"Don't you try to come up 'n' see me, Cope. They won't letcha in."
"Who won't let me in, Red? And where is it I shouldn't try to come up to? Assuming I wanted to see you, that is."
"That there Citydale. Ain't you been paying attention? Ain't you heard 'bout the biggest thing to hit Ideeho since tater tots? Ain't you ever watch no news?"
"Ah, yes. The Citadel."
"That's right. The Citydale. An' they don't want nothin' t' do with no lib'rals n'r Dem'crats n'r progressivites n'r whatever y'r calling y'rselves these days. Sos if'n you want to tell me anything, you'll just have to stand outside the wall and holler."
"So you're seriously moving there?"
"Gull durn right I'm movin' there. I been waiting for somethin' like the Citydale to come along all my life. I knew down in my heart how I was born to live behind a big rock wall with nothing but regular fellers jus' like me. Cope, I'm tellin' ya', it'll be almost like a family reunion, only it'll never end and they won't really be family. Which is a good thing. I got me some family I wouldn't wanta be stuck with f'r a 10-minute coffee break, let alone forever.
"But up there inside that big rock wall, it'll be like I'm with my brain family, sees what I'm gettin' at? Where all of us'll be having the same brain waves, if not the same blood an' genetical wirin' an' such."
"Red, I realize there's a picture of a big rock wall on their website. But are you sure that isn't just a symbol?"
"What you mean, 'symbol?' Are you sayin' there might not be a real big rock wall? That it might be jus' a ... a ..."
"A sales gimmick? I think that's likely. Big rock walls don't come cheap, you know. They only have to sell the perception that no matter what happens, you'd be all safe and cozy and untroubled with conflicting brain waves. It's like a Snuggie for paranoid survivalists."
"Yeah, but without one o' y'r actual big rock wall, hows they gonna keep out the lib'rals, an', uh ... you know ... them others?"
"What others, Red? Why don't you just tell me who 'them others' are so I don't have to guess? Why don't you come right out and say it so there won't be any confusion as to exactly who you don't want coming into your Citadel and living next door to you?
"Come on, Red. Who it is that a bunch of 'regular fellers' like yourself are so worried about that you would pick up and move to some hillbilly squat in North Idaho just so you don't have to be around them? Or that you fear so much, you're willing to center the rest of your life around your guns and your big rock wall? C'mon, Red, tell me."
"I know wheres y'r getting at, an' you don't know what y'r talking 'bout, Cope."
"Really? Then why is that every time some low-rent con man sets out to sucker a bunch of nitwit misfits into buying a parcel in isolationist Heaven, they pick North Idaho? Is it just a coincidence that quasi-fascist trash like Richard Butler and Bo Gritz and Randy Weaver all picked the same general neighborhood to dig their holes in? Or that it happens to be about as far from any significant urban area as you can get and still be inside the lower 48? And by 'urban area,' I mean 'place where people aren't all one skin tone.'"
"See, there you go! Jumpin' to conclootchans! Ever'time a feller decides he wants to survive all the horr'ble horr'bleness whats coming in the future, you lib'rals go to supposin' its all about them, uh ... them other folks. That's hows come you don't know what y'r talkin' 'bout, Cope. You ever think it might be 'bout fallin' comets?"
"You betcha! Comets could come down and hit all them whatchacall 'urban' places. An' then nobody what lives there has anything t' eat, so they cut their hair into those spiky mohawk hairdos and ride their souped-up cycles out into all the places what still got stuff t' eat. An' without our guns an' our big rock wall, it might be us what them gangs 'r hungry for! That's acause you never know if some extra-terrestrical germs might be in those comets what turns them urbanist peoples into man-eaters!"
"Now it's zombies, is it?"
"Yes sirree! Zom-bies! Just 'cause it ain't never happened, Cope, doesn't mean it won't! An' let me tell you somethin', mister ... there ain't no such thing as skin tone when it comes t' them zombies. They'll eat whatever brains they can get their horr'ble hands on, whether it's white meat 'r dark."
"Now you're just making crap up, Red."
"Ain't not! It could happen, I'm tellin' ya'! An' that ain't even mentionin' how the feds got it all planned out t' hand us over to them U.N. buggers. That's a known fact, Cope! An' what about the Chinese gangin' up with them Venyzualanites an' invadin' us from both ends? That don't have nothin' t' do with no welfare queens n'r race riots n'r mauradin' rap dancers, now does it? Huh? Does it?!"
"Red. I guess I have you all wrong. So you wouldn't mind if, oh ... let's say ... Denzel Washington bought himself a lot in the Citadel?"
"Dang right, ya' got me all wr ... er ... wait a minute here. Who'd you say?"
Is this the last we hear from Red? Will he disappear for good behind the big rock Citadel wall? Will there even be a big rock Citadel wall? And how bad could it get when enough nitwit misfits join brain waves? Stay tuned.