Channel 1 filled the air of Rio, for the 2020 Olympic Games were on and the parade of nations was taking shape. Some things would never change - the world still loved to show America who ruled the world of sports. Years of O'Reilly burgers and couch potato indolence had taken their toll and America, while still excelling, was not the dominant force it used to be. They still had the upper hand in the glamour sports and the team events, but had gone straight downhill in terms of endurance sports such as running, especially long distances. Regardless, the Olympics were still a major event for Britney. 24/7, live and on tape, all 10 channels showed the Olympics. Every American medal was broadcast on a repeating loop on Channel 1 as a constant reminder of American dominance. All the events were shown live on the other 9 channels non-stop, right down to the archery contest. American wins were repeated and glorified, while losses were hidden- but only if the loser was an underdog. If the loser was a favorite, the broadcasters cried foul and screamed for a 2nd gold medal from the IOC. The litany had become so constant after three Olympiads under Britney that a popular, but unproven, urban legend in Europe claimed that the IOC had pyrite medals to give to American athletes to make them think they won so they wouldn't cry foul and make a mess. The Olympics had always been seen as a vehicle for national pride and fame since the days of the East German doping camps. Like most dictators, Britney saw this and took full advantage. This year there was a new flag bearer, one who they believed would be the biggest sweetheart American champion for America to fall in love with. Britney's flag bearer was always male lest women get the idea they could work out of the house, and normally a baseball player to take advantage of America's fanaticism for the sport. 2020 was no different, as it was Peter Meyer, the 1st overall pick in the MLB draft, a young and lanky pitcher who could crank the ball over 100mph. About three rows back, marching with the track team in her red, white and blue jacket with everyone else was a blonde who looked like a brunette compared to the bright yellow hues radiating from everyone around her. She giggled like the rest of them, but there was something that showed everyone that she was different.

"And there goes Andrea Hoffman, the rookie distance runner who escaped the borderline madness of Fort Lee to be here tonight," said one of the Channel 1 announcers with a smile of pride in his Britney-operated voice, making her into a human interest story to underline that she was female first, athlete second.

Andrea was the best distance runner America had ever seen- male or female, pre- or post-Britney. Indeed, they hadn't seen such a specimen of endurance since cancer warped the body of Lance Armstrong into the perfect cycling machine. She was the fastest, most graceful runner they'd ever seen, so peaceful and focused in her flight, at only 17 the American record holder in the marathon.

She greeted her teammates with the same giggle and smile that any air-headed American teen would. Her hair shone just as blonde as everyone else's, albeit without those nasty brown roots showing. She spent her free time staring at the television, eyes glassy at the figures on channel 1. Track wouldn't start for a whole week in the Olympics so she toured the city and other venues with her teammates. That was where she met Peter, after he pitched a perfect game in the baseball team's first game, against Japan, the only other real competitor in the field. She sighed longingly at his motion, the perfect windup, the strong upper body, the high leg kick and the dominant fastball. She could feel herself relaxing under the influence of those romantic feelings, and louder than ever before she heard the whispers: "He's perfect! Now all you have to do is be perfect for him." She trained harder than she ever did, though that wouldn't be saying very much; she was known for not being the best at starting her practices, goofing off during her stretching, showing up late, giggling all the time, even to the point where she would have to be reminded to tie her shoes. But everyone knew that once she got a few yards under her she was all business and by the end of the run she would be a different woman - cold, calculated, rough around the edges but a mean competitor.

In the Olympic Village she first met some of her competitors, and laughed at them. There was Heidi Muller, the 2 time gold medallist from 2016 in marathon and 10k. She came with her wife (at least under German law) Bridget, a miler. The openly lesbian couple would often try to jar their American opponents with open expressions of their sexuality to the Americans' shocked faces. Both were naturally blonde; Bridget looked almost like a Channel 1 girl in her tight jeans and t-shirt, while Heidi had short hair and was wearing her warm up outfit. They kissed each other right in front of Andrea, Bridget squeezing her wife's butt with one hand while flipping off Andrea with her left hand, making sure that the American runner could see the ring her wife had given her.

They were surprised that this did not seem to instantly make Andrea fall over and vomit on their shoes, take a swing at them, faint, or curse them out. They first spoke in German to lay out their strategy. "Why not? If she fought back we'd prove our point, and if it turns out she's realizing she's one of us, we haven't had a threesome since the world championships!" Bridget said and Andrea noticed Heidi blushing.

"Well, I'd hope you'd be embarrassed, kissing in public like that, that's what the rooms are for," Andrea said, but the matter-of-fact tone of her voice would have been the same if Bridget were Heidi's husband. She walked into the room where her teammates were blaring the television and that was when she grew sick, her breath grew short and her skin grew pale. "Those Germans, they are sick, there were two women and I think they were undressing each other, and, and, they looked like they wanted me in on it! My God, what is wrong with them?"

Alicia Moore, their team captain by dint of being the only returning veteran, albeit now under her married name, looked at Andrea. "Oh dear, those fucking Muller dykes snuck in here again. You're lucky you weren't in London in 2016- they were parading around in the sacred white gowns! I should have killed them back then. Don't worry, kid, the reason Heidi is a dyke is because she doesn't have the stamina to fall in love with a man, let alone finish a marathon." Andrea giggled and shortly thereafter she grew accustomed to the slurs and hatred that filled the American wing. That night she had a dream that she never had before, an American dream. She dreamt of a world where all dykes and faggots were dead and she wouldn't have to run anymore. Instead, she would just be there for her gift from God, Peter and his major league salary. And her children would grow up to be better athletes than either of them, her daughter wearing the number 9 jersey in the Olympics, her son becoming a better pitcher than his father. Then she woke up in a cold sweat, her New York soul not letting herself be seduced overnight by Britney. She put her jacket on and took a walk down the hall, but the whispers followed her, trying to lull her back to sleep and her dream of picket fence glory. Scarier still, she was more out of step when she was Andréa than when she was Andrea, and she was scared. The voices want me to win, she thought, but winning and running was all she knew to keep her free. And now she would have to run faster because Britney was catching up.

It was the day of the marathon, and Andrea was more focused than ever in starting the race.

"Look at Hoffman, a pure and natural talent. Only a dope would think that she could lose this race with God behind her."

"And Jim, only a doper could beat her. Look at that dyke from Germany, Muller! I'd disqualify her! Man, I tell you, I can't tell if that really is a woman from up here! It looks more like a man who can't cut it dressed like a woman to get easier competition, that's all that dyke looks like to me, Jim!" said the two channel 1 drones calling the race.

Andrea readied herself at the starting line. "Don't be fooled," Heidi said behind her in a clear English she forced on herself so she could better rattle the Americans. "If I run behind you, it's not because you're better, it's because I want to take in the splendor of your tight ass!"

Half of Andrea got a lump in her throat and a tear in her eye out of fear that that Heidi might try to rape her after the race, insatiable pervert that she was. The other half fought hard to reassert her grip on reality. She's just trying to make you stumble. You know lesbians aren't the perverts that she wants you to believe that they are! Now go on and beat her with pride and earn her respect. She's a legendary runner and nothing to fool with! she thought to herself. The twitching in her leg, though, suggested an undying rage and desire to trip Heidi at the starting line.

As the gun sounded Andrea got off to the best start of her life. If anything, people were concerned that she was pushing too hard and would wear herself out. Yan Lin from China, nicknamed the electric bunny for her short size but incredible endurance, settled into her pace in 2nd, while Heidi was not giving in to the grueling pace and settled into the main pack to await her move.

"Well, now, I told you the dyke couldn't take a man because she had no staying power," a voice whispered to Andrea. "Keep it up and dust off that commie gook while you're at it."

Andrea kept her focus and ran her patented pace, each mile faster than the last. As she did this she looked for familiarity but only found the repetition of Britney, and the gigantic statue of Jesus that was around for decades before Britney. That must be where the whispers live in Brazil, she thought. But she ran faster and the Andréa she knew and loved returned and ran harder, but to her shock Heidi had made her move. "It's easy to catch up when I have something beautiful to run to!" she thought she heard Heidi yell as she bore down on her. Yan Lin also kept up the pace, which was a good two minutes faster than the world record, as they reached the 22nd mile. "Never look back," Andréa reminded herself. Yet the whispers still wanted her to look back; "Watch out for the evil gook and dyke behind you!" they warned her. Andréa picked up the pace and tried to wear out her competition, and as was normally the case her form improved as her opponents wore out. While the sweat-soaked opponents faded, Andréa looked like she was just out on a jog in the morning. She could almost see Lady Liberty as she neared the finish line, but to her amazement it was the green beacon she always worked this hard to avoid. She almost fell over in shock as she crossed the finish line but instead she felt the whispers holding her up in glory. "You did it! You are America! America is you! Strong, unyielding and never giving up," she heard them say. As the flag draped her shoulders and the gold medal adorned her neck she looked comforted and soothed, as if the two Andreas had merged. And as Heidi reached out to shake her hand in sportsmanship, half of Andrea wanted to shake it, the other half was ready to kill her and she struggled as she shook her hand. Andrea never felt like this before, never the hate, or the violence or...

He stood at the doorway to the American wing, the sweet smell of fresh cut grass and horsehide clinging to him, his jacket spotless, his blondish brown hair swept back. She looked at him and was captivated, the whispers telling her that he was the one who would love her, protect her, support her, and give her the greatest gift God could give a woman. Peter spoke to her softly. "What a race! A new world record! I'm so proud of you!"

"Thanks!" she replied with a girlish smile and a giggle. Nothing else mattered to her. She went out with him and it seemed like she had known him forever. For the next 4 days she was with him all the time, going to his games, and when the baseball team won the gold medal it was like her gold medal didn't matter. He was what was important, her true victory. She went back to her room and saw Heidi in the hall. She said something in German to her and Andrea almost slammed her against the wall. "HA! I knew you were nothing but an American clone!" Heidi replied. "You will never win again, you know. See you in the ten thousand!"

And so it came time for the 10K, but she was not interested in running anymore. She found her running's true purpose and reward and she was ready to move to California with him and go to school with him at Berkley to be his and grow into his wife like a good girl. She received his baseball gold medal as a token of their love and it was that gold medal she wore at public appearances. But the 10K came, where she was an overwhelming favorite; her style favored the track more than cross country as her opponents could see her pace getting faster with each and every lap. She was known to lap the field back in high school.

"And another world record gets set to be liberated by American Andrea Hoffman as we get ready for the women's 10,000 meters... Next!" the announcers shouted.

By this point Andrea had become a total airhead. "Like, he's so strong, he can throw 100 easy, and I believe that's what he calls a change-up," she told her teammate with a giggle.

"So what's his fastball like?" her teammate replied.

"I dunno, I don't like to go that fast, I'm no sprinter," Andrea said with a wink.

As the runners milled around the area, Andrea stared into the distance at him and almost missed the call to the line.

"Your shoe's untied," Heidi said with a smirk.

"Oh God! When will dykes like you learn that you are not normal and are the children of the devil! When will you die and go to hell already! You are still trying to transpose the devil's lust onto me! You damn pervert!" Andrea screamed.

"And it looks like the dyke has finally burst and Andrea is showing her the way of the lord before the start," the announcers rationalized in the booth.

Andrea looked down and tied her shoe. Her mind cramped slightly but then she saw Peter in the stands. Her feelings were soothed, and a dreamy smile came onto her face. I have a life just for him. I don't need running, I have Peter and I have Jesus, she thought as she took the line. But first, to show the dyke that you can't outrun the Lord!

As the gun sounded Andrea stumbled out and hung in the back as Heidi took the early lead with her wife Bridget entered as the rabbit.

"Look at that cheat, entering her dyke companion as a phony racer to set her own pace, how dumb is that, I can't believe they allow that!" the commentators cried.

Andrea gained her focus, but had fallen well behind and by the halfway point was in danger of going a lap down to Heidi.

She then had a realization: she was made to run. With that in mind, she ran as hard as she ever had in her life.

"HERE COMES HOFFMAN! She just set the fastest lap and is moving back through the pack. She's now up to 10th!"

She moved up, each lap getting faster and faster, Andréa making one last attempt to save herself. With 5 laps to go she bore down on Heidi.

"Hoffman now in 2nd with 5 laps to go, Lin right behind in 3rd."

Andréa made her move and blew past Heidi, but then the whispers came stronger than ever.

"That's my girl, kill those dykes and chinks, bring it home for your love!"

She ran harder but as the lead grew she realized that it was winning that would keep her imprisoned.

Two laps to go.

She slacked off. The whispers screamed but the focused Andréa ran back and Heidi closed in.

Bell Lap and it was a three-way dead heat.

"Lin, Hoffman, and Muller neck and neck and neck as they go into the final turn, heading down the stretch, HOFFMAN FALLS! THAT DYKE TRIPPED HER! THIS IS AN OUTRAGE, THIS IS AN OUTRAGE, 2ND GOLD MEDAL! 2ND GOLD MEDAL!" the announcers rail on as Andréa dove to the ground, letting Heidi and Yan Lin pass. She then got up, prouder than ever, faster than ever, crossing the line just in time for bronze.

But she kept running.

"Look at Hoffman, she knows she was cheated and she's taking a victory lap for what she earned."

Andréa kept running; the stadium was not enough- too many people, too many voices- so she ran out the exit, not even stopping for her bronze. She ran on past the Village, past the tourists and the fans. Past the venues, up, up, up, the hardest climb of her life, a sheer mountain but she managed. She had to. This was what she needed to see. She reached the summit and stared the source of her pain in the face: the giant statue of Jesus, staring blankly at her as she screamed at him, "What good are you, if all you do is let people believe lies?" She hadn't felt hate like this either, but this time it felt good. She returned to the Village. She got some weird looks, but they mistook her frustrated expression for anger over the results of the race. Her coach pulled her aside and said, "We're going to the IOC. Those two goons should be disqualified. You were tripped! But for now, here's your bronze for 3rd."

That night Andréa heard screaming in the hallway and sure enough three of Peter's baseball teammates were beating Heidi and she reacted in a way that would alarm no one but was a complete change of character. "Jesus said 'may he who has no sin cast the first stone.'" The baseball players agreed and relented and when she was sure they were gone she helped Heidi up and congragulated her on her victory and apologized for her countrymate's actions.

"Maybe if they brought their sticks, they may have hurt me! Those fat wimps couldn't hurt me if they wanted to! Don't worry about me, I've seen worse." Heidi replied coldly.

"I can never understand my country, but you made me understand me, who I am, someone who sees through lies and finds truth. May you and your wife be proud and prosper."

Heidi looked at her dumbfounded, a speech like that that isnt followed by some sort of pass? She knew her sincerity and she smiled and took the sealed envlope Andrea was carrying.

Andrea looked at the medals she earned and then took the bronze and framed it, her greatest source of pride and accomplishment. She kept one of the two golds she was given, but the fate of the other remained a mystery. Some claimed that she gave it back to Peter; others thought that he let her keep it, knowing she would return to him after school, that she just didn't want to give up a year of her career by transferring. Some spread rumors that she was lesbian, but Peter quickly put a stop to that one. No one in America would ever find out she moved to New York and transferred to St. John's, the place for those just breaking out.

But somewhere in Germany, in a lesbian bar deep in Berlin, a gold medal was given a place of honor above the bar, the only baseball medal ever to call Germany home.

As for Andréa, people see her all the time on the perfect circle she found so long ago. Why is unknown, but some say she still has to run from Britney. Others say she runs to spite her. But she always looks at the statue and sees Lady Liberty in her steel glory. And to her that means more than any gold medal she ever won.