Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

Barra da Tijuca, 1pm, Thursday. Another quiet and normal day in the melancholic life of Enzo Carvalho. After another day of classes, he was eager to get back to his place, Lake. Unfortunately, Vini could not join him on his 8 kilometer journey by bus. As a result, Enzo missed the ride from Julio, the driver, and was forced to walk. The 12-minute journey turned into an hour-long walk. With no one to talk to, he tried to call his ex-girlfriend Italy. Sadly for him, there was no answer. But there was still some hope, because Mr. Banks, Italy's father, was blessed with seven more daughters. And most importantly, Enzo did not fight - or sleep - with all of them. At least not at the same time. Even so, it would still be a risky move. At first, he called Russia, who also did not answer. His next call should be to Belgium, but what would he get from that? She had been Vini's girlfriend for months and would remain so, if he didn't do anything stupid. There were still four other girls. The nymphomaniac Albania, Poland, Slovakia and Greece. The problem was that he didn't have much contact with either Poland, Slovakia or Greece, and Albania is all about sex and nothing beyond that. So, once again, he was alone.

But as it turned out, that was not exactly the case, because as soon as he turned off his cell phone, Enzo was confronted with a strange environment. Confined, with mirrors, and with perfume. Perhaps he had walked into a college drama class, but without the smell of marijuana it was very hard to tell. He looked around and took a few seconds to process the information that he was in a bathroom. And not only that. A woman came out of the booth and stared at him, confused and somewhat fidgety. Enzo seemed lost. Completely lost.

- Holy shit, how did I get here?

The situation got worse when a group of women also entered the bathroom. Enzo claimed that World War III would be caused by a group of angry women after a 10 minutes meeting in the ladies' room. Or when Vladimir Putin woke up with a stomach ache. Whichever came first - and considering recent events, someone did not wake up in a good mood in the Kremlin.

- Fuck! What is a man doing here? - one of the women asked.

- There's a fucking man in the ladies' room!

- Get out of here, you man!

- You motherfucker!

The sentences welcoming the XY chromosome were forgotten. If it were up to that group of women, Enzo would be sentenced to the stake. There was no escape, unless...

- I am not a man. - Enzo said, in a desperate attempt to save himself. - I am a woman.

Oh, boy.

- No fucking way! Fuck off!

- Are you accusing me of not being a woman?

- Yes, and accusing you of being a fucking liar!

- Okay, that's enough! - Enzo soon got into character. - I don't need to listen to this crap.

- Then take off your fucking pants!

Uh-oh.

- What? - Enzo asked. Nervously.

- Drop your pants! Just drop them!

- You're bluffing!

- There's bound to be a dick between your legs!

But the thing is, they weren't bluffing. What could Enzo do? The situation couldn't get any worse. Well, in fact, of course it could. Because a policewoman took a quick break in the bathroom and heard all the fuzziness. There were other bathrooms, of course, but obviously the law and order officer needed to use precisely that one. Either to save Enzo's butt, or to take him to Bangu I(*).

- What the hell is going on?

- This guy is saying that he is a woman!

The policewoman looked at Enzo. And asked:

- Are you a woman?

- Of course I am! - Enzo answered. - As you are.

- Oh, I don't think so. - One of the women doubted.

- You have... - The policewoman was about to ask, but backed off. - You know.

- Know what?

But Enzo knew. He just wanted to make a difficult situation even more difficult.

- He has a fucking cock!

- So what? Just because I have a dick doesn't mean I'm not a woman! I may be a woman who doesn't menstruate, but have the head and thinking of a woman.

Yes, Enzo had no clue what he was saying anymore. And if he could get out of there with the least amount of damage, the better.

- Listen, kid, I don't know who you are or what you want, but you have to get out of here. - The policewoman made a reasonable recommendation.

There you go. End of story. Unless Enzo wanted to complicate his life even more, the situation was solved...

- But what if I don't leave?

Oh.

To make things even better, a woman with a shaved head and wearing a frock interrupted them.

- This is prejudice against trans men! - she said.

Except that Enzo had no idea what she was saying. I mean, he had heard of trans, like the fat in processed foods. But who says it ends there?

- I'll get your number and your name! - The shaven-headed woman was not to be trifled with and complained to the policewoman. - I'll file a complaint against you!

- Bring it on! - The policewoman showed her his last name and the identification number on her uniform.

When Enzo didn't think it could get any worse...

- What's your name, Sis?

Sis?

- Ugh... - Enzo didn't quite know what to say. - Enzo?

- Yes, but that's your birth name. What is your identifying name?

- Samantha. Davies. Samantha Davies.

- Samantha, we can't let situations like this happen again. I had never witnessed anything like this before, so I stepped in. Tomorrow we will hold a huge protest in Copacabana. Our voices will be heard.

Tomorrow? But tomorrow is Friday. Enzo had school.

- I won't be able to go. I have class.

- Well, your oppressive, sexist principal has to let you go. The protest is all about you.

Oh, boy.

- I'll see what I can do. - Enzo said, in a desperate attempt to get out of that mess.

- Where you live?

Don't say, don't say, don't say.

- In Barra.

Oh.

- Fine. I'll pick you up tomorrow at noon.

12:00? Don't these people have jobs and things to do?

But there was no escape. The shaven-headed woman still wanted to meet Enzo for a conversation. He thought about running away, but couldn't think of anything more intelligent, like a stomach ache or explosive diarrhea.

- When did you come out? - she asked.

- I did? - Enzo didn't understand.

- You came out that you weren't a man.

- Oh, I think it was two years ago.

- Many people are coming out with the increase of LGBT issues in the mainstream media. The idea now is to penetrate children's programs and cartoons and start introducing the idea that homosexuality and diversity are a natural process.

- Let me ask you a question. Can I come out as anything? I am technically a boy, but can I say that I am anything?

- And it can be nothing, too.

- Nothing?

- Yeah. Not a man, not a woman.

- So, what would I be?

- Nothing. A person.

That discussion was getting dangerous.

- Tomorrow you will meet people just like you. My best friend, Gig, has no gender and is pansexual.

What the hell is that, Enzo thought. But he had a prepared answer, but he figured that anything he said beyond the obvious could be bad.

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Enzo said his goodbyes and ran as fast as he could to Lake. After absolutely everything that had happened, the hour-long walk had turned into a five-minute run down the bike path next to the street by the house. Still, it could be worse.

Instead of going to his apartment, Enzo knocked on Vini's door. Strangely, he had locked the door, which could only mean one thing. Belgium was in the apartment with him, probably doing something nasty. Or watching Formula 1. Oh, nah. That' s what Enzo would be doing.

- Vini, Vini, Vini!

He opened the door and acted surprised.

- Enzo! What a surprise!

- Very funny. Do you have a glass of Matte and a cigar there?

Now Vini had a genuine reaction of surprise. But not that shocked.

- What have you done?

- Some stupid stuff.

- I'm shocked. But how big was the goof this time?

- Huge. The length of a train.

Considering that Vini already knew that Enzo had been doing something, asking how big it was seemed almost superfluous.

The next day, a Peugeot 206 car parked in front of Lake Buena Vista, Vini and Enzo's house. The doormen didn't understand why an unknown vehicle stopped next to the black gate that separated the condominium from the world outside. The shaven-headed woman got out of the vehicle and met Enzo, just a few minutes late. Okay, okay, he didn't want to go. But killing a day of school? It wouldn't be so bad. At least that's what Enzo figured.

- What's up, Samantha?

- Good, good. - Enzo answered, a little sloppy.

- Are you nervous?

- Nervous isn't exactly the word.

The car followed the normal flow of vehicles to the Southern Zone of the city, the most economically rich area of the capital. Old and modern buildings made a sharp contrast to the look of the wealthier neighborhoods of Ipanema and Leblon. Driving along the beachfront, it was already noticeable a movement. People were carrying flags and banners with the most varied slogans, some of them with vulgar words. The traffic got much worse and the street seemed to get smaller than it really was. Finally, the flow of vehicles slowed down considerably, but not because of the improved traffic. In fact, the street was blocked off for such a protest. That was the signal that they needed to get out of the car and walk to the Copacabana neighborhood.

More and more people showed up. Most of them had dyed hair, like blue and orange, short clothes, piercing and tattoos. Enzo wondered if Carnival had started earlier in the city. He wished it did. Although every day was Carnival before February. The shaven-headed woman took Enzo's arm and led him to a provisionally set stage. There were three completely different people on the stage. Technically, two women and one black man. But after yesterday's class, who knows. As it turned out, Enzo would really be the center of attention. All he wanted.

The protests began. Words against everyone who does not see the world as that group of people do and is against the ideological script that the group advocates was mentioned. And not in a friendly way. Leaders considered revolutionaries were mentioned with praise and joy, which was strange if you read any history book. At first, one of the non-gendered speakers started comparing data on the number of deaths of homosexuals and rich people. He then correlated them.

- The rich and privileged men live through the hunger and misery of our people! They don't need to hide from anyone! No peace for us, no peace for them and nobody.

Then it was the turn of the climate to be discussed. Apparently, companies are not doing enough to reduce global warming and the melting of the polar ice caps. Figures like the Swedish girl that the author has forgotten the name of were remembered as an example of fighting against the big oil and gas corporations. After all, everyone would rather drive a Prius to work than a Porsche. Just a guess.

- Damn, they are protesting it all! - Enzo remarked.

Finally it was Enzo's turn. There was no way out. Maybe if he started speaking at the end, he would get a little inspiration to say things that went completely against everything he believed in. At school you learn from an early age that there are men and women, boys and girls. Girls should be called by their name or "she", while boys are called by the opposite. Simple as a glass of water. Of course, not everything is a nuclear war. Blue was no longer just the color for boys, and pink is not necessarily a feminine color. And the Jeep Wrangler is not a gay man's car. However, modern times have brought somewhat curious cases, such as the risk of getting a person's pronoun wrong and being lynched.

- Samantha was the victim of yet another case of prejudice against trans people. Samantha, who is Enzo, was prevented from entering a women's restroom. He identifies as a woman and suffered discrimination.

- How absurd! These privileged rich men! They are in charge of everything.

- Let's fight fascism!

And how?

- By spilling the blood of our enemies!

A perfectly antifascist phrase. Can you imagine Mahatma Gandhi or Martin Luther King saying the same?

In a condo in Barra da Tijuca, Belgium turned on the TV and went to the kitchen to get the pot of popcorn she' d prepared for her and her boyfriend. Vini, who was lying in bed, was zapping the channels looking for something interesting to watch, but with no luck. After a while, Belgium returned from the kitchen with the popcorn and gave him a kiss.

- You look very beautiful. - Vini said, smiling.

- Oh, thank you. - Belgium was pleased.

That's when Belgium accidentally sat on the remote control - who hasn't? It turned out that the randomly chosen channel was the afternoon news network, which was broadcasting live footage of the protest.

- Oh shit, take that off. - Vini complained and stood up.

Belgium didn't want to hear it, but the journalist pointed out that the protest was about a woman named Samantha, who had suffered violence the day before. The camera started to film the speech of the person in question, while the journalist made comments relevant to the discussion without any bias - apparently. That' s when the camera focused on... Enzo for the first time, who was speaking. Belgium widened her beautiful green eyes in disbelief.

- Oh Lord. - said Belgium. - Vini, you gotta see this!

He returned to the room, lay down next to her, and began to stare at the TV. The words that came out of Enzo's mouth might have been lies, but the images were not.

- Hey, isn't that... - Belgium was confused, but knew what she was seeing.

Vini had to get closer to the TV screen to get confirmation.

- Yes, it looks like it is. - Vini shook his head.

- What is he doing there?

- The right question to ask is... How will he get out of there?

After all, Enzo needed a speech for yesterday. The rules were clear. The more you "woke", the better his odds of surviving the mob. What could he do? Well, a speech under those circumstances and quite specific required professional help. So he turned on his cell phone and went to the internet, the home of the idiots and the desperate. Unfortunately, Enzo's efforts seemed in vain, as his second favorite website, Wikihow, did not provide him much help.

- Oh, shit, how can they say they "specialize in solving problems large and small", if they can't solve my problem?

His second internet search gave him a little more hope. After watching a video, he was happy with what he found.

- Buzzfeed. The genius of Hannah Gadsby. It sounds good.

Enzo didn't need to listen to anything more than five minutes to get the material he needed for his speech. The old, traditional copy and paste that has saved so many college students from an empty life on the streets without their degree. And yes, after all, he did it. Several hours later, the neighborhood emptied. Enzo had to be one of the last to leave, when he sadly received an urgent call that his father living in Ireland had passed away. The woman with the shaved head consoled him and asked for his number. Cordially, Enzo wrote down the seven numbers on a piece of paper and vanished. The problem was that there were two more numbers missing.

Many kilometers away, looking at the big blue globe, a plate-shaped metal ship with two alien crew members hovered over the only planet with rational life in the universe. The two green crew members with tentacles were discussing the story just told. Their language was close to unique, a mixture of Croatian and Ukrainian, but without the accent.

- Tko je on?

- Kreten (An idiot).

- Što ćemo sada? (What shall we do now?)

- Raznijeti Zemlju, očito (Blow up the Earth, obvious).

Out of the spacecraft, a laser beam came out of the underside. The weaponry tilted and launched a single shot, which hit the state of California at first. The explosion turned the huge blue globe to cosmic dust in the infinite immensity of space as we know it.

(*) A penitentiary complex located in the Gericinó neighborhood in the West Zone of the city of Rio de Janeiro.