{ASS} {AT} What's So Wonderful About It? .. by PRED (aka the Seasonal Post)
pr...@altavista.net
What's So Wonderful About It?
Approximately seventy-five customers wait in the cashiers'
line at Big & Dick's Books, Music & Coffee Jamboree. Even a cursory
glance tells my experienced eye that half of these shoppers are in the
wrong line. All I need to do is wait for one of them to finally make
it to the cash registers, then desperately ask one of the cashiers to
help them find about twenty items on a hand-scrawled gift list.
Suddenly, everyone in line behind this unfortunate soul will
start groaning and cursing the moron to the bowels of hell. "I'm
sorry," the cashier will try to be nice, "but you need to go to the
information desk." An exasperated, chastising finger will point to
the HUGE desk located all the way across the store, directing the
brain-dead imbecile's attention to the gaudy, flashing neon sign that
reads INFORMATION & CUSTOMER SERVICE.
"But I've been waiting in this line for twenty minutes," the
beleaguered customer will whine as people start hurling epithets and
projectiles -- batteries, car keys, switch blades.
"Move it, asshole .." "Hey, tard-boy, get the fuck out of the
line .." "Hey, bitch, don't you fucking understand English ..?" "Get
out of the fucking line, reknob ..!"
"Manager to the REGISTER!" the plaintive wail of the cashier
resounds through the store.
That's when I go to work. I wear a name tag. I'm thirty-five
fucking years old, and I wear a fucking name tag! It might as well
read TOBY, because I am EVERYBODY's shucking, jiving, nigger whipping
boy. I'm the lowest of the low. I'm the bacteria that festers on the
shit pile of humanity. I'm a retail manager, and it's HOLIDAY TIME!
I wish the baby Jesus would have been snuff-fucked by Herod's
jack-booted Messiah-hunters. I wish the Maccabees would have gotten
their asses kicked by the Greek-led quislings and their fucking temple
lamps would have flickered into darkness. I wish towel-head Muhammad
would have rotted in that fucking cave, stewing in his own piss and
shit. I wish the nights just kept getting longer and colder after the
solstice. I wish the jungle bunnies would have stayed in slavery,
gathering the fruits of harvest for their white masters ... FOREVER!
I wish the gooks would have all been vacationing in Hiroshima the day
the Enola Gay dumped its choad load.
THIS IS the last circle of HELL, the fucking Trail of Tears,
and I'm walking point. The customer in question, a large black woman,
her nostrils flaring like a water buffalo's, waves a list in my face.
"Excuse me! I NEED to find these things!"
I look down at the list. I look back up. "We don't have any
of these items," I say, throwing in the obligatory "I'm sorry."
"How do you know?" she does that Florida Evans head
roll/shoulder shimmy thing that lets me know she's a Proud Black
Woman, and she ain't gonna take no shit from no bald-headed, pink-ass
motherfucker sporting a name tag. "You just LOOKED at that list for
second. You didn't even CHECK on your computer."
"The items on your list are hardware, toys and electronics.
We don't carry any of those things here," I explain patiently. "This
is Big & Dick's Books, Music & Coffee Jamboree."
"EXCUSE ME!" she booms. "Are you trying to imply that I DO
NOT KNOW where I am?"
"Not at all, ma'am." I CAN'T GET THOSE FUCKING JINGLE CATS
OUT OF MY FUCKING MIND! "Can I help you find something?"
"Yes," she snorts. "You can help me find the THINGS on my
list."
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but we don't carry any of those items."
"But you didn't even check your computer!?"
"You need to go to a department store or a Wal-Mart or a
K-Mart for those things, ma'am. We don't carry ANY of those items
here."
"EXCUSE ME! But how do you know if you didn't even check your
computer?!"
"MANAGER TO THE REGISTER!"
"I'm sorry," I shake my head. "I can't help you." NO ONE CAN
FUCKING HELP YOU!
"But you didn't even check your computer ..?!" she wails.
"Don't you GO walking away from me! I will not be discriminated
against because I'm a black woman. Is that what you want me to tell
all my black friends ..? That Big & Dicks doesn't want their money or
their business if they are black ..? You know what happened to
Denny's and Texaco, you racist. Do not WALK away from me. I'm
talking to you .."
I leave her bellowing and move to the next crisis. An elderly
gentleman is standing at the register. The cashier is about to cry.
The old fart is pounding on the counter. "I vant the Pat Boochan-an
book! Vere ist de Pat Boochan-an book? Vere haf you hidden it? You
are trying to censor Mr. Pat Boochan-an. I know how you liberals
think. You think eef you can pull all of Mr. Pat Boochan-an's books
from the floor, that people vill nefer learn the truth. Mr. Pat
Boochan-an has some very insightful things to say about the American
involvement in Vorld Var Two. You and your liberal establishment do
not vant the PEOPLE to know the TRUTH! I demand you bring the Pat
Boochan-an books out on the floor immediately."
"Sir," I step in. "We're all sold out of that item. There
were 1,000 other people here before you looking for that book, and we
sold them copies. We aren't censoring anyone. In fact, we've done
quite the opposite. We've sold so many copies of Pat Buchanan's book
that we're out right now. We should have 100 of them coming in on the
Monday shipment. I'd be more than happy to take your name and .."
"The AMERICAN JEW is responsible for this!" the old kraut
pounds on the counter like Kruschev testing out a new pair of
steel-toed shit-kickers at the UN.
"Shut up, you fucking old Nazi geezer!" some pierced homos
shout from the back of the line.
"Hey, dick-breath, stick a sock in your pie hole and move
along!"
"Mach Schnell, Adolf! We've got fucking lives to lead back
here .."
"MANAGER TO THE REGISTER!"
"Do not valk away from me, jung man ..!
"Di-count!" Two registers down, some gibbering genetic
also-ran is spraying a gallon of tard spit and waving her arms about
like chimp on crack.
"This ..woman .. claims she gets a discount," the cashier
tells me as I approach.
"Hi," I try to smile at the blathering tard sputtering in my
face. "I'm the Manager on Duty today. What seems to be the problem?"
"I GET Di-COUNT!" she waves some card in my face. I take it
from her. It reads: "Lucy, Upside Downs." The name is scrawled in
crayon and three of the four letters are backwards.
"I'm sorry, we don't honor this discount here," I tell her,
handing back the card. I'm not even sure what the card means. The
counter is littered with piles of Winnie the Pooh books. There are
four other tards with Lucy, and they are all waving the same cards in
my face.
"Up-IDE DownSS!" she screeches. "I get Di-COUNT. I'b
RETARDED ..!"
The cashier starts crying. It's Christmas Eve, and there is a
mongo standing in line before 100 people demanding a discount because
she is retarded. And I'm not giving it to her.
"Give her the discount, you pig!" "Come on, asshole, look at
her. She's obviously not faking. She's a drooling tard. Give her
the discount!"
"Yeb, gib me the Di-COUNT!" the tard shrieks. "I Retarded."
She waves the card in my face again. UPSIDE DOWNS. I have now
officially seen every LAST FUCKING THING in the universe.
"MANAGER TO THE REGISTER!"
"Who the FUCK are you?" I'm awoken from my sleep. A large,
dark, shadowy figure stands over my bed. I think I must be dreaming,
then I look about.
Dee, my nigger-slave wife, is lying at the foot of the bed,
curled up in a ball at my feet. She's still hog-tied and gagged, and
some of the deeper lacerations I inflicted on her earlier that night
have started seeping onto the sheets. She sighs in her sleep
contentedly, the way she always does after a thorough whipping and
ass-stretching. She really is a good nigger. In the first moments of
consciousness, I flash back to the events of a few hours before.
Our Christmas Eve discipline session got a little carried
away, especially after I took those three hits of Ecstasy. I vaguely
remember dragging Dee's bloody, beaten body out into the snow and
fucking her inside the neighbor's life-size Nativity Manger. I bent
her over the Virgin Mary statue and fucked her ass while she simulated
sucking off The Three Wise Men.
All the while we staged this little performance, the
neighbor's children, 7-year-old Dawn and 5-year old Jimmy, watched in
rapt amazement. They'd been sneaking a peek for Santa and Rudolf.
Instead, they learned the brutal facts of life. Dawn opened the
window and asked me what I was doing to my nigger-slave wife in her
mommy and daddy's Nativity scene.
"Fucking her ass like the ho' she is," I responded. "Ho ho ho
.."
"That's funny," Dawn giggled.
"That's because you're a ho', too," I told her. "A worthless,
pea-brained, cum-chugging ho'."
"What's a ho?" Dawn asked.
"You!" I grunted. "See that little slit between your legs?" I
asked, and she nodded. "Now see that thing hanging between your
brother's legs. He has a dick, and that makes him a human being. You
only have a hole there, so that makes you a ho'. Ho's are only half
human. My wife has black skin, so that makes her something even lower
than a ho' - she's a nigger ho'. You're just a ho', though."
"Was Mary a ho'?" Dawn asked.
"Mary was the queen of ho's," I tell her. "She got fucked by
God. God has a dick that's a million miles long and he rammed it up
Mary's cunt and rode her like a merry-go-round. Then he shot cum
inside her that was as big as all the oceans in the world. That's how
the Baby Jesus was born. The Baby Jesus was the bastard son of the
Queen of Ho's."
"You have a big thingie," Dawn commented as she watched me
slam in and of my nigger-slave wife. "Is your thingie bigger than
Santa's."
"It's called a cock," I told her, sliding my nine-inch rape
saber from my nigger-slave wife's ass and brandishing it in little
Dawn's face. "Or a dick, or a prick. Can you say those words?"
"Cock .. dick .. prick ." she repeated.
"Which one do you like best?" I asked her.
"Dick," she nodded and gigglesd. "You have a big dick. Is
your DICK bigger than Santa's?"
"Santa's dick isn't even an inch long," I told her. "He's a
fag pedophile, too. He sneaks into people's houses and sucks little
boy's cocks while they're asleep. Then when they cum, he bites them
off and eats them. Then he'll take the little girls out and make them
suck and fuck his reindeer while he videotapes them. Santa's reindeer
have huge dicks, over four feet long."
"Wow!" Dawn cooed. "Those are big dicks!"
"Rudolf has the biggest reindeer dick of them all," I tell her
as I fuck my nigger-slave wife up the ass. "His dick is five feet
long and the cock-head glows at the end. Santa videos little girls
with the reindeer, and then he posts those tapes as mpgs to
alt.santa's.reindeer.kiddie.porn.betstialty on the internet."
"Wow, that sounds cool," Dawn gushed. "Do you think Santa
would let me suck and fuck Rudolf? That sounds like fun."
"First he needs to see if you're a good girl," I snarled.
"That's why I'm here. I'm one of Santa's helpers, and he sent me here
to test you. Do you want me to test you?"
"Mm hmm .." Dawn nodded.
I was ready to cum now, so I walked over to the open window.
"Suck the cum out of my cock, you fucking little 7-year old ho'," I
snapped at the girl. She leaned her head out the window, opened her
mouth and closed her eyes. "Open your eyes, cunt," I slapped her face
hard, and she started bawling. "Whores look at a man when he rapes
their snotty little mouths."
I pried open her blubbering lips and rammed my cock deep into
her gagging throat. She tried to fight back, but she was just a weak
little 7-year old cunt. So I drilled her tonsils while her little
brother watched, and then I frosted her sobbing face with a glistening
gob of PRED's special holiday cheer.
"Now lie down on the floor, spread your legs and let your
little brother shove his hard cock inside your bald twat and fuck you
like the ho' you are!" I commanded.
She obeyed me to the letter, lying on her back, kicking apart
her legs and spreading open her bald, wet cunt.
"You," I ordered the boy, "before you pop your sister's cherry
I want you to take that fucking angel off your window sill and shove
it up your sister's cunt!" I watched as the boy pinned his sister
down and raped her tight, virgin twat until the angel was soaked with
blood. "Make her lick it off now!" I told him. "Make her suck her
7-year-old pussy blood off the Angel while you TAKE her virgin cherry
.. on Christmas Eve!"
Hark, the Herald Angels Cum! Truly a magical night.
"I am here for you, PREDATOR!"
The voice yanks me out of my cozy reminiscences, and hurls me
back into the present. Some fucking THING has woken me up from my
Christmas Eve slumber. I reach over to the nightstand, slip my Ruger
out from the drawer and plug the intruder between the eyes. The
shadowy figure slumps to the floor. I get up and pounce on it,
throwing back the hood.
"Fucking Roma Downy!" I spit in the intruder's face. One
false move, and I could have been touched by an Angel.
"I .. I'm an Angel," she blubbers. "You aren't supposed to
shoot me. You aren't supposed to be able to shoot me. I'm an Angel
." she sobs pathetically.
"Welcome to my world, cunt!" I grab a hank of her hair and
press her gasping, quivering lips into my nutsack. "There are no
Angels here. No Redemption either. Someone should have told you
before you wasted your time."
"I was sent to show you Christmas Past, Present and Future,"
Roma gasps, the blood pouring from the hole in her head. "Then I was
supposed to make you see what the world would have been like had you
never lived. This was supposed to be a Christmas Miracle."
"Yeah, and now you're just rape meat," I snicker, cutting a
wet fart into her face and jamming her weeping mouth into my dribbling
shit hole. I use her lips like toilet paper, noticing the silver bell
sitting on my dresser.
This is the same bell I use to call my nigger-slave wife when
I NEED a back rub, a rim job, or an open mouth to piss in so I don't
have to trudge all the way to the bathroom. I shake the bell and it
tinkles. "In my world, every time you hear a bell ring it means Satan
is tearing off an Angel's wings and raping her cherry ass while the
Baby Jesus watches."
"You .. are .. the sickest beast .. I have ever .."
"DID I SAY YOU COULD TALK, WHORE!?" I take my fist and shove
it into her gaping mouth. While she gags on my hand, I take my cock
and slide it into the bullet hole between her eyes. "Okay, Angel,
Prepare to be Touched - PRED style! Oh, yeah, and say 'hi' to Michael
Landon for me." I rip my fist out of her mouth so I can savor her
screams as I give her a frontal lobotomy with my rape-scalpel.
"Please, stop .." she whimpers, her teary eyes focused on the
nine-inches of agony skewering between her eyebrows. "I'll do
anything. Just please don't ram your ,hard nine-inch cock into my
brains. I'll do anything. I have the power to grant you any wish you
desire for 24 hours. Anything!"
"Alrighty, then," I plop my bloated cock-head out of her brain
pan and slap it across her face while she sobs. "Anything?" I ask,
dipping my prick between her slavering lips and feeding her strands of
her own slimy brain tissue.
"Yes," she mewls. "Anything."
"I want the last twenty-four hours back," I tell her. "And I
want to be able to do and say anything I want with no retribution. Do
you understand?"
Yes," she gasps ..
I wake up. THAT WAS SOME FUCKED UP DREAM. Can't even
remember what it is now, but it was FUCKED UP! But I have no time for
Freudian mind games.
It's December 24th, Christmas fucking Eve. This may not be
the busiest shopping day of the year, but it's the longest, the most
desperate. I HATE MY FUCKING LIFE! I rub the sleep from my eyes.
I look over to where my nigger-slave wife Dee should be,
curled at my Almighty Aryan feet. Her place is vacant, cold. Then I
remember. She's off with her family. Christmas FUCKING Eve! The one
day a year I give her liberty so she can go back to her family and
play FREE nigger. I will pay her sorely for her uppitiness when she
gets back that night. I will whip that thick black butt of hers so
hard that she won't be able to sit down for a fucking millenium.
Now, though, I need to go to work. I don't shower or shave.
Why the fuck should I? I'm working on Christmas Eve, the day the rest
of the world HAS OFF! What more can the fucking world want from me?
After getting dressed, I wolf down three doughnuts, a cup of
coffee, and take another cup to go. I slip through the streets in the
6:00AM darkness. The non-existent crucified God is playing another
cruel joke on me. For the last three weeks the weather has been warm
and clear. Last night, it decided to snow. Now it's a white
Christmas. FUCK BING CROSBY IN THE EAR! It can't get any fucking
worse.
Then I arrive at the store. There's already a line outside
the door, about fifty people who just NEED to get inside. They are
huddled about the door like it's a nuclear fucking winter and Big &
Dick's Books, Music & Coffee Jamboree is the last fallout shelter on
earth. I climb out of my car and stagger through the icy parking lot
up to the door.
"When do you open?" a zombie-eyed eunuch in his forties asks.
He is standing directly in front of the sign that reads: OPEN 7AM -
5PM XMAS EVE. The truly frightening thing is I KNOW he's not joking.
I am always amazed that human race didn't go extinct a hundred
thousand years ago.
"Seven AM," I tell the man as I fish out my keys. As I open
the door and try to slide inside, I feel all the people start crowding
in at my back. "Um .. we're not open yet," I turn around to tell
them.
"Come on, buddy, it's Christmas," another zombie drones.
"Give us a mother fucking break, asshole. It's motherfucking
Christmas."
"The store doesn't open til 7," I point impotently to the
sign, as if any of these numb-nut Neanderfucks can even read.
"But you're here .." a cunt pipes up. "You can open up."
"I .. listen, I don't have anything ready to open yet," I try
to explain. "The registers aren't even turned on. It takes me about
half an hour to get .."
"Can't you just let us go inside and shop?" she cuts me off.
"We can wait to pay when you're all set up."
"Listen, there's no staff here yet. No one gets in til .."
"We don't need anybody. Besides, you're here, and you can
wait on us .."
"Listen, I can't .." Before I can say anything else, the
throng pushes me into the store. Minutes later, they are everywhere,
ransacking the shelves and running amok like Genghis Khan's troops in
a convent.
I can't do anything, so I just start opening up. Every minute
I am besieged with pointless questions - "Do you have that book with
the Blue Cover?" "Who's that guy again, the one who plays guitar ..?
Do you have any CDs by him?" "Can I go back behind your coffee
counter and start up the $10,000 espresso machine?."
Things get even worse when the staff finally arrives. As they
enter store and see the hordes of sheeple, each employee gazes upon me
with pure, unabated, abject loathing. Not only are they are being
forced to work on Christmas Eve, but I committed the cardinal sin of
all retail -- I opened up early. I have not even given my employees
the time to wind-up and settle into the day. I have thrown them to
the lions FIRST THING! Two of my holiday part-timers decide to punch
in and do their Christmas shopping. After they are all rung up at
their 40%-off employee discount, they pay, take their bags, say "I
quit," and walk out.
I am now down to 5 people plus myself. I man the registers
with two cashiers, put two people at Information and designate the
fifth employee a floater. The phone starts ringing off the hook.
"Are you open?" EVERY SINGLE caller asks when I pick up the phone and
say: "Hello, thank you for calling Big & Dicks Books, Music and Café
Jamboree. May I help you ..?" The next hour unfolds like a firefight
in Sarajevo with no air support.
The next employees don't begin their shifts until 9AM. Of the
five staffers due in at 9:00AM, three call off by 8:00AM. By 9:00AM,
the store is packed with ransacking Visigoths, and I'm trying to man
battle-stations with seven staffers who are now taking coffee and
smoke breaks en masse every five minutes.
"Manager to the register .." the page sounds over the
loudspeaker.
The customer, a large black woman, her nostrils flaring like a
water buffalo's, waves a list in my face. "Excuse me! I NEED to find
these things!"
I've been here before, about 1,000,000 times in the last three
weeks.
I look down at the list.
WAIT A MINUTE! I have been here before. I mean I really have
BEEN HERE BEFORE. I shiver as my blurry mind snaps into focus. "But
that was just a fucking dream," I tell myself. "Roma Downy did not
appear over my bed, and I did not plug her with a round from Ruger and
start fucking the bullet hole in her head. Or did she?" It ALL
starts crashing through my brain like a tidal wave.
I am back in yesterday. That dumb cunt Angel did swear to let
me relive the last twenty-four hours with absolutely no retribution.
I HAVE been HERE before. This is the same stupid water buffalo and
the same stupid list.
I look around to the line of waiting sheeple. An angry German
man is beating his fist on the counter. A group of retards is walking
upto the next available cashier with piles of Winnie the Pooh books,
clutching a bunch of cards reading UPSIDE DOWNS.
Oh, my Satan ..
"EXCUSE ME!" the water buffalo in my face tugs at my arm. "I
AM talking to YOU!"
"I know," I answer. "That's what startled me. I wasn't aware
apes could talk."
The look on her face is priceless .. absolutely priceless.
"Listen, you fat-ass, thick-lipped, watermelon-slurping crack
ho'," I take her by her corn-row hair extensions and yank her down to
the floor, snapping her blubbery neck while she howls in pain. "Don't
you EVER speak to a WHITE MAN that way again, do you understand,
GIRLFR'EN ..? You are a FUCKING FAT-ASSED, black-eyed pea-brained
Aunt Jemima. Now you worship my white cock with your fucking
thick-lipped, crack-ho' mouth, or I will whip that fat lazy black ass
of yours in front of everyone here and let them all take turns
whuppin' your thick brown hide when I'm done."
"Let go of me!" she shrieks at the top of her fat black lungs.
"RAPE!"
"Shut the fuck up, you fat old nigger," one of the men in line
laughs. "You should have stayed on your own side of town, nigger.
Serves you fucking right coming over here and causing trouble."
"Fuck her fat nigger face," someone else chimes in.
"Shove your cock down her throat and strangle her fat black
neck .."
"Stop this, right n .." the water buffalo starts to scream
before I interrupt her with a series of bitch-slaps upside her head
that set her ivory-white teeth chattering. Slack-jawed and pounded
into submission, she hangs her head down in a minute and starts
licking the crotch of my pants.
"Take it out, nigger!" I spit in her face. "Take out my
almighty white prick from my pants WITH YOUR FUCKING MOUTH. No hands,
ho'! NO FUCKING HANDS!"
"Fuck you .." she blubbers before I rain down another
succession of blows onto her fat black face. As I twist her hair into
a painful knot, she finally does what she's told. She begins trying
to unbuckle my belt with her shuddering teeth.
"You!" I point to a white teenager boy in line. "Pull down
her skirt, rip her panties off and start whipping her with my belt."
I turned back to the water buffalo. "Get my belt off, ho', so you can
get that lazy black bubble butt of yours whipped. DO IT!" I punch
her in the jaw. She sobs like a big black baby as she starts tugging
at my belt with her shiny white teeth.
Everyone watches in rapt fascination as Aunt Jemima spends the
next five minutes working my belt off solely with her mouth. Then,
holding it between her teeth like a dog offering it's master a leash,
she holds my belt out to the white teenage boy. He tears down her
skirt, shreds her panties over her fat ass, and then starts laying
into her fat black ass with the buckle-end of the belt. I yank her
face back over to my pants, and she resumes unbuttoning and unzipping
them with her dutiful, bawling mouth.
"That's it, nigger," I praise her when she finally has my
pants and shorts down. I spank her fat black face with my bloated
white ho-choker. "Hey, I've got an idea," I laugh out loud. "You,
cunt ..!" I point to a high school girl who is standing with two of
her friends laughing as they watch me abuse the water buffalo. "Go
back to the African American Studies section and get the book
Affirmations for African American Women by Shara Shabazz. GO!"
The high-school girl runs off excitedly.
"I think it's time for some daily affirmations," I tell the
crowd. The girl reappears quickly with the book. She hands it to me.
I open it up and shove it Aunt Jemima's face. "You're going to read
this now while I choke fuck your fat black face and Skippy back there
whips your fat black ass. Then you're going to keep reading these
affirmations while every guy in the place here takes a turn stuffing
his white meat up your black Kwanza cunt. NOW READ!" I punch her
jaw, and he head snaps back.
Her mouth drooling with blood and spit she starts to read: "I
am a proud black woman .."
I cut her off by taking her face, plugging her nose up,
ripping open her thick black lips, spreading her slack jaws and
jam-fucking my white throat-throttler deep into her gagging, gulping
windpipe. "Fuck the fat nigger's face .." I gasp, pounding the spit
and puke from her gasping lungs until it floods out of the corners of
her mouth. "RECITE!" I order, pulling out of her sucking cock-slot
with a PLOP!
"My dignity flows forth like the waters of the mighty Nile .."
she blubbers.
I interrupt with another salvo of choke fucking. "RECITE,
crack ho'!" I hiss as I pull out.
"The pride of my people rolls in my powerful hips, my
plentiful bosom, my strong back .."
The teenager is whipping her ass as I prong her tonsils again.
Zippers start falling, and men put down their shopping bags. Dicks
are being stroked and primed, ready to inflict some penance on this
uppity negress who DARED to come over on OUR SIDE of town and do her
Christmas shopping.
For the first time, I notice the small boy with her, her son
obviously. His eyes burn with shame and rage as he watches me
dehumanize his mother. "You, cunts!" I point to the high school girls
again. "Get down on your knees and suck off that little nigger boy.
NOW!" They pause. "I will rape your cherry asses right here and turn
you over to the pack if you don't, you snot-nosed suburban cum
dumpsters. Now suck off the nigger boy. Lick his ass, and show him
how all white cunts are just ho's for black dick."
The girls put down their bags and crawl over to the boy. I
look at him, and he nods as his new white bitches unzip his pants and
take out his proud, seven-inch cock. At no more than five years old,
this little ape-boy has a dick that men ten times his age would kill
for. The girls go ga-ga over the nigger boy's slut-fucker and they
start sucking it, fighting among themselves while he pulls their hair
and bitch-slaps their snotty white faces with his bloated black
boyhood. He doesn't even care that I am raping his mother now. He's
a credit to his fucking race.
" .. I stand proud and strong .." Aunt Jemima drones on
between throatfuls of my raging white fury. "I am a black woman.
Hear me roar .."
"Anybody want some?" I lift her drooling, slobbering face up
to the crowd. A line of twenty or so men form at her mouth, with
another fifty or so men and boys already at her ass. I pass her head
like a basketball to a fat white man, and walk over to the line formed
at her ass.
The German with the Pat Buchanan complex is standing in front,
his flabby, octogenarian tool in his squeezing fingers. The randy old
goose-stepper probably hasn't had an erection in fifteen years, and
now he's sporting more hard wood than the petrified forest. Too
fucking bad.
I kick him hard in the stomach. Then I point to the two
pierced fags who have been looking on with a rather disgusted
amusement. "This old geezer's a Nazi," I tell them. "He'd like to
see all you queers gassed in ovens like his idol Hitler did to the
Jews. Why don't show him what it means to get FUCKED!"
"You are sick man!" the old fart screams as the fags drop
leather trou and move in for the kill. In a second, the old kraut is
gagging on pierced gay dick and getting fisted by a ring-covered gay
hand.
"That's it, gramps," the fags cackle as the old man starts
sucking like a queen and taking it up the ass like a British
schoolboy.
"By the way, Himmler," I tell him. "I have a thousand copies
of the Pat Buchanan book in back sitting in boxes. I'm going to
return them to the publisher unopened. The fucking Nazis lost the
war, you old fart. They are not going to rise again. Neither is the
Confederacy or the British Empire or the American Indians, and
especially not the FUCKING FRENCH. As for all you Bible-thumping
troglodytes, Christ isn't going to rise again, either. Don't laugh,
Jew boy," I point to some hook-nose who is watching with glee as the
old kraut gets sodomized. "Israel will never get the Temple Mount
back. And don't you laugh, towel heads," I spit at a sand nigger
couple complete with body odor and shawls for the ladies. "You Arabs
are always going to be sewage-swilling camel jockeys. As for any
fucking dot-heads out there, India, Pakistan and Bangladesh are always
going to be backwater shitholes filled with human detritus. That goes
for Latin and South America and eastern Europe, too. All you subhuman
chimps are always going remain under the control of political
strongmen and dick-fisted juntas because you are TOO GENETICALLY
INFERIOR to govern yourselves. At one point, you may have all been
bought out by the nips, chinks and other gooks, but we all see how
well they manage their money now, don't we. Fucking slanty-eyed,
jaundice-skin monkey-dicks can't even buy a pack of gum now without
the World Monetary Fund stepping into fund your sorry yellow asses.
You're all FUCKING LOSERS! Every last so-called HUMAN among you. .
So live with it, SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTHS and TAKE your buggering like
men! As for me? I'm the biggest loser of all because I don't put a
gun up to my head and check out of this flea-bag flophouse like a REAL
man. And maybe I will, but not after I take a few of you drooling
shit-snorlers with me."
I whirl over to the group of Upside Downs crying like a pack
of baboons at the register. The angry man with the big, menacing dick
is terrifying them. GOOD! I walk up to them and throw Lucy, the head
tard across the counter. While she bawls like lemur, I tear down her
jeans and urine-soaked panties and spread open her mongo cunt like two
pieces of Wonder Bread ready for some thick hunks of bologna.
"Fucking tards have to learn your place!" I howl as I begin
pounding into the window-licker's virgin cock-slot. "You are a
fucking retard, and you don't deserve ANYTHING. Do you understand,
snot-gobbler? What are you?"
"I'b retarded!" Lucy howls.
"Round up the rest of the tards and let's have a party," I
shout to the crowd. The holiday shoppers are closing in like a pack
of wolves. "In fact, everybody just start raping and kicking the crap
out of anyone you want. Let's make this a Holiday we all remember!
The world could end in a week. Let's see the human fucking race go
out with STYLE!"
"Will you let me go now?" Roma Downey pleaded with me hours
later, when history played itself out again, winding up at the moment
where the cunt Angel was kneeling on the floor at my feet, her brain
about to be stuffed with nine furious inches of PRED dick.
"Twenty four hours isn't up yet, cunt," I looked at the clock
on my nightstand. "I still have ten minutes left, and I'm going to
enjoy every last tick of the clock." I sliced my cock into her soft
brain and skull fucked her to oblivion.
"What are you doing, Massa?" my nigger-slave wife finally woke
up when Roma's caterwauling began.
"We got ourselves an Angel to fuck, ho'," I told my wife.
"Get your razor-studded strap-on out and you can have her ass while I
fuck her skull."
"You're the best Massa," the nigger grins as she slips onto
her razor-studded Dick of Death and mounts Roma's seizure racked ass.
With no lube at all, she just slices the Angel's milky white shit-pipe
to ribbons. "You always get me the best toys to play with me."
"Merry Fucking Kwanza, ho'. Now rape this Angel's to a
bloody, pulpy mess. We only got six minutes left before Hell breaks
loose."
FUCK YOU ALL IN THE EAR!
PRED
Ghoul...@hotmail.com
that for the last month because I HATE FUCKING CHRISTMAS!!! Nothing
but an economic liability complete with the same damn songs fifteen
times a day...well it wouldn't be so bad if they played Run DMC's
Christmas in Hollis all day.
If nothing else that should clear up that whole identity issue. No way
anyone, much less a priest, would know the ins and outs of retail so
well if they weren't actually working the floors. Man, that job at the
Borders by I-77 just up the road from Kent State must suck or
something...
Ghoulardi
Sent via Deja.com http://www.deja.com/
Before you buy.
santa
to the dickhead who responded.......give me and the rest of the world a
break, it's the holidays, if you don't like them "fuck you". those who
do like it don't need to hear how you hate it! keep it to your(in your
words) "FUCKING" self! you hear the songs one, one, one, time a year, so
what, like your gonna die, tune out, tune in or go fuck yourself or your
hand or whatever latex you do use, no one cares. to those who read
this(other than Gho..whatever) i'm sorry, it's been a trying time for
myself for reasons i will not go into.
the holidays do mean something, and to the children they mean much more
because they need us to understand what this time of year is about, if
you spread hate they learn hate, consciously or subconsciously they
learn! we as adults see money money money spend spend spend, but they
see joy from what we saw or could only hope to see again. learn to live
or at least to see!
this is their time time....show them peace....it will breed
Ghoul...@hotmail.com
It's always good to see someone new who wants me dead and then tries to
reform me.
On the whole silence is golden angle, if someone expresses displeasure
at something in an original post, what can be wrong with doing the same
in a reply? It's topical and just because you don't like it doesn't
mean I can't say it. Not everyone sees Christmas as a good thing, but
it's an extremely valuable commodity when someone actually dares to
communicate that.
And if the culture "needs" Internet posters to refrain from
nonenjoyment of Dec. 25th "for the children" it's not nearly as sound
as I thought...hey Junior what are you doing here?
Oh and verrrrrry fresh latex smack. So insightful...
Scroogily yours,
pr...@altavista.net
(JustmeŽ) wrote:
>Pred, my dear, thank you. You've finally written something that made _me_ have
>an orgasm.
And here comes the flame ...
>
>The next time you post some drivel about picking up children my daughter's age,
>the next time I see some stupidity about "Dee," your 'wife' who sleeps at the
>foot of your bed, the next time I see anything with your name on it that raises
>my hackles, all I need to do is repeat the following simple phrase:
>
>"I wear a name tag."
Makes you feel all nice and empowered, doesn't it, hausfrau
.? The story was a present for all you PRED-haters, a glimpse into
what triggers the rage you all love to loathe. The funny thing is,
there are millions of PREDs out there -- the people who WEAR nametags,
the ANGRY PISSED-OFF serfs you and your ilk SHIT on every day. And
one fine night, Satan willing, you'll find yourself walking down the
wrong street, approaching the wrong nametag-wearer on the wrong night
of your life. I'd hate to be you when that happens, so be careful
(not that it would help).
>
>I can imagine you as a 35 year old man with a name tag who still lives at home
>with his parents, still never touched a human female, and is comdemned to
>fucking Dee, the family dog, who sleeps at the foot of your bed because no woman
>will have you.
That's a pretty fertile imagination you have there, hausfrau.
Still, I guess it's better than calling me Archie and telling
everyone I'm a priest. If visualizing this little fantasy makes you
sleep better at night, then GO FOR IT! Truth is stranger than
fiction, though, even my fiction.
>
>Thank you, Pred. It _was_ enough to induce orgasm, and after reading it I rode
>my husband like a dime-store pony.
>
>So I thank you darlin,' and so does my husband.
>
Glad I could be of service. Tell your daughter I said "high!"
PRED
pr...@altavista.net
(JustmeŽ) wrote:
>
>A veiled threat? Gonna go beat "Dee" again?
I beat my nigger-slave because she's my nigger slave, and the
ho' knows her place, which is beneath my stern, masterful hand.
Heaven help anyone ELSE who tries to take the strap to her, though.
The ho' grew up on the streets, a real eight-ball chick, and had three
assault convictions (tried as an adult) before she was 18. She was a
big fan of the Kool-Aid smile. Now she teaches art to college kids, a
truly pacified little nigger -- until you look at her the wrong way ..
>
>Call her "Ginny" when you do, honey. It might make you feel a little better
>about me, but you need to remember that the real Ginny understands that it only
>takes 3.5 pounds of pressure to snap a man's elbow.
>
>I kick much harder than that, so veiled threats don't bother me.
You misunderstand, hausfrau. I thought your post was quite
funny and engaging. I was returning in kind. You have absolutely
nothing to get all Rambo about. You will never get your comeuppance.
You will flit through life as free as bird. Nothing bad will ever
happen to you, especially since you take self defense courses. You
are fully protected from all the evil that walks the street. So is
your daughter.
>Now, don't get me wrong--the hubby's no Alan Alda. I need a _man_ Pred, just
>like most women. I wish I could introduce you to him, just so you'd know how a
>real man acts toward women in real-life sexual situations.
>A few pointers from him, and I guarantee you'd be having the best sex of your
>life.
>Fuck, even 'Dee' would thank me.
Kudos to hubby. He has you snookered pretty good. You should
see me play the sensitive guy act. One minute I'm Mike Farrell, and
before she knows what's happened she's hogtied on the floor of my
garage getting knotted by my rotweiler while I'm pissing in her mouth.
Good thing you and your daughter are too smart to fall for transparent
guys like me. Remember, read plenty of self-help books on empowering
yourself, and watch Oprah, too, because that stuff will REALLY protect
you in the real world. Always listen to experts as well, especially
the ones with the alphabet soup at the ends of their names. Oh yeah,
and those daily affirmations REALLY work, too. You really are a
wonderful, worthwhile human being, and God really does LOVE you. He
does .. really .. he does ..
As for hubby, you have no idea what's in his mind or lurking
beneath the shadow side of his soul. You could be right, though, he
really could be the great guy you obviously worship. Makes me wonder
how you got that way, though, all adoring and everything.
MAN-ipulation is such a wonderful thing. Hubby has you eating out of
his shorts. You're right, I do respect him <chuckle>.
>I should let her read your stuff, just so she can learn to identify the creme de
>la creme when she sees it. She has a good idea though. The last one's still in
>county jail.
>
><waves>
>
>I helped put him there.
Oh, Lordy, I truly have met my match. You are one tough
customer, hausfrau. I might as well retire with sharp ladies like you
out on the street.
PRED <vastly amused>