The Little Engine That Couldn’t: A Social Justice Tale

The Little Engine that Couldn’t wanted to set out to the station over the hill in order to pick up non-genderdefined Tumblr users who were going on a march demonstration against the patriarchy (It would have been a march, but they realised this was an ableist term). But just as the little engine was about to set out, it learned that the tracks had been laid by a racial minority on minimum wage.

“What shitlord hired Mexicans to lay these tracks?” Wailed the little engine.

“We had to hire whoever would work for minimum wage.” Replied the station controller, who was a white, middle aged, heterosexual male whose very presence oppressed the little engine.

“I didn’t ask you, fuck face!” Yelled the little engine. “Stop raping me with your patriarchy!”

The station controller was concerned by this accusation, and didn’t want to have to field any frivolous lawsuits, so he left to fetch the lady who sold tickets, to see if she could use her status as an empowered womyn to convince the little engine to do it’s fucking job.

Meanwhile a little boy came up to the little engine. “You’re not a very nice train” said the little boy. But his privileged upbringing angered the little engine.

“I identify as a bisexual ice dragon! I DEMAND you refer to me as my preferred species!” Screamed the little engine.

“You look like a train to me.” Said the little boy.

“It’s not my job to educate you, shitlord!” Shouted the engine. “You can’t understand what it’s like to be womyn oppressed by the patriarchy, because you have a penis!”

“But you’re a train… You don’t even have sex organs.” He said, matter of factly.

“A VAGINA IS A STATE OF MIND!” screamed the little engine.

At this point the little boy decided to give up his dream of becoming a train driver, it was clear that trains were too difficult to deal with. Instead he decided to use his white privilege as a springboard for a career as a stock broker, so he’d never have to use public transport again, and he could have a trophy wife who wouldn’t care about Womyn’s Issues as long as he kept giving her money. Just as he left, the station controller returned with the ticket lady.

The ticket lady had worked at the station a long time, and she had seen many things, but never had she encountered an engine that claimed to be a bisexual female ice dragon. The little engine saw her approach, and respected xer as a womyn identifying individual, but was concerned that such an old person was probably an internalized misogynist shill for the patriarchy.

“Can you believe that little fuck?” Asked the little engine, rhetorically. Zee wanted to test the ticket lady’s sympathy to the Social Justice Cause.

“He’s young and innocent.” Replied the ticket lady, clearly impatient. “And you are running late to collect the activists for their demonstration.”

“His constant mis-speciesing and mis-gendering triggered me! I just… can’t!” Screamed the little engine. “And besides, it’s not my job to educate little shitlords!”

“No, but it is your job to bring the passengers to their destination.” Replied the ticket lady. She had always worked an honest job, and had no patience for the modern youth, and their unrealistic expectations.

“STOP OPPRESSING ME, SHITLORD! Your internalized misogyny is raping my mind vagina! I JUST CAN’T DEAL WITH ALL OF YOU TRIGGERING ME!” Shouted the little train, before zee burst into tears. Then, whilst sobbing, added “This is totally going on my Tumblr account!”

So the station controller sent another train to pick up the activists, and with a heavy heart, had another engine come to tow away the little engine that couldn’t, so zee could be scrapped and turned into something useful.

The moral of the story?

Call yourself whatever you want. If being a transfatty Potterkin or whatever makes you feel better, do it. However, don’t expect the rest of us in the real world to play along, and we don’t care if you’re offended.

Oh, and “This was TRIGGERING! I am so done!” just means “Lalalala, I can’t hear you”, and carries exactly as much weight.