MARDI GRAS STREET festival was building up its fete with partying revellers in costumes and beads dancing in the streets of New Orleans, Louisiana—passing colourful gigantic motorcade of floats promoted the regalia of Cory's party in the election campaign.

One of the passing floats was a tall nodding Trojan horse being travailed by disguised Intersexuals in carnival masks—among them were Ramirez and the Hispanics dressed up as primaeval slaves with the black Hajja cracking the whip at them. He wore a knee-length amber tunic with his matching caped Trojan warrior costume. The floats were led by the giant King's Cake that was nearing the heavily guarded auditorium where the political Cory Fundraiser was to be held in a moment.

A figure dressed in Jesus Christ robe with wig and beard walked against the rabble, a young woman lifted her t-shirt to him, exposing her huge breasts, "Jesus, my Lord, come bless my Sacred Heart?" But the Jesus stature was distracted by the sound of a siren coming behind his back—the Presidential convoy fleet of limos was nearing the vicinity of the auditorium.

On building rooftops of neighbouring buildings were scores of God' Army troops in perched position—among them was Marlin, with their rifles pointing at the street below.

The street was filled with female street cops and Riot police who were controlling the revelry jam in sartorial festival colours of purple, green and gold—they were in vigil and anticipating the arriving Presidential convoy—the crowds were chanting for Cory.

Wu Leong and an Asian Intersexual were inside the belly of the wooden framed Trojan horse float. Wu Leong has his sniper rifle out in the concealed opening gap—it aimed and zeroed at the approaching Presidential fleet of vehicles.

On the journey over from the Mojave Desert, Wu Leong had searched online in Baidu.com about his new given nickname Oswald—he discovered that the late assassin hailed by birth in that same city of New Orleans, Louisiana—he saw that the coincidence as a Feng Shui's auspicious sign to his in next to no time accomplishment—Cory will be going down as another JFK tonight.

In the back streets, lax beat cops were on patrol, mesmerized by the lurid of the passing parade at a distance—they were jumped and putsch by some lissome blacks who induced their swift cutthroats executions.

A few hours ago, the rebels had ingress the city secretly via duct of the river point—but soon after hearing the arrival of the presidential convoy, hundreds of the hiding armed OGA members led by both of the black and Hispanic lieutenants emerged from adjacent buildings—they all wore navy-blue militia camouflaged pants with black sweater tops, moving swiftly into the dark milieus.

The Presidential fleet was in the vicinity and awaiting official representatives came forward to welcome the Washington delegates. The Jesus figure observed the cars with a long pirate telescope—he spied at the doors of cars opening and the envois alighting. Wu Leong locked his target into the President's limo—he glanced out at Vice President Mary Freeman get out, she was waving to the louder cheering predominant black crowd. Wu Leong's trigger finger was locked...

Jesus removed his wig and facial hair—disclosing his scar-faced identity underneath the raiment guise—Doran shouted into his walkie...

"Sniper, stand down! It is not the snake-woman—the Vice President is not our target—stand down and don't shoot her!"

The annoyed Wu Leong cursed in Chinese, he targeted the police escorts nearby the Vice President; and that initiated the first wave of attack. Secret Service agents dived in and pushed the blood-splattered Mary Freeman back into her limousine to protect her from the unseen shooter. The vehicle drove off in a hurry. Hajja and Ramirez's people stopped heaving the Trojan horse, they were now armed with rifles which were concealed on their float earlier—they started shooting at the uniformed cops who retaliated to the attacks.

From the rooftop, Li Chi and the rest of the Intersexuals began barraging at the cops below. Hundreds of OGA insurgents broke out by storming in full din into the street carnival. Sexy Samba dancers in bright feathered costumes on floats who were undercover policewomen started shooting with their machine guns in recrimination at the advancing Preacher's rebel army below...

The historical Battle of New Orleans insurrection has begun.

-O-

Marlin on the rooftop looked over his shoulder and he detected the aerial incoming force majeure of four Army Apache combat helicopters from afar

"Oh fuck—not again!"

He remembered he had impaired himself with a cracked rib injury sustained from jumping off Tombscradle's watchtower from the previous aerial assaults.

He tapped on a shooting BGF Lieutenant and pointed at the choppers to him and warned of the imminent consequences. "We will be sitting ducks here, let's get off the roof now!"

The black lieutenant was unwavering...

"No, we retain our position, we shoot those birds down!" He stood up and pointed his surface-to-air anti-aircraft Javelin towards the nearing choppers—ready with his countercharge sally.

Down in the skirmish street was the fleeting multitude of dying enforcers. Female police dressed in Native American tribal feathers tossed grenades at the Trojan horse that was shielded by machine-gunned Hispanics in helot costumes. The explosion wretched the horse's front legs like splinters—and the rickety towering wooden steed creation collapsed...

Oswald-Wu Leong crawled out alive from the retaliation—but his triad assistant was trodden dead under, and he was then immolated by the blazing ligneous structure of the Trojan horse.

Doran in the Jesus robe ran vitiate into the chaotic streets of screaming and weltering crowd—he was randomly shooting down more policewomen at sight in the melee. He noticed the fleet of riot police trucks and squad cars coming from all corners of the streets to siege and backup the assaults...

He calcified a moment, remembering Cory's ambush warning that Reeves had forewarned him before leaving the Mojave Desert.

-O-

Out from the backstreet, demagogue armada of pimped-up Mexi-chromed pickup trucks drove up, armed with heavy artillery guns mounted at the back—the OGA vehicles enfiladed back to intercept the attacking riot police; resulting with firepower exchanged between both sides...

One of the trucks was driven by Hank. Kiki-boy was at the back of the pickup firing his rifle—he looked shit-scared when the truck zigzagged among fiery debris of the carnival floats that also showered with raking fireworks of bullets fired in the counterattack. The rebel gunner on the moving truck manning the heavy artillery but he was cut down by the raining bullet charges—another fellow redneck took over the big gun, and he resumed the coup de main...