In my grandiose swimming dreams, I am the king of all swimmers and win the olympics gold medal. In the TV interview afterwards, I am wearing my speedos, a red bucket helmet and a cape reminiscent of Magneto and when they ask me, “how does it feel to be an olympian?” I intone, “Weep heterosexual mortals, for I, a noted homo have mastered your ‘breast stroke’ and claim my rightful title as Homo Superior!”
The heterosexual riots last for days. But they return four years later to retake the title. By that time, I have ruled the nearest star system for 2 years.