From this bannination thread, the winning entry was by Kesshi, with 10 votes:
“Write a story about a Scino going undercover and attending one of the Anonymous protests on Scientology in 1st person from the Scino’s POV. The Scino wore a mask, took pictures, mingled, even chanted and handed out flyers to give the impression that she/he was part of the group.
One rule, though. At the end of the story, the Scino must NOT convert away from Scientology, regardless of all else.”
Here’s your 500 words, Kesshi.
They’re disgusting, really. Sure, they call themselves “Anonymous” and pretend to be some sort of crusading vigilantes, but in reality they’re all just punk kids out to try and cause trouble.
And while I’m going to have to go and take a lot of auditing units to get these thetans out of my body, it’s worth it. None of these Anonymous have any idea that I’m not really one of their number. Not one of them suspects that the man in the mask holding the sign about “The Con goes On!” is anything other than another one of their cowardly number.
I don’t see why they’re protesting, anyway. It’s not like the Church does anything particularly bad–nothing that everyone else doesn’t already do. Why don’t they go protest a mosque or something instead? Something worthwhile?
But still I shout and cheer and sing ridiculous old 80’s pop songs. Whose idea was it to bring “Never Gonna Give You Up” on CD anyway? Why not the theme to Top Gun or something else that’s actually, you know, good?
I see an opportunity in the back: one of the kids has taken off his mask to mop the sweat off his forehead. Out comes the camera–there, I’ve got him. He’ll be getting a visit from one of the private investigators now, and perhaps we can get some leverage on his parents or something. I take a few other pictures to disguise my intentions; they caught another one of our plants earlier when he forgot to do that. Maybe I’ll get a discount on my next rundown if I can catch enough of these “Anonymous” kids without their masks on–there’s another one. Out with the camera, three pictures of other things, shout “Longcat is long!” and go back to signwaving. I’m safe.
I keep having trouble remembering who exactly we’re supposed to be protesting about. Lisa MacDonald, was it? Who cares if some defective couldn’t make it through a rundown, anyway? It’s not like she can’t try again when her thetan regenerates–after all, only a few people can get it right the first time. Besides, we do a lot more good than harm, and we don’t go sending terrorist threats to churches.
A car goes by honking and waving, and I take another couple of pictures. I think I got the license plate on that one.
They’re handing out cake now. I try to stay as far away from it as I can. These are the kind of kids that go to raves and things, and I need to keep my body as pure as possible. I make a mental note to talk to my auditor about this cake as being really entheta–it’s really starting to worry me how excited these kids are getting over it.
I can see some of the people in the mission taping out the windows. I’m glad that that safety net is there in case these “Anonymous” figure out that I’m not really another one of them. I’ll be glad when this protest is over and I can get back on the Bridge.
