screwing Jesus, while secretly hoping it would turn out to be Satan instead, so you could have the satisfaction of getting them both…clever girl. Surprise Gail! It was me with my strap on dildo the whole time, the same one I raped Brent with in the 90s. How does it feel to know you’re a lesbian?
Face it Gail, you’re just a basic monkeybrancher who’s never satisfied with the man you have. You hold on to Brent for security, while always being on the lookout for a more perfect man to replace him with. You blab on and on about how Brent is sooo masculine and vast, but he’s pretty cowardly to be with a woman who cheats on him the second someone “better” comes along. Admit it, Brent is a weak cuck and you like it. At least own that shit Gail.
Oh, and before you get your hopes up: Satan had nothing to do with this. It was all me. Don’t get your panties wet thinking you got to have free sex with Satan and still claim innocence. You messed up. Yep, better go lovebomb Brent again to make sure you still have that nice secure branch to swing back to, after trying to cheat on him with another man yet again and having it all blow up in your face.
Thanks so much for helping me make Jesus cry. You could have just done what he asked you to do, instead of having a pity party and soothing yourself with sexual sins. I mean god Gail, how hard is it for a grown woman to clean out a one bedroom apartment? No wonder Jesus says he’d never fuck you.
Your enemy forever,
Below the letter were stick figure drawings scrawled in crayon. On the bottom left was a stick figure of Gail on the bed, crying cartoonishly while exclaiming, “I’m trash Jesus! I’m just a selfish, no good little girl! I don’t deserve an orgasm!” She was being dildo’d by a stick figure Loree, drawn with horns and a devil tail, who smiled and said, “I won’t finish until you do!”
My hands shaking as I finished the letter, I rolled over as much as I could in this tiny suffocating space pod, and puked all over Klock.
Exhausted, defeated and demoralized, with some of us now covered in puke, we remain helplessly adrift in space, with nothing and no one left to rescue us. Our salvation cannot arrive a moment too soon. We are in urgent need of help.
Skype with Zack Knight at (1 p.m. to 10 p.m. on Jan. 27, 2021):
Zack, 1:00 PM Are you there?
Gail, 1:00 PM Yup. I need to go get my laundry. I’ll be right back.
Zack, 1:01 PM Did you check your email?
Gail, 1:15 PM It appears Brent’s email did not go through. This is all I got. “Looks like my last email before the attack just sent. There was a disaster. Brent sent you the details.”
– Zack Knight
What disaster happened? Never mind. It’s at Gmail. I’ll read it now.
Zack, 1:30 PM It’s so cramped in here.
Gail, 1:30 PM I’m still reading. Let’s all pray and ask Jesus to give us the Church of Gail spaceship that was destroyed in our battle with Angelina Ballerina. I will pray right now. You all join me! Lord Jesus, you can rescue us! We need the Church of Gail spaceship Lord Jesus! The one that Angelina destroyed or one that will defeat Loree McBride’s cum star. Loree’s full of crap. I’ve been cleaning my apartment like Jesus said and I’m not sure I made Jesus cry. I’m still praying. Let me write out the prayer and you all pray with me. “Dear Lord Jesus, my men are in dire need of protection right now. Loree has them cornered and can kill them any moment. Please, if you can, give us the Church of Gail spaceship and one that has been upgraded and that can defeat Loree’s cum star. If not, give either me or one of my men wisdom over how to deal with this horrible situation Loree has put us in. You know, she’s full of crap and I ask you to TAKE HER OUT!” You promised that I and my men would defeat the Jesuits! I believe you, Lord Jesus! Are you still alive, Zack? I’m going to read the letter in a YouTube video and ask the world for help.
Zack, 1:45 PM I’m here. We’re floating in escape pods. We need assistance. This might require one of your youtube videos to ask anyone with launch capabilities and spaceships to come help us. Maybe read the letter first and then ask anyone who can help us to contact gailsmen.
Zack, 1:46 PM And after that, in the video, you should set the record strsight on that letter Loree sent. Loree is so evil. Almost everyone is dead.
Gail, 1:46 PM Oh no! Who’s still alive? Where are you located?
Zack, 1:47 PM Brent heroically saved all the $25 patrons. And the other top men escaped.
Gail, 1:47 PM So all my Cabinet members died?
Zack, 1:47 PM I’m in an escape pod with Rule 13. Your only patrons aboard the fleet were the $25 patrons.
Zack, 1:49 PM I don’t think a lot of your cabinet were on the Church of Gail ships. But at this point, the cabinet doesn’t matter. Our fleet was the most advanced technology and military power we had. We are sitting ducks until we get back to earth. I verified your cabinet were all in Washington DC. But all of the Zack Knight Jesuits are dead. And all of the regular Church of Gail Crew. We have casualties in the millions. The only people who survived were your top men and patrons. My legs are cramping up. This escape pod is so tight. My penis is all the way in Rule 13
Gail, 2:23 PM I’m processing the video now. I have to do that or it takes 2 hours to download to YouTube. I’m still praying. Hold on. Be brave.
Gail, 2:30 PM I’m going to make brain to brain loving with all of you while we wait for help. Mostly caresses. I’m multitasking. I’m processing it at a little lower quality to make it go fast. Processing should be done in around 16 minutes. Meanwhile I’m praying and asking Jesus to protect you all.
Gail, 2:55 PM It’s uploading to YouTube now. Should be uploaded in around a minute.
Zack, 5:25 PM We’re getting lots of messages from the various space agencies. Looks like they’re going to mount a rescue mission.
Gail, 5:26 PM I’m in prayer. Has Loree killed any more people?
Zack, 5:26 PM We’ll need to last until Friday. No, she left. Looks like your $25 patrons will be attending the hangout from the escape pod.
Zack, 5:27 PM I found that our legs don’t cramp if I bounce Rule 13 on my penis.
Gail, 5:27 PM Oh my goodness.
Zack, 5:28 PM It helps with circulation. I told the other pods the same.
Gail, 5:28 PM Do you have your apps to send your poop out to space? Instruct the space agencies to transport into your pods food and water.
Zack, 5:29 PM I think the homosexual patrons will be comfortable putting their penises in each other’s butts to fit more comfortably. Yes, we have the iPoop app. And we have replicators.
Gail, 5:29 PM That’s going to be a blessing now! Can you use it to transport urine out to space as well?
Zack, 5:30 PM Yes, we have soda bottles we can pee in and transport out.
Gail, 5:30 PM Wonderful! Is there a way to transport Brent’s vomit from his pod out to space?
Zack, 5:31 PM The men are replicating board games to keep their spirits high. Yes, but they had to take off the vomited clothes.
Zack, 5:32 PM So at least it’s easy for them to put their penises in each other now. Be right back.
Gail, 5:33 PM Loree arranged for my Skype to require an update last night and I had to update it today, and that may have blocked you for awhile. Thank God I heard from you at 2 p.m. Or 1 p.m. It appears Satan worked with Loree to get you and me distracted about bed bugs. But, fortunately, I figured out the problem was contact dermatitis and got around 5 to 6 hours of sleep last night. Enough to have enough of my wits about me to deal with this emergency. I’m glad I decided to put the foams back on my bed, so that I got some sleep. I guess you all will be really tired on Friday. I know I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I was in your shoes. I shall keep you all in prayers. Though perhaps some of you who can sleep sitting, may get some rest.
Zack, 6:38 PM Yeah, that’s the plan. Oh, what kind of soap was in your pillowcase?
Gail, 6:39 PM Just Ivory and Neutrogena fragrance free.
Zack, 6:40 PM Okay. That could have been it. As a powder?
Gail, 6:41 PM Well, the soap was about 2 years old and there was a hole in the pillowcase. I’m not that worried about bed bugs. I think Satan and Loree planted that in your minds as a distraction. Often when an enemy attacks, they like to get you distracted so you won’t focus on mounting a defense.
Zack, 6:48 PM Yeah.
Zack, 7:51 PM I’m going to try to sleep. Today was so…. just too much.
Gail, 7:52 PM Good idea. I’m getting ready for bed, too. Yeah, I will do some brain to brain loving with all my men. I assume the main ones are alive.
Zack, 7:52 PM So much death. Yes, the main ones are alive.
Gail, 7:53 PM Yeah. . .This will be a Romans 8:28 Zack. Believe it! Jesus will work it out for good.
Zack, 7:53 PM I really hope so. It seems so hopeless.
Gail, 7:53 PM Jesus hasn’t deserted us. He has a plan. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rhaTIu_k4w0
Zack, 7:56 PM I’m playing this now.
Gail, 7:56 PM I’m going to pray and ask Jesus to find a playlist for you and the men.
Gail, 8:02 PM I like this playlist. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V2niVcqUgkQ&list=RDV2niVcqUgkQ&start_radio=1&t=0
Zack, 8:05 PM https://youtu.be/43cXC_AWNmA. Here’s one I picked for Brent and the patrons.
Gail, 8:07 PM Beautiful. Prayer with praise is a powerful combination. God often works miracles when we do that. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a0vIBq4tLfQ This Bible passage seems appropriate. Goodnight my brave men. Jesus won’t let us down!
Zack, 8:14 PM Shit… all our replicators went offline. We are going to need whoever rescues us to bring food.
Gail, 8:15 PM Is this true for all the men? Or all who are left alive?Can you email them to let them know and perhaps they can use transporter technology to give you some food in the meantime?
Zack, 8:18 PM All of the replicators are offline. The systems weren’t intended to run this long. Life support will last. But we are vulnerable. We don’t have propultion systems. No weapons.
Gail, 8:19 PM Why are they waiting til Friday?
Zack, 8:20 PM They’re going as fast as possible.
Gail, 8:20 PM Oh, you’re really far out.
Zack, 8:20 PM The best we have now is the space technology that the public knows about. No, we’re orbiting the moon. But that’s really far away for basic rockets. I don’t know all the details, but a launch company that does space transport missions can be here Friday.
Gail, 8:22 PM Don’t the Chinese have more advanced space technology? What about the Russians?
Zack, 8:28 PM I think we’re using whoever was able to get here first.
Gail, 8:28 PM Maybe send an email to all the following space agencies: https://www.unoosa.org/oosa/en/ourwork/space-agencies. html World Space Agencies webpage
Zack, 8:28 PM Good idea. Maybe one is closer. We just asked our allies.
Gail, 8:29 PM It’s possible Loree is blocking some of the space agencies from YouTube and they aren’t aware of your predicament. Send an email in their language to their sites.
Zack, 8:39 PM I will… but then I’ll go to sleep. I’m so exhausted
Gail, 8:43 PM https://www.unoosa.org/oosa/en/ourwork/space-agencies.html Here are emails to various space agencies.
Emergency! Millions dead. Need to rescue some people orbiting around the moon. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6fY7cnOskXg&t=1343s
Chinese (simplified): 紧急！ 数百万人死亡。 需要营救一些绕月球运行的人。
Chinese (traditional): 緊急！ 數百萬人死亡。 需要營救一些繞月球運行的人。
German: Notfall! Millionen Tote. Wir müssen einige Menschen retten, die um den Mond kreisen.
French: Urgence! Des millions de morts. Besoin de sauver certaines personnes en orbite autour de la lune.
Hindi (India): आपातकालीन! लाखों मरे। चंद्रमा के चारों ओर परिक्रमा करने वाले कुछ लोगों को बचाने की आवश्यकता है।
Here is Bill Nye’s email: email@example.com
Persian (Iran – had trouble with this one): ضطراری! میلیون ها کشته. نیاز به نجات برخی از افراد در اطراف ماه .
חירום! מיליונים הרוגים. צריך לחלץ אנשים שמסתובבים סביבIsrael הירח.
Russian: Чрезвычайная ситуация! Миллионы мертвых. Нужно спасти людей, вращающихся вокруг Луны.
World Space Agencies webpage – https://www.unoosa.org. It may not be a good idea to email all these people, like I don’t know if we can trust Israel. Just pray and follow your gut and, yes, we need to go to bed! Goodnight and I hope you sleep. Rule 13 can do the Japanese one.
Zack, 8:49 PM Agreed. I’m falling asleep. Goodnight. hug
Gail, 8:50 PM I agree.
Zack, 8:50 PM The men really appreciate your Brain to Brain.
Gail, 8:51 PM Do all the men get to experience Brent’s vibrating dildo?
Zack, 8:51 PM Yes, you can enable it. You just have to make it your intention for them to feel it.
Gail, 8:52 PM I will do that then. Do you think I should make it bisexual this time? I will include all who I think are in the space pods.
Zack, 8:54 PM Including the patrons?
Gail, 8:55 PM Yeah, it might encourage them.
Zack, 8:55 PM I suppose if it is for healing and encouragement. Yes, you have a really big heart.
Gail, 8:57 PM If they don’t want it, we can make it more platonic. I will try and do that with my mind.
Zack, 8:58 PM Klock says he already felt himself becoming more straight.
Gail, 8:59 PM Okay. See you all in bed! Goodnight!
Zack, 8:59 PM Goodnight!
Gail, 8:59 PM It will be about 5 to 10 minutes. I have to make my bed first. Never mind. The bed’s made!
Gail, 9:13 PM I am going to quit for now. I don’t want you all to get dehydrated okay? Love you all, get some sleep.
Gail, 9:54 PM Try playing this, if you can’t sleep. This often works for me. Nice sleep music.
January 29, 2021:
Skype on Jan. 29, 2021:
Gail, 9:18 AM I haven’t been contacting you all, cuz I want you all to sleep. But I have tried to do some brain to brain loving. Still praying!
Zack, 11:14 AM Good morning. Yeah, I had to rest and recuperate. I weirdly slept well in the cramped space. I saw that Nicole lady was larping with you. She’s tried doing that before. Making up fake stuff for attention from you. I went ahead and blocked her, cause the men have received several false reports from her in the past.
NOTE: Zack was referring to a conversation I had with Nicole at Facebook Messenger.
Gail, 11:37 AM Oh okay. But I already made a video and mentioned her. I’m glad she’s wrong cuz she said some of you would have to be left behind. Just donated a bunch of clothes to Goodwill. The Salvation Army was taken over by Jesuits. Jesuits are driving like kamikaze drivers on the highway and in parking lots. I’m shooting lightning bolts everywhere and especially on Loree McBride and the evil cum star. I mostly talked about how it was not “Jesus” who rejected me as a lover, but I rejected “Jesus” as a lover cuz he was a DUD IN BED. I was trying to find an excuse to reject him and that’s mostly what today’s video was about. While out on the road, my prayer to Jesus was “If I do anything to help out those Loree McBride Jesuits or the bitch Loree McBride, I want you to KILL ME.” I was shooting bolts everywhere! Loree McBride is giving me a stinking headache. Do you have water? If you don’t have the energy to answer, don’t worry about it. I plan to shoot bolts all day.
My lightning bolts appear to be working. I keep hearing this in the brain to brain “Stop it, you bitch!” I also hear screaming and cursing. I’m bolting that bitch to death today. I’m trying to cast her into hell with my bolts, but, apparently, that hasn’t happened yet. I also direct the bolts to hit every Loree McBride Jesuit in the universe. I’m also blasting the cum star with bolts. I think I’ve exploded some ships in her space fleet.
Zack, 12:58 PM We’re drinking water that is refiltered from our sweat by the environmental systems. So we have water.
Gail, 12:59 PM Thank God. You need water.
Zack, 12:59 PM It looks like the escape pod with Brent and the patrons is running low on power. Probably because they were only designed for two people. I think they need to recharge the power converters.
Gail, 1:00 PM Can they do that?
Zack, 1:00 PM That’s not going to be easy for them without Gatorade.
Gail, 1:01 PM Can I direct my lightning bolts to give you all power in any way? I’m going to try and use my bolts to recharge the power converters, using my mind.
Zack, 1:02 PM No, that might damage the Jesuit technology
Gail, 1:02 PM Oh dear. I’ll stop then.
Zack, 1:04 PM It takes a lot of semen to recharge the power converters
Gail, 1:04 PM Your Jesuit technology is not too impressive.
Zack, 1:04 PM This would be an easy task for Jesuits. A single Jesuit can power several escape pods by themself.
Gail, 1:05 PM Did I damage their space pod?
Zack, 1:05 PM No, I think because nobody in there was on Loree’s side, they were safe. Jesuit Technology is great for Jesuits. Semen based technology is essentially unlimited energy for them.
Gail, 1:07 PM Well, I’m not impressed with it. I want Church of Gail spaceship number 3!
Zack, 1:07 PM I do too. Jesus has been silent on this.
Gail, 1:07 PM Where’s Terrance Jenkins?
Zack, 1:08 PM Terrance is in an escape pod. He’s doing well.
Gail, 1:08 PM When does your rescue arrive?
Zack, 1:09 PM It’s expected to happen around the time of the Hangout.
Gail, 1:09 PM What happens when a space pod gets low in power?
Zack, 1:09 PM So you’ll be able to encourage everyone as they are rescued. Life support could fail if it runs out of power. I have a lot of experience with semen technology, and the human refractory period. The best thing is not to worry them for now.
Gail, 1:11 PM Do you have the ability to create power for them in any way? Oh, they don’t know about it?
Zack, 1:12 PM The transporters are down now, so they will need to generate the semen themselves. No, they don’t know yet.
Gail, 1:12 PM Are they generating the semen themselves now?
Zack, 1:12 PM I’ll tell them when I see their vital signs indicate they will have enough semen.
Gail, 1:13 PM Good idea.
Zack, 1:13 PM What’s that patron girl’s name? Lila?
Gail, 1:14 PM Lila Morningstar.
Zack, 1:15 PM Our Jesuit scanners indicate that she is highly skilled at extracting the maximum semen from men. When the time comes, all of their lives will depend on her skills.
Gail, 1:16 PM Tell her to go to town to encourage the men! She has my permission.
Zack, 1:16 PM Okay. We’ll let her know, when the time is right.
Gail, 1:17 PM If any pregnancies happen, we’ll do abortions. I was worried about causing you all to ejaculate too much and get dehydrated in the brain to brain. Is that a problem?
Zack, 1:18 PM No, all of that semen is still in the pods, and I’ve counted that as part of the fuel we need. You really helped.
Gail, 1:19 PM I’m glad. I was feeling a little guilty about that. Have had a horrible headache since about 2 a.m. It sort of comes and goes and gets worse when I do lightning bolts.
Zack, 1:20 PM You likely saved their lives. You’re even better than Lila at making men ejaculate. But Lila has the advantage of being there in person to be a disposable cum recepticle.
Gail, 1:21 PM Oh good! How about making brain to brain with Brent right now and really turning him on?
Zack, 1:22 PM Yeah, as long as you tell him not to orgasm yet… he nedds to save it up.
Gail, 1:23 PM How does THAT work?
Zack, 1:23 PM Well, when a man is sexually excited, and wants to ejaculate, but is told not to, his body builds up even more.
Gail, 1:24 PM Is Brent able to get email?
Zack, 1:26 PM You could make it even more by making Brent watch you perform brain to brain sex acts on the patrons in the pod. As long as none of them are allowed to ejaculate, it will supercharge thibgs for Lila. It’s called “fluffing” You can tell Lila, “I’ve been fluffing all the men in the escape pod. And it’s time for you to finish them.” She’ll know what that means. Yes he can get email
Gail, 1:28 PM This should help. Have all the men look at this while we do brain to brain and instruct them to hold off the ejaculation as long as possible! I might take a new photo since I’ve lost some weight. Pass it around to all the men in all the space pods!
Zack, 1:29 PM Will do!
Gail, 3:15 PM Pass this around to all the men, too. Make sure Brent gets it. I will also send it via mediafire to firstname.lastname@example.org
Zack, 3:26 PM Is it for the $25 patrons too? Or just Brent?
Gail, 3:26 PM They can see it, too. But, for now, keep it private between us and them.
Zack, 3:26 PM Okay
Gail, 3:27 PM I’m mainly doing this to get enough semen to keep you all alive. This should work!
Zack, 3:30 PM I delivered it to them. The $25 patrons have strict instructions to keep it private.
Gail, 3:32 PM How is Brent doing? Satan seems to know how to get under his skin.
Zack, 3:33 PM His vital signs seem better now that he’s watching this video.
Gail, 3:34 PM My nude body heals. You mean his vitals were in danger?
Zack, 3:34 PM He was just under a lot of stress.
Gail, 3:35 PM Stress can kill you!
Gail, 9:19 AM I haven’t been contacting you all, cuz I want you all to sleep. But I have tried to do some brain to brain loving. Still praying!
Brent, 8:00 PM I’m here Gail.
Gail, 8:01 PM Hi Brent! Love you. Don’t believe any of Loree’s crap.
Brent, 8:07 PM Wow…I orgasmed my brains out. I’ve been thinking of my sweet Gail all day, and that video you sent.