September is the most popular month for both newborns and new storms.

In that regard, Earl is nothing short of surprising. He arrives out of the warm Atlantic womb as the fifth storm of the 2022 hurricane season. Like his predecessors of past years, the baleful boy is expected to turn into a big powerful force of nature capable of causing Category 4 chaos. However, at the moment, Earl is a tropical storm in earnest need of strength and experience. Lucky for him, he's on the right path to getting more powerful in a popular destination for all potentially destructive hurricanes.

"Where else do I wanna test my might?" Earl wanders along the rim of the Caribbean with heavy rain clouds swirling around him. From the left peripheral of his eyes, he spots an island much larger than the ones that make up the Northern Leeward Islands.

"¡Finalmente! I finally fixed the roof of my house!" Puerto Rico wipes away sweat from his forehead, smiling proudly for accomplishing a task that has taken him a lot longer than normal to fix. "Of course," he concedes with a tired chuckle, "there's still a lot of things damaged by Hurricane Maria in need of repair. I also can't forget about my enormous debt and the eternal existential nightmare of being a forgotten territory. B-But for today, I'm going to treat myself to a piña colada and pretend everything is fine in the world!" He breaks into laughter until the skies above his home darken and start drenching him with rain. Without warning, a bolt of lightning strikes a nearby palm tree, deafening his ears and scaring the caca out of him. "¡Dios mío (Oh God)! Holy shit! I'm too beautiful to die today!" He hurries down the ladder, seeking safety underneath the newly constructed roof of his house.

"How did he escape that?" Earl blinks his eyes twice, gawking at his unscathed target for escaping from his tropical thunderstorm. "N-No matter. I can hit him again." He shakes off his nerves and gathers electrons from the stormy atmosphere to summon another lightning bolt in his hands. His evil intention is to strike the island again when instead he's suddenly struck by a coughing fit. The bewildered storm loses his balance and his bolt, unable to apprehend the sudden weakening of his windpipes. "Cough! Cough! What is wrong with me? Why do I feel out of breath? I've only hit a few islands."

"Sounds like you're suffering from dry air entrainment." A smug young girl personifying another tropical storm shows up beside him, amused to see her counterpart struggle to maintain himself in the area's moderately dry airflow.

"How come you're not affected?" Earl questions with an annoyed glare.

She giggles, "I'm not affected because I'm Fiona!" She gives a wink and a twirl. "No way I'm letting some dry air slow me down and stress me out. It won't stop me from becoming big and strong. Just watch. I'll show you what it takes to become a hurricane." The tropical storm flies on over to the Isle of Enchantment, making a mischievous smile that strikes fear into the eyes of mortals who are taken back by her 85 mph (140 km/h) winds. Consequently, her presence causes widespread power outages, leaving Puerto Rico in the darkness of torrential rain.

"Oh Dios mío..." Puerto Rico holds his breath, sitting on a plastic-covered couch with a flashlight clasped tightly in his hands. "No need to panic yet. This isn't a major hurricane, so I should be fine—"

"YIPPEE-KI-YAY!" A preteen girl crashes through his roof, immediately flooding his living room upon landing near him. "Look at me! I'm officially a Category 1 hurricane!" Fiona whirls around happily, showing off her recent growth.

"Nooooo! Not again! I just fixed my roof!" Puerto Rico wails.

While Fiona is having fun terrorizing the Caribbean, Earl watches her enviously from the sidelines, unable to push through the westerly wind shear and overcome his asthma-like affliction associated with the dry atmosphere. "No fair. I was here first." He pouts, wiping frustrated tears from his eyes.

"¡Vete (Go away)! You've overstayed your welcome!" Dominican Republic waves his baseball bat at the hurricane, unable to hurt or faze her in the slightest.

Fiona giggles in amusement. "Gracias (Thanks) for having me! Sorry for the mess in Boca de Yuma! Hope you can forgive me!" She waves goodbye and flies away. All the while, she notices her fellow cyclone move northward toward the Atlantic. "Hey, Earl! Where are you going?"

"Away from here!" Earl sniffles and huffs.

"Oh, okay. I'll follow you."

"What?! Don't be a copycat! You can't take the same path as me!"

"Why not? Afraid of becoming an extratropical disappointment?" Fiona teases.

"N-No way! I'm not letting you outclass me like what happened earlier!"

"LOL. That's cute. I already have my own Wikipedia page, and I'm about to level up to a Category 2 hurricane."

"S-Shut up!" Earl storms off. "Stay away from me! I hate you! I hate you so much!"

☆☆☆☆☆

Though it may not sound like an intimidating name, at the moment, Ian has quite literally taken the American people by storm.

Personifying the cyclone is an impish young man who has developed tremendously since his days as a tropical storm in the Caribbean Sea. He takes glee in the peak of his powers as a Category 4 hurricane, making a dramatic entrance upon landing in the southwestern region of the Floridian Peninsula. Multiple cars are overturned. Windows of unboarded businesses are shattered. Trees as tall as residential homes are toppled into said residential homes. Ian makes easy work knocking down buildings and utilities with winds maxing up to 155 mph (250 km/h). Widespread power outages cause alarm among millions of Floridians forced to stay put while the storm passes through the area. Unfortunately, that isn't the extent of their fears. Swirling stormy skies surrounding Ian send down over 30 inches (76.2 cm) of heavy rainfall to parts of the region, overwhelming drainage systems and turning streets into channels. For many residents situated along the coast, the most horrific sight is the 6-foot-tall (1.8 m) tsunami-like storm surge taking less than two hours to completely overtake everything in its wake. Survivors who are trapped by the murky floodwaters must cope for many exhausting hours, possibly days, for a miracle to somehow make its way to them. All the while Hurricane Ian continues to cause havoc and make the lives of everyone around him unfortunate.

"Look at me! I'm so hot right now!" Ian goes live on TikTok, recording himself and the floating piles of debris on an Apple iPhone 14 Pro he looted from a nearby store. "Wanna see Venice underwater? How about I show you the causeway I demolished and the thousands of people stranded on Sanibel? I can also check out Disney World in Orlando—"

A bullet shoots the latest smartphone out of his hands, putting a premature end to his live stream.

Ian has heard a lot of interesting stories about the region being populated by weirdos, so he isn't the least surprised to encounter one of them on the stormy streets. The weird woman in question stands tall on the bow of a yacht floating in the floodwaters, wearing crocodile green crocs, black gym shorts, a camo bikini top, a black-and-orange windbreaker worn over her shoulders like a superhero cape, black leather gloves holding a semi-automatic pistol, amber-tinted goggles over her eyes, and a black baseball cap printed with a small caption underneath a picture of an alligator: FUCK AROUND AND FIND OUT. For sure, she isn't a first responder, nor is she part of a search-and-rescue team. She's just your typical Florida Woman—aka a fucking dumbass who has no business being outside in the middle of a life-threatening storm. The gall of this crazy lady quite honestly offends Ian, knowing how lucky she is to be in the calm center of his storm.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?"

She smirks, "I'm Florida, duh. What's your name?"

He scoffs, "Do you live under a rock? I'm Ian."

"Like Ian my dick! OOOOOH!" Florida hits him with a dab and a little dance.

He thunders, "Fuck you! I am to be feared, not mocked!"

"Fuck you, dude! You're fucking up my house!" She fires her gun at his head, having no effect on him.

Seething with rage, Ian breathes, "Do you not understand the danger of defying my presence?" With the gesture of his hand, he summons a powerful gust and launches a large tree branch at her.

"Same," Florida grunts, taking the hit while clinging tightly to the boat's railing. Learning nothing from earlier, she fires her gun multiple times at the hurricane. This time, Ian has the courtesy of returning her bullets with the flick of his fingers. She doesn't appreciate the gesture though, ducking down to avoid getting holes in her face. In a fit of frustration, she throws her gun at the storm.

Ian lets out a humorous laugh, avoiding the gun thrown his way. "Do you now understand the futility of fighting a force of nature?" He waves his index finger in a circle, creating an EF0 tornado within seconds. 

Alarmed, Florida immediately runs to the rear and jumps the ship, cursing under her breath, "No way I'm losing to a storm with a boring lame-ass name." She leaps across the roofs of multiple cars like stepping stones, escaping the tornado's path in time.

But without warning, Ian whips up the winds, strengthening the storm surge's current. In turn, the stronger waves force some cars and debris to float down the flooded street. Florida surfs clumsily on top of a yellow McLaren P1 supercar, unable to jump elsewhere without risking injury. While looking for stable ground, a large wave suddenly takes her by surprise and pushes her off the submerged sports car. At that point, Ian assumes she's finished. He silently gazes at her struggle until he can no longer find her head floating above the waves and debris. Her morbid disappearance is lackluster, but it isn't shocking. In his eyes, she's just another tally on the death toll.

Ian huffs, "Foolish woman. That was child's play." He leaves the area to go ravage areas further inland.

~ .......... ~

Hurricane Ian continues his path of destruction across the Floridian Peninsula, recording the storm-torn cities on another iPhone with a wicked grin. "What do you think of my work, Florida people? Does it surpass Irma's?" He laughs viciously. "Don't bother disliking this live stream. Y'all can't cancel me cuz I don't give a flying fuck about your feelings. I'm a fucking hurricane. I can get away with wrecking cities and killing people. No matter what y'all do, I won't be in any way affected."

While having another laugh at humans, Ian picks up on some sad mewls. Curious, he flies around the area until he finds a small gray kitten perched on a bench, soaked and shivering in the wind and rain. The poor kitty is alone and frightened, unable to flee to cover due to the raging waves of the storm surge. Nobody is around to rescue the helpless kitten. Viewers on the live stream plea for the kitty to be saved.

Alas, Ian has no love for cats.

"Motherfucker!" A shout stops him from attempting to drown the kitten, forcing his eyes to the roof of a firehouse where Florida is standing smugly with a broomstick in her hand and a big carry bag at her feet. "Ready for round two?"

He scowls, "Impressive to see you're alive somehow. Too bad you've made a grave mistake provoking me again. Because this time, I'm keen to break every bone in your body." He rises above the buildings of the city, looking down at her while forming a tornado with his finger. He tells his viewers on his live stream, "Watch closely. I'm about to commit murder in the second degree."

"Good luck with that," Florida taunts, pulling out a chainsaw from her carry bag.

Ian unleashes debris collected by the tornado at his target with the point of his finger. Sticks, bricks, shingles, trash bags, a rainbow-colored pegasus plushie, and a baby sea turtle are thrown her way. Despite the danger, Florida remains unfazed. She dodges and cuts away flying debris, all while pushing against 115 mph (185 km/h) winds. Without getting hit, she catches the baby sea turtle and tucks it into her pocket for safekeeping. Viewers of the live stream cheer joyously for Florida Woman, striking a nerve in Ian. His rage intensifies the tornado, causing it to fling larger objects like unrooted tree stumps and rusted tin roof tiles. Still, Florida skillfully overcomes the obstacles, suspending everyone's disbelief. Furious, Ian grabs a shark from the flood waters and hurls it at her. But like a scene from Sharknado, she revs up her chainsaw and cuts the shark in half, splattering blood and guts everywhere.

"Argh! Hurry up and fucking die already!" Ian sends the EF2 tornado after her, prompting Florida to escape on a flying broomstick she got from Universal Studios.

Both the hurricane and her continue to fight for supremacy in the stormy skies for hours. For Ian to claim victory, he simply needs to destroy her. It should be easy to do since she can't do shit to him. But like a pesky little fly, Florida flies around his head in circles, outmaneuvering everything thrown her way. She pisses him off to no end, yet he can't seem to hit her once.

"Damn it. I shouldn't be wasting so much time on a single person." Ian pants heavily, realizing his winds have slowed down immensely since making landfall.

His degeneration isn't at all shocking for most hurricanes are like mermaids. They mainly thrive in tropical water. Whenever they decide to head onto land, they have a time limit. Staying on land for extended lengths of time weakens their form to the point they could die and dissipate. Some hurricanes manage to return to the warm water in time and recuperate their strength to make landfall again. Ian has done so once in Cuba with little consequence. After almost a full day on the Floridan Peninsula, however, his winds have now been downgraded to the strength of a tropical storm. Even if he can recover, it's highly unlikely he'll be able to reach the peak of a Category 4 hurricane. No longer does he look like a vigorous young man. Rather, the man personifying the cyclone appears to have aged thirty years and be on the path to a retirement home. Out of all places to die, Florida's home isn't too bad of a place. But the thought of her watching and making a mockery of him dying rubs him the wrong way, and he decides to not give her that satisfaction.

Ian grits his teeth. "I'll let you live, foolish woman. I've gotten bored of this place, so I'll be taking my leave for more interesting places. Consider yourself very lucky." He takes his eyes off her and flies off, leaving damaged homes and businesses behind him.

"Good!" Florida huffs while watching him flee for the Atlantic, flipping him the bird out of spite for what he had done. "Fly away, you pussy! Fly away to Martha's Vineyard! I don't wanna see your face ever again!"

~ Meow... ~

Sitting with a baby sea turtle at the counter of a Waffle House, Florida groans nauseously in the aftermath of the major hurricane, "Man, this fucking hurts America's giant dick. I know it ain't gonna be fun cleaning up this huge mess. That's for sure." Her boss comes over to the counter to serve her food in a to-go container. After thanking him, she pops open the box to find fluffy scrambled eggs, crispy hash browns, and warm toast. It all looks and smells delicious, although she wishes she had some meat to go with her morning meal. She can't help but express her disappointment with a sigh. "Is there no bacon or chicken available?"

"Sorry, hon," says Georgia, popping out of the kitchen. "This place has a limited menu, so you'll have to—" She drops the can of Coke in her hands in shock at seeing the topless Floridian. "Why aren't you wearing a shirt?"

"My bikini top got blown away during the storm."

"D-Don't you have anything to cover yourself?"

"I have a jacket, but I'm letting the kitten I saved snuggle in it." She glances at the gray kitten sleeping on the stool next to her.

"I can see that, but you still can't have your bare melons hanging on the counter. The other customers here are eating in a Waffle House, not in a Hooters. They're not paying to see your hushpuppies." She takes off her cooking apron and hands it over to her. "I want it back when you find something appropriate to wear. I plan to volunteer at South Carolina's house once the storm blows over."

"Speaking of South Carolina, how do you think she's faring?"

Georgia sighs, "Not too bad, I hope."

~ Meanwhile... ~

"Please die," South Carolina scowls unimpressed at the old man standing at her doorstep.

"I still have some life left in me for a third round," says Ian with a slow, creepy laugh.

"Ugh. I already dealt with a tropical storm earlier this year. I rather not deal with your crap."

"What did you call me? Tropical storm? Young lady, I'm a Category 1 hurricane. 

"Whatever." She rolls her eyes. "I just need to stay inside and wait until you pass away."

"H-Hey. Don't underestimate me. I've flooded the roads and knocked out the power in your home. I can still hurt you badly—"

The door slams shut in his face.

~ Fuck, Ian! ~

¡Oye, oye, papi, give me OJ!
¡Oye, oye, mami, oye, oye, mami!
I cannot forget the taste of that
Key lime pie I ate so long ago!

Draw a circle, that's the Earth!
Draw a circle, that's the Earth!
Draw a circle, that's the Earth!
¡Oye, I'm Florida!

Draw a circle, that's the Earth!
Looking closely, that's the Earth!
Or maybe, that's the Earth?
I'm the Sunshine State!

☆☆☆☆☆

+ September is on average the busiest month of the Atlantic hurricane season as demonstrated by the tropical cyclones in this episode.

- Earl was a tropical storm when it was moving through the Northern Leeward Islands and Puerto Rico before getting pushed back out to the Atlantic Ocean by westerly wind shear. It was predicted to become a Category 4 hurricane, however, its inner core was constantly interrupted due to dry air conditions. As such, Earl only managed to get to Category 2 strength at its peak near Bermuda. When it reached Newfoundland, the cyclone had weakened to a tropical depression. Damages were minimal, and only two people died due to a lightning strike.

- Fiona was similar to Earl but much bigger. Despite having the same problematic conditions as Earl, Fiona was able to affect more areas of the Caribbean as a tropical storm that was growing steadily into a Category 4 hurricane at its peak near Bermuda. Though it gradually weakened while traveling northward, it was still powerful enough to destroy thousands of homes and businesses when it landed in Eastern Canada. Altogether, damages were over $12.1 billion, and at least 22 deaths were attributed to Fiona.

- Ian was a major hurricane that reached Category 4 strength when it hit Florida (aka America's dick). It brought a wind gust of around 150 mph, 30+ inches of rainfall that flooded parts of the peninsula, and a 6-foot storm surge that destroyed homes and businesses near the coast. Shortly after leaving Florida, Ian made landfall again in South Carolina as a Category 1 hurricane before dissipating after that. Overall, damages were estimated to be $63 billion at most with over 120 deaths confirmed thus far at the time of publishing this story.

~

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