A True Story Which Really Happened And Is Not Fake
Last week, I was preparing my house for a visit by my beloved nephew. When he showed up, he was in tears.
“What’s wrong, dear nephew?” I asked him.
“Some big kid stole my favorite Pokémon card!” he sobbed.
“Was the kid a black?” I asked, the righteous anger already rising in me.
“Yeah,” he replied.
“Good,” I said approvingly. “You understand that theft is borrowing plus power, so it would not have been stolen if a white kid had taken it, right?”
“Yes, I understand that, Uncle,” said my nephew. “Now can we do something about it?”
I said that we sure would and then we got into my Apache helicopter, which I’d bought to replace my Ferrari after it was stolen by blacks. We took off and I flew towards the nearest black neighborhood.
“The black kid who stole my Pokémon card wasn’t in that neighborhood,” said my nephew suddenly.
“Yes, but all blacks benefit from theft culture,” I explained. “That means they’re all responsible for it. Now, man the gun!”
It was then that we flew into the black neighborhood. I immediately began firing my CRV7 rockets and Hellfire missiles at every black person I could see. I tried to avoid damaging property too much because much of it was probably stolen white property. Meanwhile, my eight-year-old nephew proved adept at killing the blacks with the M230 chain gun. All the blacks ran screaming from us in terror like the cowards they were!
“What did we accomplish today?” I asked my nephew as we landed back at my house.
“We taught blacks not to steal!” he said and I was so proud that he truly understood social justice!