Hilton is so inspired by the success of Jim’s clampdown on the cocksuckers, that he starts daydreaming about possibilities surrounding the upcoming Ten Milliohm Man March.

One night he is watching a news magazine segment about the impending event. A young blonde newswoman is interviewing a middle aged Negro man, who is saying,

“Our goal is to enlist government support for the Next-door Neighbor Initiative. We want total integration in every town in America, so that all local percentages will exactly mirror national percentages for all races.

“But won’t that involve a lot of coercive relocation and violence?

“Yes, of course. Whatever it takes!”

The interviewer looks dismayed.

Hilton watches the entire segment, noting the pompous angry tone of unwarranted blaming and unearned entitlement.

August 2, 2026

Extrapolating from the fact that the original Million Man March, according to two different estimates, had from 400,000 to 837,000 actual participants, Hilton decides that 8,500,000 will be a safe minimum target estimate for today’s numbers. If there are a few survivors, they will give the event free publicity forever.

He begins to read, and decides that, since the destination venue is a deep bowl, namely the Altman Mega Stadium in the Nevada Desert, he will use heavy poison gas delivered by helicopter. This will take a good pilot with nothing to lose. Hilton writes an unusual ad:

“Seeking helicopter pilot with little time left, who wishes to secure a future for the children. Best to have strong Libertarian Nationalist leanings.”

He gets this message to a great many appropriate destinations using social media.

While the ad is working, Hilton addresses the technical factors. It turns out that the standard television news copter, that his pilot will requisition at the last minute, has just the right size crosspieces in the right places, and will need no modification. This is good, because the time factor will not have it otherwise. The canisters can be attached quickly with strong spring loaded clamps, using a control line that can be taken in through the copter door jam. The poison gas has already been donated by the government, via a misappropriated delivery intended for a California penitentiary.

Hopefully the pilot can take the copter, make the run, and return to the escape point before anyone figures out what’s going on. He will, however, carry a pistol just in case. Hilton will drive the rental getaway car, and have an automatic rifle under a blanket in the back seat.

The ad works very well. Within five weeks Hilton has his man, a retired Air Force pilot named Burgess Crowell, who agrees to do the job without pay just for the future of mankind.

September 8, 2026

Hilton and Burgess are sitting in the shade at an outdoor picnic table eating giant deluxe hamburgers as they talk.

“Burgess, I sure appreciate that I was able to find you for this. It’s a pity to have to do such a massive thing, but we know the alternative.”

Burgess smiles “Don’t worry. When things finally get straightened out, there will still be enough displaced Africans left to do their forced neighbor routine back home among their more genteel kinsmen reluctant to listen to “Motherfucker” every other word.

September 21. 2026

Getting the copter, and the quick set-up near the edge or the desert with Hilton, goes very smoothly.

Now, as Burgess approaches in the dry desert air, he can see the colossal stadium looming massively to his south.

“Unbelievable! I hope I have enough gas. With that many jokers in one place, what could be used is just one match to ignite the alcohol fumes and blow them all to Hell.”

Burgess notices four news copters from competing TV stations. He and Hilton worked out a thin plan for this, but still he thinks,

“I wish I had some small heat-seeking missiles, so I could send those controlled media shitheel newshounds a flash update.”

At the stadium, Burgess comes in low. Starting at north, he activates the tank flow, then slowly traces a circle twenty feet in from the outer edge of seating clockwise back to north, then a triangle inscribed within the circle, first to the southwest, then due east, then back to north. Appropriately, this configuration is an old civil defense symbol. As the marchers begin to collapse, he heads back to rendezvous with Hilton. This is the part that worries him most. Two news copters are following close behind.

On the ground, Hilton is waiting, and the coast below s clear. Burgess sets the copter down gently, jumps out, runs to the car, and the two men speed away with the news copters in close pursuit. The edge of town is only one half mile away. They pull into a parking garage next to a golf driving range. Burgess has changed his shirt and removed his cap. They leave the car, and exit from different doors on foot, Hilton with his rifle in a bag of golf clubs. Only by luck, and artful dodging under awnings, do the news copters miss seeing them. The two heroes just barely make it, because police cars are already converging on the garage.

As planned, they wait a week, and then meet for dinner, this time Prime Rib with little spuds and spinach. They discuss possible future adventures. In a far corner of the restaurant, FBI Special Agent Coluvis is watching with a very satisfied patriotic look on his face, as he enjoys the baked stuffed shrimp.