BLACK FAT/CHUBBY
[PT: Black fat/chubby /end PT]
a flag for black individuals who are fat or chubby.

seen from Kazakhstan
seen from Russia
seen from Malaysia

seen from Portugal
seen from Poland
seen from China

seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Brazil

seen from United States
seen from Australia
seen from China

seen from United States
seen from Mexico
BLACK FAT/CHUBBY
[PT: Black fat/chubby /end PT]
a flag for black individuals who are fat or chubby.
Why do those color collages w black women in vibrant colors never have fat femmes?
The Agents 2
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Scarface: The Rise Of Fat Black
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1986
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Cesar: Nah son, I'm tellin you. That's one of Big's dudes.
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Baptiste: I don't give a fuck, I'm tryna get this money. Now there's four of us and one of him, he's old and I heard he don't fight no more cause he fucked his knee up back in the day. We take out his legs and we got all the time in the world to run through that nigga's crib.
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Cesar: Yo you're not listening, and you only got three people, I'm out.
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Baptiste: That's cause you been fuckin round with Mia, that pussy got you actin pussy.
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Cesar: No you dumbass mothafucker. That WHOLE crew, has every member callin themselves "Big" so nobody aside from them actually know who the real big is. That old dude could be the real one. You tryna be a stickup kid, you gon get shot before you even make a name for yourself.
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Baptiste: If mothafuckers don't say shit, don't nobody know shit.
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Cesar: I don't know shit. I know I'm leavin, you a fool and you two some hos.
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*incoherent shit talkin sounds from the back.*
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Baptiste: Pay no mind to the bitch in the front seat, she was just leavin.
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*Cesar opens the door, gets out, and begins walking away.*
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Baptiste: AYO! TELL MIA I SAID WUSSUP. I KNOW SHE MISS HOW I USED TO HIT!
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*Cesar turns but continues walking backwards slowly.*
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Cesar: YOU AINT HITTIN IT NOW NIGGA, THAT'S WUSSUP.
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*As the young man walks out of sight the leader of the crew in the car drives a few blocks down and parks at the vantage point to watch the entrance of the old sensei's home. When night falls the trio stalk their way toward the back of the house, guns cocked and ready, their footsteps masked by the breeze and chirping crickets. Intent on not leaving empty handed, gunshots pierce the silence of the neighborhood after coming face to face with a pair of teenage boys and their girlfriends who all draw weapons. The scene quickly turns to a bloodbath as the man known as Fat Black splatters the upper portions of Baptiste's accomplices on the wall, floor, and ceiling with a sawed off shotgun from close range. Taking a portion of one of the blasts, the would be victimizer stumbles backwards against the wall in the kitchen bleeding a trail from where he touches to where he falls. Fat Black walks over, kicks the gun Baptiste had dropped out of his reach, and picks up a hammer and a small flat-head screwdriver out of a toolbox next to the sink.*
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Baptiste: Yo I'm sorry man, come on
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Fat Black: OH, YOU'RE SORRY? I DIDN'T KNOW YOU WERE SORRY. I'M SORRY TOO. YOU'RE SORRY, I'M SORRY, WE'RE ALL SORRY. EVERYBODY'S SORRY.
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*Fat black sits on the floor against the wall next to where Baptiste was bleeding out slowly.*
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Fat Black: My boy don't get to be sorry. My nephew over there didn't even know he could be sorry. They were kids and you were more concerned with money.
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*Baptiste begins sobbing uncontrolably*
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Baptiste: Please man, I don't wanna die.
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Fat Black: And I didn't wanna kill you. Before you and your stupid ass friends busted in here and fucked ALL MY shit up, I didn't even know you. But you can't live now...I mean...you've killed people in my family. Who the fuck told you that's how shit works?
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Baptiste: Yo, nobody has to know shit. I'll just go. I won't say nothin.
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*Baptiste struggles to get to his feet prompting Fat Black to stand up and shove him back to the ground with his boot.*
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Fat Black: You're not going anywhere.
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*After tying him to one of the kitchen chairs and securing his extremities down to the digit out in front of him, Slim Wallace went to work. High pitched screams almost as loud as the preceding gunshots reverberated off the walls of the two family home as the small screwdriver was driven deeper and deeper under Baptiste's fingernails with each tap of the hammer. He stabbed him in the eye with a steak knife, drove several screws into each of his knees, scalped him with a pie cutter he heated up on the stove, chopped off the upper portion of his ear with a pair of rusty shears, and upon finishing with every finger except the pinky on each hand, he undid some of the restraints while consoling his torture victim.*
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Fat Black: It's ok, it's ok, you're ok now. You're gonna be ok.
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*Slim pulls a meat cleaver from a drawer and chops both of Baptiste's hands completely off before pouring whiskey on the stubs. Amidst the blood curdling screams emitted from the young man's mouth Fat Black manages a small snicker and a few words under an exhaughsted sigh.*
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Fat Black: I really didn't want to have to do this anymore.
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*A final blast from his sawed off puts an end to the commotion and the night air of the neighborhood refusing to call the police out of fear, was once again only filled with the sound of crickets.
Missouri was exactly as it sounds in the coming years for Slim, his brother and sister unable to cope with their loss and Slim's part in it, they shunned him and in doing so made his involvement obvious to the rest of their family from the group home they were raised in.
For three years Slim continued making his money by working under the shadow kingpin known as "Big" until the day came when his ambition exceeded his capabilities as a subordinate. After assembling a crew of naive young men and women loyal to him, Fat Black set out to rob and replace the man at the top. As had happened before, the head of the narcotics organization's home was raided and siezed by Slim and his soldiers. Leaving a bloody and grim scene in their wake they made way for their leader before entering the room "Big" was believed to be in. Upon entering, Slim realized the room was empty except for furniture, a desk with a small amount of coke and some lines laid out, and a television sat on a black metal roll-around stand with a camcorder poited at him next to it.*
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Fat Black: Leave the room.
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Joe: You sure? This could be a trap, it looks like one.
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Fat Black: I'm sure.
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*When he turns on the television, the grey haired weathered face of the man he'd only met once before was staring back at him while smoking a cigar. When he spoke, his stern and disappointed expression did not lose it's lustre.*
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Tony: I expected better from you.
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Fat Black: If you were expecting anything your men wouldn't be dead.
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Tony: They're not my men, they were yours. This isn't a fuckin cartel, it's a business. You think I got money? Go check the safe, it's behind you behind that stack of books.
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*Slim walks over to the book case and moves the only books on it stacked horizontally to reveal a combination safe.*
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Tony: Combo's 18-72-17
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*He turns the dial to the three numbers, turns the handle, and opens it to find one thousand dollars and an 8 ball of cocaine.*
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Fat Black: How have we been moving all this product if you got nothing to show for it?
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Tony: I learned a long time ago, the only use being on top has is to make sure no one else can be. Our stuff comes from a place that splits the profits between all the people who make it so nobody gets rich but they can live. I don't cut our shit so it stays pure, and the money I do make goes toward helping people. I donate and privately fund projects in the community. Water fountains, playgrounds, YMCA; shit like that. Everything else is just favors.
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Fat Black: You're lying, nobody does this for free. How do afford your life and all this shit?
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Tony: I told you, favors. I don't own nothing, and I have a job.
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Fat Black: If that's true, you're a fool. But either way I'll be seeing you soon enough to make sure.
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Tony: Mira, you think you're the first to try this shit? Every fuckin body wants to play God, nobody knows what it means. I'm not your boss hermano, I'm your landlord. You wanna leave? GO! Don't be surprised when you become the man you hate...if you don't catch a bullet first.
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*Tony turns off his camera and the screen goes black. Knowing him by reputation to be a man who stood by his word, Slim realized he was telling the truth. As he stood there alone by the bookshelf, he could only find a single word that burned as much on the way out as it did into his memory.*
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Fat Black: Damn.
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*Tony put out his cigar and picked up his glass of ice and lemonade.*
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Tony: Fuckin pendejo,you try to do for them and they keep fuckin everything up.
Frank: Is this one going to be a problem?
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Tony: Who the fuck knows!?
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Frank: The last time this happened I had to put your associates down for good.
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Tony: Sosa was a fuckin rat. This one had promise. Things are different now.
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Frank: Well, I'll do what I can to avoid things going that way, but if it comes to it...just work on finding new people.
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*Frank opens the door leading to the side of the bar but stops at the sound of Tony's voice.*
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Tony: Castle, why didn't you finish the job that day?
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Frank: You died, they didn't pay me twice.
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The Agents 2
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The Rise Of Fat Black - Part 2
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*Along the beautiful sun bathed coast of Bolivia, a village of favelas overlooks an ancient ruin reclaimed by nature and teaming with life and foliage. Fat Black had formed an alliance with some ambitious locals, who'd put together a large team of workers ready to clear the brush so they could raid and remove the stone structures. The plan was to use the land for coca and popeye fields despite the numerous warning from the elders of the village. Fat Black didn't care, his thirst for conquest too great to be warded away by superstition. Upon raiding the site for valuable artifacts, the team of workers came across something they couldn't make heads or tails of. At 23:00 hours they summoned Fat Black to La Botanica De Castanos to observe a glowing golden disc.
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Fat Black: That's an oroborus.
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Worker: Que eso?
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Fat Black: Usually it's a snake eating it's tail, but this one seems to be a dragon.
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Worker: How much?
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Fat Black: Couple grand, unless we find someone to appraise it, then it could be more but that costs money up front. Is that all you found?
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Worker: Nah, this was just interesting to me personally. What I really wanted to show you is inside.
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*The worker leads Slim past the lanterns and tents pitched outside, through the entrance hall lined with torches and lanterns, past the room where three men were sawing away at the braces holding a large golden idol in place. They Come upon a room with a large stone alter in the center and the worker turns around beaming with excitement.*
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Worker: This was the sacrifice room. Check out the hieroglyphs, they're like instructions on how the ritual was performed.
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Fat Black: You called me out here for this?
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Worker: The people they'd sacrifice would usually have personal affects on them; you know jewelery, ornamentations, trinkets n shit. But they weren't petty thieves so they gathered whatever they had on them once they were done and put it somewhere sacred.
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*The worker pushes the top of the alter and it slides open. When Fat Black walks around it to see what was inside his eyes grow wide with excitement. It was full of golden jewelry and decorative pieces, it was a real live treasure chest.*
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Fat Black: Why didn't you bring this out of here, you didn't need to leave it in here just to show me, we got work to do. What am I paying you for?
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*The worker snickers.*
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Worker: Cuz yo, none of us are touchin that shit. Do you see what's mixed in there? Those are human teeth and jaw bones. This is a mass grave of all the people who died here's shit. Those are pieces of them or the people they killed. Now we got what we wanted from the rest of the place but we figure fair is fair, this here is yours if you want it. If not we'll find a buyer. But I just figured we let you get a look so you can decide for yourself.
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Fat Black: I don't give a fuck, of course I want it.
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Worker: Yeah, well the elders told us what's happened to everyone who's come here thinking they could take what they want. I'm happy with what I got but if you want all that you're gonna have to haul it out yourself. They're all decided on how they feel about it and I can pretty much say the same. To be honest it kind of freaks me out being in here.
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Fat Black: Whatever, I'll take this piece right here for now.
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*As the boss slid the ring off of the skeletal finger, screams of agony are heard from outside. He drops both and the two men tear from the room. When they reach outside they see a bunch of men crowded around one laying on the ground motionless.*
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Worker: QUE PASO!?
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*A group of frantic men crowd around Fat Black's worker giving their accounts of what had taken place.*
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Fat Black: WELL?
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Worker: They said something big picked this dude up in it's mouth, tore a chunk out of him, and then took off into the woods.
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Fat Black: What do you mean something big? What the hell could've done that?
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Worker: They don't know.
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Fat Black: Aw hell no, VERNON! GET ME MY RIFLE!
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*Vernon yells back from off in the distance.*
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Vernon: THE BIG ONE OR THE LIL ONE!?
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Fat Black: BOTH!
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*Slim looks back at the worker named Jose.*
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Fat Black: Tell the boys we goin huntin.
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