I’ve been told that if TRUMP WINS he will “turn back the clock” 400 years …
He will dredge up from our DARK PAST those miserable practices of foul and cruel men.
So I’m trying to be optimistic about it, and IMAGINEER a place for myself in this new SLAVE-MERICA!
I SHALL have a plantation in Georgia, near the sea. There’s gonna be a nice shack in back, hole in the ground at the center is where you (the African American slave) get to poop. There is no shower, but the kind rains of the south will wash your dusky physique as you toil in the soil and gather in my cotton for the mill. You won’t be happy here at first, but the hard work in the field as my ONYX SISYPHUS will ensure a good night’s sleep …
You won’t get a lot of sleep though …
The black man can work for days without sleep, he is STRONG and TALL and full of JIZZ-ENERGY. BUT … you have to keep him away from your white women, because his musk TRAPS their gaze and they are AMAZED by the size of his horse-like cock. White busty women will sneak out back to the slave paddock and allow that black buck to tear at them and rip open their boovulas. There are movies about this. Some of them are based on facts.
Look at the picture below …
This is you with your son or brother – does it really matter when it comes to black people? … any who, this is you and your uncle-brother harvesting French bulldogs for me, that I can then take to the China-man’s store off of 4th Street. The CHINKS cherish that fine brown meat, filled with splendor – and, side note, they’ll take a dying slave off your hands too, just don’t eat the pork fried rice for a few weeks.
You will work hard each day, but once every 5 years, on JUNETEENTH, I might give you a day off on the rope anchor – the large anchor that I attach you to, and it ain’t no rope, it’s chains. 200 feet of chain, attached to you, attached to a 10,000 pound ship anchor that I bought on EBay. The anchor is from a ship lost in the Middle Passage … monstrous.
The French bulldog trade is BIGGER than the slave trade, and many Frenchies are lost during shipment across the Atlantic to England and France and Italy. Sometimes a whole shipment of Frenchies get sick, and they are just tossed into the sea, like garbage. But Trump promises tariffs, so that should help.
YOU WILL BE OBEDIENT or FACE THE WHIP. Beatings will be furiously awful and frequent, you might feel like all I ever do is beat you, but come on – that’s just you having a bad day. In time you will call me MASTER DAN, and I will call you Rufus … Rufus number 4 … All my male slaves will be named Rufus. All of my female slaves will be called Susanna. You might see this as degrading, I consider it the necessary prerequisite to further dehumanization.
All of my SUSANA type slaves will be required to patrol my plantation ridding hippos and wearing only bikinis. They will spend half the day wrestling in steam pits and masturbating in the cornfield. They will be experts in KARATE and southern cooking and BBQ and seamanship.
Here is one of my SUSANA’S riding her hippo to WALMART to get me my beer and cigarettes. Mind you, don’t give her your credit card – the large jar of change is good enough for her and her lusty ways …
We will have a large sailing ship, and each year me and all my slaves will go on a junket, crossing the Atlantic … right through the middle of it. The name of the ship is the Callous, and some had thoughts on that as well …
On our annual sailing trip, the slaves will live below deck in inhuman rows, attached to the ship by chains and wire and steel. THIS WILL BE DISAPPOINTING for many, but nothing can be done.
When we get back from our first TRIP, things get messy …
Having plantations and slaves and sailing ships named “Callous” that you then load your “slaves” on to once a year in order to rub their nose in atrocities? – well that gets dangerously sexy …
Upon our third trip abroad, the SUSANA (number 13 I think) organized all the female field hands into rioting gangs of sweaty and scantily clad jungle style warrior bitches. They got some guns and swords and knives, and freed the RUFUS’ES …
THE RUFUS’ES went to the bar to drink and smoke cigarettes …
BUT …
SUSANA, being keen and alert and determined, she chased me through the night. From pasture to swamp to hillside, every time I looked back I could see her torches, I could see her rage.
When they finally caught up to me they took turns, tearing off my clothes, getting my cock hard, and swallowing my cock with their boovulas.
And that’s it.
That’s what’s coming if Trump gets elected on Tuesday.