Rent free with three squares Obama Washington lll had it good, upstate on his third felony conviction, doing three life sentences for triple murder. A man of stature satisfied with his life.
Obama III was happy until the prison went private sector/prison for profit and his perks started to disappear; the food started to taste like shit (and smaller portions), no more customer service, the guards stopped coming inside, and eventually all the doors except the front gate were unlocked. The authorities threw ever smaller quantities of chips, grape drank and toilet paper from the wall down into the yard, they wouldnât answer questions angrily shouted at them from the prisoners.
One day Obama was sleeping in his cell (a mans cell is his castle) when he was awakened by sounds of guards moving through the cell block, making noise and shouting abuse. The guards arrived at his cell âObama get the fuck up!â they abused. âListen good; this prison is being turned into Chinese condos as of five Oâclock todayâ
âWhere you transporting me?!? It better be to something beter than this!â Obama III cried incredulously.
âWe ainât takinâ yous no whereâs!â menaced one of the guards.
The guard captain said âFive Oâclock you gotta be outa here!â
âOut of here where!?! What you mean bro?â Obamas eyes were big as saucers.
The guard captain said âIâm gonna say this once more; Five Oâclock you gotta be outa here, were not moving you anywhere. You are no longer our responsibility.â
âBut Iâm a three time felon doinâ three life sentence for triple murder!â pleaded Obama, visibly shaken. The guards laughed at him and moved on. Obama got out of bed and stepped outside his cell and cursed after the guards âI ainât moving nowhere! Iâm staying right here. A mans cell is his castle! Fuck the Chinese!â
Afterwards Obama brooded in his cell, there was a lot of activity and the prison sounded like it was emptying out. That night the electricity shut off and the following morning there was no water in his sink and his toilet tank didnât refill. Obama III was mad at the world when Chinese security guards showed up at his cell. âNigger man, you get out now!â they shouted.
âWhere my âlectricy!?!, where my water!?!, where my egg and bacon!?! You chink bastards!â
âPrison close nigger man, you go now!â
âI ainât goinâ nowhere! I gottaâ a right to stay here for life baby!â
With that the Chinese security guards pounced on Obama III and beat him with bamboo rods. They broke his TV and his iPhone. Some of them held him down while a couple of others packed a small bag for him with underwear and a toothbrush. They then carried, pushed and prodded the screaming Obama III out of the prison and on to a waiting bus.
The bus drove south all day through the scary countryside and scary forests and by evening they had reached the city with its familiar garbage and graffiti, and soon after the projects of his old neighborhood. Things looked the same except for the barbed wire fences with armed guard towers that surrounded the neighborhood; it was more than slums, it had a prison vibe.
The bus approached an automatic gate with armed project cops. The gate rolled up and the bus drove in and pulled up to the curb. The driver got out of his seat and faced the passengers âOK, everybody outâ.
Obama III and the few other recent convicts moved forward. âTime for the ladiesâ he thought as he looked around his old stomping grounds and memories surged.
No sooner had Obama III gotten off the bus then he was up against a turn style at the entrance to the projects. âNigger you need a benefit cardâ said a fat black cop on a broken chairâ.
âNigger, you know I ainât got that shitâ retorted Obama III.
âThatâs right my nigger, you need to see the Jew at the pawn shopâ. The fat smelly guard pointed behind Obama III down the block to âSchlomos Government Pawn and Robot Shopâ.
Obama III shook his nappy head in genuine disgust and walked towards the beat up 3 story building. Smaller signs in the display window said âGet Your Benefits Card Hereâ & âWe have AAA Robotsâ.
âGibme my benefits nigger!â Obama III pounded the counter. Slowly Moshe Silverstein turned around to face the group of black gentlemen fresh from prison. He was dressed in a white shirt with ketchup stains, his dirty skull cap was off kilter and pinned to greasy hair. Moshe was a pasty gray color with big droopy lips and a giant hook nose. He was bent over from years of counting pennies. Mosheâs eyes burned with greed, he looked over the motley negroes, then became obsequious.
âHello boys, did you just graduate college? Hey hey he heeâ
âNever mind that shit motherfucker⊠Give us our cards! ⊠And whatâs this shit about robots!?!â
âIâve got some forms for you boys to fill out, no ID needed boys, a simple iris scan will insure true identityâ
Moshe scanned the shifty blacks eyeballs to get their true identity, so as to not waste time with hours of fake names. He gave them a pen and one by one they signed on the line 10 times each, for 10 different forms. Mosheâs eye never left the pen, which he retrieved with a claw like hand following the final signature. âHere are your cards, and there is the doorâ.
The boys were all anxious to get back to their welfare project apartments. âYou know, I had me 3 life sentences, I never expected to see home again!â The boys murmured in agreement, and the small group of dangerous black criminals approached the gate, benefit ID cards in hand. Swish in the slot, beep beep, and they pushed through the revolving gate back to the projects of their youth. Celebration time was coming up!
Daiquan who was the youngest freed criminal said âIâm gonna look me up my baby mama Sharkeisha. I was sentenced to 10 life terms for them murders I done; she sure ass gonna be surprised to see me!â Obama III headed off towards building #3 where he had lived his whole life when not behind bars, where all his baby mamas be.
âIâs gonna see my LeRonda, if sheâs not around, Iâll check my ho LaQuandeesha be available or that fat pig wife of mine Cunneleeza, she too ugly for no full time dudeâ.
Obama III surveyed the familiar dusty dirty projects; some of the trash piles had been there his whole life, homies played basketball, but there were differences; there were no little niggers and no baby carriages, then there were all these good looking well dressed niggers following the women around.
Obama III studied the menu on the benefits vending machine by the courtyard of building #3 where youths played basketball under the searchlights. He inserted his card, selected the picture buttons for chips and malt liquor and out they dropped into the receptacle.
Just then he looked and saw some of his old niggers crouched in the alley drinking malt liquor, they looked mighty down. âWhatâs up my niggers?!â
âYo Obama, you be out of dey jointâ
âThe Chinese kicked this nigger out! They be making condominiums and shit.â
Replied Obama III.
âYah we know, I got kicked out of my own prison cell too, they building gook Disney, now I back hereâ. complained one of the paroles named Latrine.
âYo, where the bitches be?â inquired Obama III.
âYou be finding out soon enoughâ was the ominous answer the huddling drinkers gave.
Just then a small overweight female with a big hooker wig wearing skin tight ghetto jeans appeared from building #3. Obama III thought he recognized her as LeRonda, his old bitch from the 13 floor. But who was that just behind her, the handsome strapping buck who fondled her ass with such un-African tenderness? He was very handsome, and he looked like⊠the old president Obama WTF?!? only bigger with muscles. He held the fucking door open for that bitch! Obama eye balled Obama. âMuch respect for my lady, I got some fried chicken coming your way.â Laughed the handsome nigger in an Africanized monotone. Well, if Obama had a son.
Obama III was numb nutted and dumbstruck as a nigger can be. He was about to yell at them when he saw another old flame approaching from the other side of building #3, LaQuandeesha. She was dressed in a pig top and skin tight ghetto jeans. She was followed by a tall handsome black man in expensive suburban mystic style clothes. âSomethingâs not right hereâ, thought Obama III. He took a long pull on his can of malt liquor.
âYo nigger! Whap up?!? LaQuandeesha, what you doinâ with this fine ass uptown nigger? He too good for you baby!â quipped Obama III as he violently waved around his chips and malt liquor.
âObama baby when they let you out?â
âThey didnât let me out! The fucking Chinese kicked me out of my home, they sent me here on the back of the bus. Howâs about you and me getting back together? Get rid of⊠That nigger he look famous like he⊠he look like black Jesusâ.
âMuch respect for my lady, I got some fried chicken coming your way.â Laughed the black Jesus nigger in an Africanized monotone.
âThat right motherfucker! Black Jesus and heâll fuck you up. Out of my way Obamaâ jabbered LaQuandeesha as she waddled past Obama III followed by her handsome black man far too godly to be with someone like her in the projects.
Obama III was too shocked to move and just stood there as his smelly fat wife Cunneleeza came out of the building, proceeded by odor, uglier than ever, followed by a tall handsome muscular black man who strongly resembled Martin Luther King Jr., he was saying some bedroom talk about fried chicken and she giggled.
HoNo! All 3 of his ex-bitches had good looking clean cut, clean living black men. Much better than them Hos deserved.
They all ambled up to the benefits vending machine at the same time, the good looking black men trailed back a couple of feet. LaQuandeesha got there first and apparently got the last can of malt liquor. The yelling and shoving started, the good looking boyfriends just stood by as the ladies battled, punching and kicking, yanking out hair extensions and pulling off hooker wigs. âGibme that fucking malt liquor bitch! You know itâs mine!â
âAaaaah!â
âNo nigger No!â
They was dragging each other around by the head, swinging wildly when they smashed into the Black Jesus boyfriend who flew through the air into the electrified razor wire; crucified!
The electricity sizzled and popped and Black Jesus sparked and burned, but his black flesh didnât burn; for he had no flesh, he was pullies and wires, batteries and transistors, gears with lube not blood, his big black head pealed open and had a circuit board instead of a brain. Black Jesus was a robot!
The bitches stopped tussling and LeRonda spoke first âThis shit is defective! They no malt liquor and your nigger got burnt up.â
âTime to go to the government store and give that Jew a piece of mind!â snorted out LaQuandeesha as she picked up a severed and smoking robot leg.
The ladies turned and marched out the gate, swiping their benefit ID cards to open it. Beep beep, Beep beep, Beep beep. The 2 remaining good looking black boyfriends didnât move, they just froze in place.
âThey must also be robotsâ thought Obama III. He downed the rest of his malt liquor and ate his remaining chips in one mouthful and keeping in the shadows, he followed the bitches out of the projects.
Obama III using his burglar skills moved off to the side, where he could see without being seen and observe without being observed. He watched the she boons out front waving their arms, and through the side window he saw the bent over Jew bobbing up and down over his bent bible THE PROTOCALS OF THE ELDERS OF ZION. Moshe was praying to his god, his face screwed up with demonic pleasure.
When the bitches got close to the store they started yelling and shit âMoshe, you god damn Jew, you giving us defective shit!â LaQuandeesha threw the severed leg of the black Jesus robot through the display window. The glass shattered and the alarm went off.
âWe gonna holocaust your assâ added LaRonda.
Out rushed Moshe âladies, ladies, no need to get feisty here, remember, the government is here to help youâ. He was making calming gestures.
âMoshe, that fucking machine done run out of malt liquor! Why donât it never run out of chips?!? Why is it always the fucking malt liquor? Motherfucker!â
âMoshe! My boyfriend got electrocuted and shit, I gonnaâ sue your ass!â
âCome inside ladies, and watch the broken glassâ replied Moshe with oily charm. âThe malt liquor truck will be by tomorrow. Tonight, in the mean time I will give you some kosher wine to take back when you leave, as for your boyfriend, we have a replacement here I think youâll like⊠Come out James Earl Jonesâ.
The ladies Ooowed & Aaahed, as the most handsome black man came out of the closet. âSign here, riot insurance will cover the broken window.â LaQuandeesha signed with relish.
Obama III couldnât take it any longer, he left the shadows and burst through the door. âAha! Caught you!â he exclaimed. Obamaâs accusing glance went from each to each; 3 ghetto Hos and a Jew. âYou fuckinâ robots! You wonât fuck a brother but you fuck a robot!â
Cunneleeza, wise as she was smelly said âObama, you got to calm your ass down. This is the way of the times, once you fuck robot, you ainât goinâ back to no regular niggerâ she explained.
Obama III turned his attention to the government Jew. âThey make girl nigger robot?â
âCertainlyâ replied Moshe Silverstein.
âWell here my benefit card, sell me one that look like Kardashian niggerâ.
âSorry, no can do friendâ whistled back Moshe, hiding a grin.
âWhy not Nigger!?!â Obama III rolled his eyes, then cocked his head, indicating a readiness to strike.
âBenefit cards only buy sex robots for negro females of child bearing years, they are meant to discourage black procreation.â
âOh yeah!?!â shot back Obama âWell unless I get me a free gibme sex robot myself, Iâm gonna go back to the projects and make a lot of black babies!â
They all laughed at his impotent rage, his 3 former Hos and the Moshe the government Jew.
Itâs funny how things work out; 3 squares and his own cell with gibmes, everything would have been fine without the Chinese fucking it up. Obama III was beat by the system, he would never again sire any baby niggers. He would have to be nice to Moshe the government Jew, he would have to learn his place.
Obama swallowed his pride, ambled shiftless through the searchlight back to the alley where his fellow displaced black males drank malt liquor and dreamt of the old daysâŠ
THE END
