Inglorious Impostor Presents: The Astonisher's Return

Blacking Out of the Charade

And we are... Black and live! Black Nigg (oops) Night Live, or BNL for short. I mean, who doesn't love to be broadcasted to television in certain channels (ahem, the cynical yet manipulative FOX news and causer of breaking news, for that matter), along with being overly-enthusiastic and-and using frequent hand gestures and throwing up gang signs and flipping the bird. Phew! I'm already getting tired, why don't you write something audience? Why does it always have to be me? Is it because I share laughs with Quentin Talentino reason being that he tries to act like he's black? Or maybe because Django Unchained is about a man fighting back for his woman, who has been subjected to unthinkable/diverse acts of violence, is just another date movie for both Rihanna and Chris Brown? Do you think Donald Trump's face looks like he smelled a fart? Lastly, is it because Django frequently uses the N-word and that the screenplay has the possibility of being based off of Mel Gibson's voicemails and text messages? Yes, yes it does. I will continue to advocate both Gibson's rants and Talantino's work (who knows, maybe it's a fascination) with rising and descending unsuccessful black actors. With that being said, [throwing up gang signs to signify that I fear blacks who either suffer from severe paranoia (or so it seems) and/or the average five o' clock shadow on both the face and sidewalk,'along with Mexicans who attempt to do the same and fit in. You know, there may be and underlying relationship that is yet to be discovered, similar to our racial history and that I do not want to be shot and killed, as with 2Pac and Cosby's convictions of either drugging and having yadda with women or senselessly beating other people up with a baseball bat and beginning the downfall of society and future generations by exposing them to such blacksplicit content and brainwashing them into something much worse than what we already have as of now. A quick shout out to BritishExterminator . Ahh, I see that you retained the theme of my ever-evolving-yet to-be-successful-hit by implying that you dislike the cracker jack people often abbreviate as both pricks ( sorry, the charcoals), dicks, wankers (different definitions, not the organ but a British profanity and being idiotic. Again, blacks.), and Brits.

Jesus fried rice, illegal Mexes or the nexus/dawn of another bad president ( Nixon, maybe or another black president, Obama's cool though, or mexi or an ape). I have been quite irrelevant recently and I apologize in advance to those wanting a quality narrative. Uhh, on that note, I will now commence where we last left off with the newly reunited slaves. A quick side note, wouldn't you agree that the southern scientist being a whole gig kinda sucked? More racism= more momentum. R.I.P. The Southern Scientist in Kokomo. 1862-2020 (in our hearts, sniffles and guffaws). Acne...teenagers...Dopeheads...edgy...school...ineffective solutions to bullying and hurtfulness...stupid discipline methods...err...[care to elaborate?] Alright, 3,2,1, here we go ( not zooming in a ship through our favorite rocketship)!

Black, (giggled), woke alongside white trash ( not the ones you see at hockey tournaments and baseball stadiums and on beer and restaurant commercials) in the laboratory. "What... Ha-ha-ha-happened?", Black asked himself, apparently experiencing some sort of hangover with a mind-exploding headache that felt as if though severe blunt trauma is being directed to your skull repeatedly, along with blurry vision (nearly blind) and very, not just, red eyes and a nostalgic-inducing figure looming over the both motionless and paralyzed/dead body. "Hey Blackuddy. Uhh... Your probably wondering why I'm here and stuff. Allow to explain.", said Boob. "Save it. Somehow, you got into my head and that explained enough. Get me some pain killers, marijuana, and Coke. I'll be fine. No diet. Additionally, I'd also like to request that you shoot yourself in the chest with a sub machine firearm without seeking medical attention for a couple of hours so as to experience the betrayal and discoloration of the skin that I had to go through.", suffered and solemnly and independently said Blackjuana. Rob did as he was told and pulled an unlicensed gun out of his pocket [employees within shouting for their lives and trying to leave the vicinity and contact the DMV. Jeez, we get it. It's a black guy. Ohh ahh. Shocking.]. Just then, Rob shit (also a debate acronym, honestly typed that in by accident but decided to go with it anyway; pushing the boundaries and stuff)/shot himself in the heart, in between the arch of aorta and superior vena cava, therefore causing both loss of blood, blockage, and irreparable damage and did the same with one of the white hostages, therefore causing mass panic and havoc and a white robber to come in all the while. "Dats what you get fo' be-be-be-being white.", incoherently mumbled and stuttered and echoed Rob with an unusually high-pitched effeminate voice, similar to Princes'. "How'd you get into my head?", asked Jack Black. "Well................................ I was reinforcing blunt trauma into your ears ["Haha"] and shouting into that hollow head of yours.", Rob whispered, losing tremendous amounts of green "Predator" blood yet somehow managing to talk. "Then why'd you say I was dead?", Black asked. "What are those and deez nuts (not saying it like a white person of course. All high-pitched and nasally and quivery and whatnot. Yuck!)? But uh.. In all seriousness, I thought you were and at the time, I was talking to one of our kind, making and exchanging a product called the same thing.", Rob replied. All of a sudden, the room went into hush mode/silence/tranquility/stuff I prefer when studying and sleeping. It was the girl (" Haha. Shorty.") that married Rob and aided in their escape from the island of Wakka Derka (That's all I remember. I honestly forgot, refer back to lengthy previous chapters. Ohh! It's Cinnamon or Uganda, U or Cinnamon for short. Can't believe it.). "Who the [bleep, haha, Jerry, Jerry] is that?!", she (yes, I'm using the pronoun with a purpose) said. Furthermore, since you, specifically the audience as a whole, don't want to show your support by liking and viewing ALL of my chapters and leaving simple comments contains suggestions, I WILL NOT (EMPHASIS) write a chapter for a long duration of time but jksdgahj and I won't go back and revise this, or any other chapter for that matter, in search of any grammatical/spelling/typical errors or even worse: another chapter. Yeah! Giggity, Giggity, goo! Got you there, huh? That's what I thought. Enjoy the torture. What a shame, and I was just getting to know you all ( or as you would prefer, ahem, "yeet!") . It's your choice, act now or I'll get Bill Cosby to come after you and the Scooby-Doo mystery solving gang black together and reunited to investigate this case, hoping that they aren't in retirement, of course ( and it all depends on how many people Cosby targets and drugs, thereby causing me to insert an "s"). Ahh, remember the good old days with Hanna-Barbara? The Flinstones and Jetsons, Hong Kong Phooey and a boatload of other shows. Ahh, fond and warm memories take me back. It just makes me feel both sad and joyous when thinking back at these greatest hits in cartoon history and what happened to television as of right now ( i.e ALL of Disney channel, Teen Titans Go, Reg Show is alright but the rest just creeps me out or is just plain stupid and predictable and pretty much pointless). Man, Dexter's Laboratory, the older Spongebob seasons, Rugrats, old Fairly Odd Parents, etc. Wow, nostalgic moment. Powerful stuff to inhale, you know?. 'Course you don't, wouldn't expect much. I mean, nowadays, you have all these remakes and whatnot. It's cliche and repetitive. Wouldn't you say so yourself? Additionally, continue to show your support ( likes, views, comments at the far most) and in return, I'll reimburse you with my destructive ways ( another humorous chapter, keep doing what your doing with that like button and stay tuned. By the way, all those likes were from me, which sucks. View and like people, view and like! It's not that difficult, for some or those idiots yes, I'll make an exception there but either you take my way or the dark alleyway, which isn't the safest route in the game of life) . Anyway, it's your call America, your call. It's like the Walking Dead, only we're talking about two protagonists that are African-American and infecting society with random acts of violence, prison itself and its escapees, and, as a theory, spreading AIDS because "they" weren't brought up to not produce offspring's of their own, promoting welfare and sucking on the thick blood of America by wasting that money. Poor U and America, but hey, why should that stop us from saluting the flag and being unaware of domestic surveillance and the NSA?