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New Game: construct a story around this picture:

The weaboo maids are attacking the frontlines of Euphoria Headquarters.

war on fetishes

How can we not forget the great Waifu War of 1954?

Demanding the same equal rights as husbandos, the waifus band together to launch a full scale military offensive all over the Weeaboo Theater. over millions became victims to the war autrocaty from both sides of the factions, with waifus shooting down husbandos in the nuts and otakus blowing up moe food supplies, starving the masses.

After 8 years of continuous conflict, a treaty was sign in tokyo that signify an end to the war, which gives equal rights to both waifus and husbandos. Known as the pantsu Convention, it finally ended the conflict.

It's the year 194X, The Maidens have launched their assault on their most dangerous foe: Uncleanliness.

they were an elite group of soldiers, the maid outfits were merely for the purpose of throwing off their enemies.

Judging by what looks like a Russian tank from World War Two, I'd say they were on their way to fight the Germans:

It's just a drawing someone made and put on the internet.

Boooooo

"I'm scared," said Sakura, her white stocking encased legs shaking like a pencil in the hands of a grade schooler trying to create an optical illusion.

"We all are," replied Hoshi, "but it's our duty."

"I don't understand though!" Sakura responded in a voice that was filled with fear. "Why are us maids going to war? Don't we have soldiers to do this?"

"I thought you remembered," Hoshi said trying to explain the situation, "that the entire male population of Japan was changed to women about four years ago by a crazy virus?"

"Well, yeah, everyone knows that…"

"Well," continued Hoshi, "when that happened, the entire army was comprised of men. I'm sure you know what that means. Anyway, many of those men were so caught up in their masculinity, that when they lost it all, they didn't know what else to do. They were out of a job, and more families were torn apart than you can shake a feather duster at. Many of these men thus went into servile work for the more powerful and, overall, more comfortable women. In fact…" Hoshi stopped.

"What?" asked Sakura,."What?"

Hoshi blushed and waved her hands. "Nothing! Nothing! It's not that important!" Sakura was still curious, but all she could do now was look down and hold her gun closer to her chest, well-endowed and dressed in black.

"But anyway," Hoshi continued, when the time for war came around again, the Japanese government had to get a new army. And since most of the old Army members had become maids, they set up the MEIDO program to reintroduce the veterans and introduce new members to the military.

"It worked like a charm. Maids are naturally diligent and will do whatever is needed. Combine that with the fact that most of them were looking for a new way to rekindle their old, masculine ways, and you are looking at some eager pawns. Us."

"But why don't they just get other men to do it? Don't we have allies? And sperm donors?"

"They can't. Ever since they introduced the policy making maid outfits the standard military uniform, no countries will take us seriously. There's a reason everyone calls us 'the Clean-Up Crew'. And as for sperm donors… well, you could do that… if you wanted a bunch of rugrats defending your country. Seriously, think about these things."

"Approaching the combat zone," an extremely girly voice stated from the front of the tank. It was girly because it came from a girl. Because Japan held no Ja-mans.

"Finally! Time to kick some ass." Hoshi was excited at the upcoming combat she was going to take part in. Sakura, on the other hand, made a high-pitched squeak, bracing herself for the inevitable glances at death and decay and destruction, Delaware, and many other de- things.

The tank stopped. Hoshi unscrewed the tank's hatch, climbed out with haste, and began to run off to fight the enemy.

"Wait!" cried Sakura as she peered out of the tank. She didn't want to see too much, but she knew she had to get out eventually. At the same time, she had a burning request for Hoshi. "Hoshi!" The requested soldier turned her head, caught off her guard. "You were going to say something before, but you changed your mind. In case neither of us survive, what was it you were going to say?"

The wind blew through Hoshi's brown hair as she looked at Sakura. The black bow sitting on her head used to symbolize her rank looked like kawaii little kitty ears. Nya~ :3. The wartorn backdrop of this image was littered with maid uniforms, both on the living and slain. gun smoke filled the air, and the sounds that are usually heard in war were heard. Overall, it was very dramatic. Probably.

"Well," Hoshi responded. She turned her head back around. "Let's just say…" She turned her head around yet again, The Exorcist-style. "I'm a veteran." Her head returned to its default position, and she jumped off the tank and ran toward all the violence that lay ahead. It took a while for it to sink in on Sakura, but when she got it, she looked down at her gun. She cried, but angrily, and ran off to follow her companion.

In the near or distant future, a fantastical machine is designed and built in the most top-secret of underground laboratories. Its function: to grab ahold of the basic fabric of space-time, matter and energy and twist it to the whims of the individual(s) who input them with the use of the various flips, switches, computerized question/answer forms and neurological scanning. Its purpose: to finally bring about total world piece and prosperity.
Unfortunately, through a series of unforeseen circumstances and wacky hijinks, it ends up in the hands of a hyper-obsessed weeaboo. Even more unfortunately, it also manages to be the single hyper-obsessed weeaboo who has doctorates in mathematics, physics, engineering and computer science, so he's able to figure out how it works. Thus, he uses it and warps reality into his demented fantasy.
This is a still from the first few seconds of Day 1, 0 A.W. The future of our species is uncertain, but this much is clear: we are in a world of shit.

"COME ON! STOP THE PERVERTS!"

Sakura managed to catch up with Hoshi, who by now had probably killed about ten soldiers. "Come get some, pansies!" Hoshi yelled as she shot her gun in every direction possible, including up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, B, A, and Start. She felt Sakura make a hard grasp on her shoulder, to which she responded with confusion. "Sakura! Get back! This is no place for a soldier as green as you!" She shot a couple more people while saying this.

"Why didn't you tell me before that you were… were…" Sakura was bubbling like a fountain and couldn't get any words out, also like a fountain. Because fountains don't talk.

"That I was a veteran? You never really asked." Hoshi reloaded her gun. "Besides, what's it matter now? We're both here, help stop the invasion."

"But we were such close friends! How could you not tell me something like that?"

"I just answered that," Hoshi answered. Looking around at Sakura for the first time, she noticed that the poor crying maid was holding her gun wrong. "Hey, tuts. You're holding your gun wrong."

Sakura stopped crying as much. "My… gun?"

"Yeah kid, you have to hold it like a broom. Like this." She turned to adjust it in Sakura's hands, but as she did, a quick, burning pain struck her left leg. Her eyes went small, stunned with pain. She fell over onto Sakura, who collapsed under the weight.

"Hoshi!" she screamed. "Hoshi! Don't die on me! Hoshi!"

"I got shot… in the leg…" She was wincing as she said this.

The smoke that filled the air had initially hid the enemy army from Sakura's sight, but now the culprit came into sight. A white uniform appeared, supported by long legs barely hidden by an extremely short skirt. From where Hoshi was lying, she could see this enemy's underpants. Blue and white stripes. Her favorite.

"Looks like another one down," said the foxy fuku-wearing vixen. "When will you Japanese learn that maid outfits are no match for sailor fuku?" The opponent looked down at Sakura, who was clearly a mess by now, what with having several emotional trains dropped on her. "And you," she stated, pointing her gun straight at Sakura's face, "Looks like you're my next confirmed kill." Sakura screamed in fear, covering her face with her arms. This was enough to spark some activity into Hoshi, who had, in the mean time, turned her gun around, and fired straight at the enemy soldier. The bullet went through her head, and she died instantly.

"Boom," said Hoshi with exhaustion. "Headshot."

"Thank you Hoshi!" Sakura tried giving her an impassioned hug, but since she was lying on her stomach on the ground, it came out more as Sakura putting a lot of pressure on the injured maid.

"Aah!" screamed Hoshi in shock. She vomited a bit of blood. "Don't do that! Just get me to a medic already!" Sakura, not being a complete idiot as you may think she is, removed her apron and wrapped it around the shot leg. She attempted to carry Hoshi on her shoulders, which had somewhat mixed results. "Just let me put my arm around your shoulder. I'm not completely injured."

"Sorry." Sakura apologized. "So why exactly are we fighting these guys?" she asked as the walked toward whatever medical facilities they were going to. Probably a field hospital.

Hoshi facepalmed with her one free hand. "Do you know anything about this war we're fighting?"

"My master never let me read the newspaper. And even if I could, I wouldn't be able to since it's all in Japanese."

"But we're Japanese! How can you not read it?"

"Well, we're speaking in English, aren't we?"

Hoshi's mind could not wrap around this logic, especially since she was injured and thus not able to think terribly straight, "Whatever. Anyway, the real reason we're fighting this war is because we got into a fight with some other country over whether maid outfits or sailor outfits are better. They say sailor outfits are better because there's versions for men and for women, but maids can only be women. And obviously this is wrong because maid outfits are just plain better, so we had to go to war with them. I thought you would have picked up on this from the briefs?"

"Briefs? I'm wearing a hipster!"

The field hospital came into view.

"WE MUST MAKE SEMPAI NOTICE US NO MATTER WHAT!"

They are a group of magical girls kind of like the Sailor Scouts but with guns.

"OK, first off," said Hoshi, who was still injured because they hadn't reached the field hospital yet, "You know that's not what I meant. Secondly, I'm pretty sure that they're called 'hipsters', not just a singular 'hipster.'"

"No, I meant a hipster!" exclaimed Sakura, "Listen!" She lifted up her short skirt, revealing her undergarments. Not only were they resting on her hips, but they were also sporting a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. They lacked lenses, of course.

"I was into Animal Collective before they were cool," said the panties in a dull voice.

They finally reached the field hospital, comprised mostly of some tables covered in medical equipment beneath some tents, though the tents of course smelled of fresh linens. This was probably because they were fresh linens, plentiful from the pre-war times of the maids.

"Hello!" said a chipper voice from beyond where they were. It came from a spectacle-donning maid; these were real glasses, unlike Sakura's underpants. Her hair was pink, and her maid uniform was white rather than black to signify her role as a medical assistant. "What seems to be the problem today?"

"I'm not totally sure," answered Sakura, "but my friend here, I think she's having trouble walking. She might have a sprain."

"I WAS SHOT YOU BAKA!!!!!!!!" angrily exclaimed Hoshi, who had been waiting for some time to be treated and did not have time for such nonsense. "I TOLD YOU WHEN IT HAPPENED, GODKUSO!!!! YOU PUT YOUR APRON ON THE WOUND REMEMBER!!!" The nurse was clearly startled from this outburst.

"Well," started the nurse, "I guess that is a problem. Thankfully we haven't had any real bad cases lately, so you won't have to wait long. Follow me." She turned and nodded the soldiers on. "My name is Akane, by the way." She led them to a waiting room sort of area comprised of a couple folding chairs and a table littered with magazines. "We'll get to you shortly, just wait a bit." She helped Sakura put Hoshi in one of the chairs and went off to get a doctor.

"Oh hell yes!" Hoshi had perked up upon seeing something in the magazines and grabbed what she desired. "I haven't read one of these in ages!" She held the magazine up sideways and let the centerfold fall out. She laughed a bit. Sakura had no idea what Hoshi was looking at, but eventually she caught a title: Playshonen. Because it's Japan.

"You know, " started Sakura, "A lot of the times it's men who read those magazines…"

Hoshi looked over from her softcore pornudity. "Yeah, so? Maybe I swing that way."

"Well it's just that… I know you said you were a veteran, and I know that really could have meant one thing: that you had been a man before that virus happened, and I was wondering…"

"Woah miss." Hoshi became defensive, slamming the magazine down. "Put a trigger warning on that."

"I'm sorry!" apologized Sakura in an over the top fashion. "I just wanted to know what you were like before then!" She bowed a couple times in regret.

Hoshi continued a stern look for a few more seconds, which then changed into a sly smile. "Ehh, I'm just fooling with you. You want to know what I was like before all this crazy crap happened?"

"Storytime!" shouted Sakura in a way that made everyone in the field hospital look at her funny. She didn't notice though, and happily chibified herself into leaning on Hoshi's shoulder.

"Well," started Hoshi, "Back in the day, my name was Shinji Ikari."

"You mean like that wimpy kid from that cartoon? That's so cool!"

"Cool? I got made fun of because of it! In high school, the other kids used to tell me things like 'Get in the freakin' robot Shinji!' and 'What are you, stupid?' And at my graduation, everyone kept telling me 'Congratulations!' So I decided, if I didn't want to be picked on for having a funny name, then I would join the army. There's a country song about that, right?"

"Who listens to country? We live in Japan!"

"That's not the point. Anyway, I joined the army. Snd everything was going ok, but then H-Cross hit. You know, the virus. It was like something out of a porn comic. Almost overnight, all the males in Japan had become women, and doctors didn't know what to do. Everyone but the very best got kicked out of the army because the government couldn't handle a military full of women. I tried going home to my family, but even though I needed help, they wouldn't support me. 'This can't be my son!' my father said, himself a woman now too. 'My son, he was handsome and in the military. But now he is a shame! Get out!'

"Having nowhere to go, I ended up in a shelter for a while. Those were dark times in my life. But I had heard from some of my army buds that there were plenty of housekeeping jobs open, and I figured it wouldn't hurt to apply. The woman in charge, my lady, had felt bad for me and let me work for her. She gave me shelter and pay, and it was smooth sailing for a while."

Akane came over. "i think we're ready to take you in now," she said to Hoshi.

"Looks like I'll have to finish the story later," Hoshi told Sakura. Akane came over, and she, along with Sakura, helped her over to an operating table-type thing.

"So." Another maid, also dressed in white, but in more medically appropriate garb, came over to the table. "You got shot in the leg. Those Popeyes out there just don't seem to give up." She took the apron off of Hoshi's leg. "This dressing is outstanding! Who made it?"

Sakura was caught off-guard. "Th-that would be me."

"It's outstanding," the doctor said. "You could be a nurse for us with work like this!"

"Well to be honest," said Sakura, attempting to act modestly, "A lot of the time peopple call me stupid, but no one ever seems to hate my medical work. I don't quite get it."

"Well you could be the typical idiot savant," chuckled the doctor.

"Hey!" shouted Hoshi. "I'm still bleeding here! Just get this over with."

The doctor probed the wound a bit. "The bullet's completely shattered your leg. I'm afraid…" She couldn't continue without slight hesitation. "I'm afraid we're going to have to amputate it."