A sharp noise shatters the stillness. Moaning, you pull the blankets over your head, resenting the reveille that has called you from your peaceful haven. With a great exertion of willpower, you overcome your lassitude and lift your head from the pillows, forcing yourself to face the red, white, and blue day.
God Bless America, your still-muddled mind murmurs, as you rifle through your closet, trying to choose from your collection of flag-adorned attire. Selecting a shirt and pants, you pull them on and stumble down the stairs towards your all-American breakfast of sugary cereal.
Still in a half-stupor, you bring the enormous TV to life with a touch of your hand. You watch a stylish reporter sporting a flag on his lapel flicker to life mid-sentence, while the backdrop of stars and stripes stands watch. As the reporter wraps up his summary of the morning�s headlines � an unruly peace protest quelled by heroic police; democracy bestowed upon a Godless nation by American heroes; another evildoer and his domain blasted off of an increasingly tri-colored map � he smiles and says proudly, �God Bless America.�
Rising from the table, you collect the necessary items for school and walk out the front door. As you pass under the American flag adorning your front porch, you turn, look up at it, salute, and continue on your way.
Your route to school is covered with three colors; red, white, and blue. Every house waves the obligatory flag; every car displays it. Stereos emit the strains of the national anthem and patriotic marches, and you begin to walk to their beat. Marching along, feet pounding the pavement in time with the trumpets, you think, once again, �God Bless America.�
The school appears around the corner. Murals of American heroism stand as a reminder to students of their inherent greatness as citizens, and watchful walls keep the school safe from un-American, dangerous dissent. Smiling teachers look on as each student salutes the flag before entering. You do the same.
A commotion behind you destroys the normalcy of the morning. Turning around, you see stern-faced teachers surrounding one student. She is an obvious danger; American colors are clearly lacking in her entirely black ensemble. Uniformed Patriot Police pour out of their hiding places and surround the seditious terrorist.
It is over soon; the heroes in their flag armbands carry off the evildoer to the detainment camp nearby. You follow the rest of the students into the school and sit in the auditorium, your day once again proceeding normally.
The school�s Patriot Officer steps up to the podium. He is, like any good citizen, wearing tri-colored clothing. You watch him, smiling, as he stands in front of the vigilant stars and stripes. He opens his mouth and proclaims, �God Bless America.�
You raise your voice in a resounding cheer along with your classmates. He begins to speak. Explaining the news to you, he teaches the future leaders how to gain the land that is rightfully theirs as Americans. He speaks of the glory of the great nation of America, and emphasizes the point that white is, after all, the only racial color in the flag. You smile and begin to fantasize about your future rich, powerful, utopia.
But there is more to come. He smiles and compliments you, the patriots of tomorrow, the ones who will protect America from communists, terrorists, and evildoers. You feel a swelling of pride in you; your choice to attend this school, a certified patriotism promoter, was the right one.
His smile suddenly morphs into a serious expression as he tells of the misguided citizens who do not attend certified schools, by choice or by force. They are dangerous; they must be brought to Patriot Camps for re-education. You, once again, feel a satisfied smile on your face at the thought of the glory and generosity of America, even towards the most unpatriotic.
The speech is ending. As the Patriot Officer closes, your straight arm slices through the air, pointing out and up from your body. Energy courses through you as you raise your voice in the roar from the audience:
�Heil!�