I am writing this from [REDACTED], and to protect my safety, I have disclosed my last known location to [REDACTED]. I am a fugitive on the run from the fascists. Stop looking at Russia, nope, not North Korea either. It’s that hoard of angry blonde women all wearing cardigans and red scarves wielding Stanley cups — The Swifties.

Ominous, right? Thankfully, I had a secure “Getaway Car” to take me to said safe house. Now that I am here, I’m going to expose the fascists — whoops, I mean Swifties and their devious plan. Their supreme leader, Taylor Alison Swift, dons sparkly bodysuits to distract you from the fascist manifesto embedded in her music. But we’re not here to talk about the authoritarian puppet master. We’re here to talk about the bloodthirsty proletariats.

I am going to take a second to empathize with the feral hoard that has been sent to assassinate me. I understand your devotion to Taylor. I myself am a devout member of the Church of Lana Del Rey. I worship on the daily and am a good practicing Lana stan, but would I threaten someone just because they don’t like her? Yes.

But no one is scarier than a Swiftie who just heard you say you like a Jake Gyllenhaal movie. They morph into a werewolf and condemn you to hell as a misogynist and a traitor to women. I swear you can hear their bones breaking and clothes tearing in the process as they stand in front of you as a seven foot beast.

Or when you say Little Big Town did a better rendition of “Better Man.” They can unhinge their jaws, like snakes, and swallow you whole. I know what that’s like “All Too Well.” It happened to a classmate of mine. There was nothing left but her scarf. Ironic.

I interviewed her from her new home in the monster’s stomach. In response to my question, “Do you still like Donnie Darko, and Little Big Town?” Her response was muffled, so I’m doing some loose translation. “Help me, it’s dark, it smells like Wonderstruck perfume in here.”

I think she learned her lesson. No free speech in front of Swifties.

Speaking of free speech, Swifties love to forcibly oppress those who don’t share the same rigid opinions as them. A trademark sign of fascism. Like I mentioned above, they morph into an otherworldly being or throw you right into a Siberian Gulag. Dealer’s choice.

As to avoid the Gulag or a trip through a Wonderstruck smelling small intestine, I have gone into hiding. I mean, I like “Ivy” and all of the songs on the Debut album. But, I have the Debut CD with her feet on it and the homophobic version of “Picture to Burn” held hostage. Spare me or your precious relic becomes the next thing to burn…

Actually, you know what, no, I’m tired of begging and empty threats. I’m gonna say it. I don’t like Taylor Swift. It’s not because of her music or millennial fashion choices or even that terrible bob she had in 2016. It’s because of the absolutely psychotic fans.

If Swifties weren’t as violent when it comes to defending Taylor’s honor (She’s a 33 year old billionaire, does she really need teenagers defending her?) I would like her, maybe even love her.

I know people who like Taylor, in a normal capacity, who’ve said they like Lana for the same reasons. I believe I can find it in my heart to enjoy Taylor’s music here and there, but the Swifties are hunting me nonetheless. You’d think as fascists they’d use traditional methods like brainwashing us, controlling the railway that goes through College Station or even minting Taylor’s Version money in order to coerce non-fascists to the “Lavender Haze” light.

Instead, they settle for Irritable Bowel Syndrome, or IBS, and icy imprisonment. Hey, IBS is no joke, they’re dedicated to their cruel and unusual methods of suppression.

So here I write in a bunker six-feet underground. Fearing for my life. Oh God, I can hear them coming. Bones cracking, clothes tearing, jaws unhinging … all because of this article. When my remains surface, bury me with my Lana Del Rey Vinyl collection. Goodbye world.

“Goodbye, Goodbye, Goodbye. You were bigger than the whole sky …”

Maddie McMurrough is an agricultural communications and journalism junior and opinion writer for The Battalion.