Red Sun in the Sky

[Dr. MB]

"Florida will be the epicenter of revolution in the first world. We have one of the sharpest class struggles and some of the most dedicated organizers. The myopic tendency of Florida-pessimistic 'leftists' to gawk at our bourgeois elections proves their liberalism."

-A wise sage


Tallahassee, Florida
January 5, 2027

The mood in the air was calmer than expected as Ronald Dion DeSantis approached the steps of the State Capitol. The two-term governor shook hands with the woman elected as his successor, former State Agricultural Commissioner Nikki Fried. Fried’s narrow victory was an impressive feat, defying the expectations of even the most astute political observers; a mere three months previously, it seemed close to impossible. A Democrat in the Florida governor’s mansion? In your dreams, man.

Yet a perfect storm had hit Florida, both literally and figuratively - following the devastating Hurricane Marco that August, much of the state found itself flooded and was left without power for several weeks, and Gov. DeSantis was panned for his inadequate response. Simultaneously, and perhaps fittingly, Senator Marco Rubio faced a more personal hurricane; he could not be found for several days after the storm. After the winds had subsided, he was discovered hiding out in a makeshift bunker in Hialeah with a male prostitute.

Additionally Gov. DeSantis’ participation in the election itself was not without controversy. The Florida legislature, with its Republican supermajorities, had abolished its two-term limit for governors, one of the strictest in the nation. The governor and once-again President Donald Trump neglected to repair their relationship after the former’s humiliating defeat in the 2024 presidential primary, but Meatball Ron’s popularity remained high enough among Republican voters in his home state to prevail over a divided primary field which included the Trump-endorsed Rep. Matt Gaetz and former Miami mayor Francis Suarez, another former presidential has-run who managed to amass a considerable war chest for himself.

So DeSantis, once again, expected Florida to deliver. But it was not so. On election night, the returns came in, and Nikki Fried, perceived by national Democrats as a lost cause, eked it out. Her celebrity in liberal circles skyrocketed; soon, former Election Twitter teenagers-turned still pathetic 20-somethings changed their profile pictures to her with laser eyes en masse, and the governor’s team went into crisis mode.

“Loser Ron. He’s a loser. Never should have betrayed me. He got what he deserved!”
-@realDonaldTrump, 11/4/26

The president flew on Air Force One to Palm Beach to cast his vote in-person, absentee voting having been banned by the DeSantis administration in preparation for the election. He declined to say who he cast his ballot for.
Chaos abounded. The governor was not seen in public for over a month after the result was certified; his aides took to talking in his place, and they seemed to quite enjoy talking. Their messages, for the most part, were clear: the governor would not accept the results of the election and would fight it in court. Yet no suit was filed. Fried had won by too large of a margin to trigger a recount; protest, it seemed, was all the DeSantis camp could do. Blame was placed on as many sources as possible - hacking from the socialist governments in Cuba and Venezuela, illegal immigrants bussed in from Atlanta, Democrat election administrators rigging the vote. Some particularly bold allies even blamed Donald Trump for the defeat, arguing the former president used his influence among loyal Florida Republicans to engineer an embarrassment for his friend-turned-foe.

That Tuesday morning, however, was calm. The governor, in a surprise turn of events, had announced days earlier that he would respect the results of the election and work on a peaceful transfer of power. Fried and Florida Democrats welcomed the news, deciding to go through with a public inauguration ceremony rather than the private one earlier planned. For a while, the Fried camp was unsure if DeSantis would willingly leave office, and were similarly weary of the legitimacy Florida’s Republican-dominated legislature and Supreme Court would give their administration. After DeSantis made his announcement, a wave of relief washed over Florida’s Democrats, eager to reclaim the governor’s mansion after nearly thirty years in the trenches and, hopefully, provide moderation and common sense to the increasingly radical Florida government. A complete reversal of DeSantis’ legacy, of course, seemed improbable -- the legislature was still strongly Republican and Fried could only do so much in her limited capability as governor. The governor-elect anxiously anticipated improving her state’s reputation among her fellow countrymen - Florida would restore its status as a shining example of the American dream among liberals as well as conservatives.

Nikki Fried paced down the steps of the Capitol and engaged in a brief yet firm handshake with Ron DeSantis, the clock ticking. She glanced at her watch. Twenty minutes until she, not he, would be in charge of the state. Ten minutes until rationality came back to Florida. Twenty minutes.

Nineteen minutes.

A convocation was given. A marching band played, dressed in quite fancy uniforms.

“Yeah, yeah. Just get through with it already,” Fried thought to herself.

As if God was listening, the formalities soon subsided as the main event was scheduled to start. This was Nikki Fried’s moment. She stood up, confidently, took her husband Jake Bergmann’s hand, and approached the podium.

Ron DeSantis, seated, smiled. Thunder sounded in the distance.

A man dressed in a military uniform descended the Capitol steps. “Excuse me,” he said . “There’s been a mistake.”

Nikki Fried, hand on the Bible, ignored him. She signaled to Chief Justice Carlos G. Muñiz to begin the ceremony.

“Excuse me,” the man said again. This time, it was more of a yell.

The governor-elect turned her head to find a pistol pointed at her, point-blank.

“You’re gonna want to come with me,” he calmly stated. Hauling Fried off, the man snapped his fingers. Several dozen armed men immediately rushed the Capitol steps, each quickly securing their intended targets - the Democratic members of the Florida legislature in attendance - and detaining them. A large cohort of armed police officers separated the crowd of onlookers from the now-sparse balcony; spectators began to flee.

Lightning struck the Florida capitol dome as Ron DeSantis took to the podium.

“It’s been the pleasure of my life for Florida voters to have placed their trust in me not once, not twice, but thrice,” his speech began. “Unfortunately, these are dark times for the state and for the country. The Communist menace has not been extinguished. I have received confirmation that Nikki Fried and her fellow Democrats are associated with a militant Marxist sect. As a lifelong patriot and a veteran of the United States Navy, I am outraged that the Democratic Party has been infiltrated by Communists and traitors. In light of these unprecedented circumstances, I am declaring a temporary state of emergency to extend to the entire state. The following measures will be enacted: The Democratic Party is hereby disbanded and its unrepentant members will be declared as enemy combatants and detained at Camp Swampy in Palm Beach County. All public funds allocated to the Democratic Party will be redirected to public security. I am also issuing a ban on travel outside Florida and will not permit any foreign nationals into the state. Furthermore, all public schools will be closed until further notice. This will not only prevent the infiltration of domestic Communism, but will also keep the enemy out of the Sunshine State. God bless our citizens, and may God have mercy on us all.”

[CapoteMonster]

This premise is so crazy, I love it lol

[Duke of York]

this is so beyond insane and look forward to seeing where it goes.

[President Punxsutawney Phil]

Looking forward to more.

[BigVic]

watched

[Roll Roons]

Oh dear lord. I'm excited to see where this goes...

[Dr. MB]

"At this point, there is just not a way to undo Ron DeSantis' impact on Florida without a revolution."


Guerrillas in the Mist

In Washington, D.C., recently elected members of the 120th Congress were settling into their new jobs. With a small Democratic majority in the Senate, and a more sizable one in the House, the newly victorious party felt a sense of calm in the air as they sat rest assured Trump’s agenda would find itself dead on arrival. However, passing any meaningful legislation would have to wait, as Democrats prepared to stand back and stand by for a more favorable president to take office in 2029.

When the news broke, though, the mood shifted from one of general content to one of panic. Democratic politicians took to social media almost immediately, every member issuing their own version of “This assault on our democratic institutions will not stand. I urge the Supreme Court to act as soon as possible…blah blah blah” within hours.

The president didn’t keep quiet either.

“Maybe Ron isn’t as much of a loser as I thought! Big developments in Florida! Look forward to visiting soon!”
-@realDonaldTrump, 1/5/27

However, words of resistance and statements of support to the liberal camp in Florida were all that Washington insiders could realistically accomplish. Without the White House on their side, Florida seemed doomed to suffer under DeSantis’ despotic hand for at least the next two years. By then, of course, the public will have moved on, their short attention span focused on more pressing issues; Republicans, obviously, never cared in the first place, and Democrats would choose put other things at the forefront, leaving the liberal wine moms and dwindling MSNBC-watching demographic as the few remaining parroters of the democracy-first message. The passive acceptance of such actions, just as with countless other norms-defying actions by the right in the previous decade and a half, would become just another unavoidable aspect of American political reality.

Or maybe their pessimism got the best of them. But why wouldn’t it? Trump, despite all he did, all the crimes he committed and all the lies he told, managed to once again capture the hearts and minds of a hundred thousand persuadable voters in a couple key states, returned triumphantly to D.C., and did about as much damage as you would expect an increasingly senile paranoid despot surrounded by sycophants to do to the country. He wasn’t popular, but his increasingly blatant abuses of power were met with a shrug at most. The 2026 midterms, while welcomed, turned out to be more of a blue ripple than a true tsunami. The American public’s general apathy and goldfish-like attention span ensured whatever happened would soon be forgotten. January 5 would go the way of January 6.

So what were they to do? Realistically, not much, without violating the same institutional norms they decried Republicans on the daily for abusing. And hypocrisy sucks.

35% of Floridians own a gun. That doesn’t bode well for peace in times of civil discontent. But why should that matter? Florida hasn’t seen armed conflict since 1865, a time when 150,000 called it home compared to the 23 million of today, most of the state was undeveloped swampland, and people were, in general, a little more rough around the edges. Guns, in the American tradition, are tools of defense and protection rather than of aggression.

After an unelected leader seizes power by force, though, without swift force and a unified public behind him, hopes of peace become futile. In fact, the man broke the peace in the first place by tampering with the popular will. So what justification is there for the people not to use force in defense of their democratic rights as citizens?

As you can expect, DeSantis anticipated a blowback; almost immediately after taking office, he required all State and National Guard troops, police officers, and state officials to swear an oath of loyalty to him upon threat of termination. Most complied. A few didn’t, but that didn’t really matter. They were powerless. With the monopoly of power firmly in his hands, and without any threat of pushback from the federal government, the governor could rest easy. Maybe some liberals in DC or New York or California would fuss a little, but what could they do? Nothing. If anyone tried to cause a ruckus, law enforcement would come rolling in. If any out-of-state agitators came, the border’s secure.

You can’t account for everything, though. No plan is perfect. Businesses remained, for the most part, open. And the gun stores in Florida saw record sales that day. And the day after that. And the day after that. Cracking down on the Second Amendment, of course, was unthinkable. So business kept on booming.

The first wave of protests didn’t go so well for the protestors. As expected, the police moved in quickly and dispersed the crowds. For a few days, they kept coming back, but the threat of arrest or serious injury (or worse) was too much to bear for all but the most dedicated of Floridian opposition supporters.

By the end of January, it seemed as if all was calm.

Florida’s a big state, though, and despite the environmental devastation that has been wrought on it for the past century and a half to make way for golf courses and master-planned communities, there’s still a lot of nature. The Everglades constitute the largest patch of continuous swamp on the continent. There’s very little in the way of civilization out there, save for a few dwellings here and there and the occasional passing boat.

On the outskirts of the Everglades lies the town of Homestead, the southernmost suburb of Miami. And at the center of Homestead lies an unusually large concentration of gun shops. On the morning of February 1, the owners of two of those shops arrived to work to find their windows broken and their stock depleted. By then, the culprits were all the way on the other side of the state, just outside Naples, their recent haul safely secured inside a locked garage and the stolen trucks returned to their owners without a hint of what had just transpired.

Inside the nearby house, a dozen or so people huddled together plotting their next attack. The Homestead robbery would surely incite suspicion from the government. And, while carefully plotted, there are always uncertainties. They needed to lay low. But they couldn’t lay low for too long. Big plans were afoot. Visitors were coming soon who would expect to leave with more than they currently could supply. So they dispersed in groups of two, each on their way to meet several more people who would then be briefed on their plans. They had one overarching mission - to lay low for exactly two more weeks, solely working on increasing their stockpile, followed by a firestorm so rapid and so forceful that they could no longer be ignored.