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‘The Sway’
A Checkered Demon Confederate Tale: Dubois, Wyoming, in recent, Post-Apocalyptic Times

“Nothing says prick like a Prius. Oddly enough, they’re not a bad car. It just attracts a certain kind of person.”

-The Checkered Demon

I travel the west now. I can no longer navigate in the South. The people have become so debased that you cannot leave your wife or your valuables in your house. Because the blacks will note your absence, take everything that is not nailed down, and then do God knows what. The culture is utterly debased—no longer a thing to recommend it.

I was travelling through Dubois, Wyoming and I witness this most unsettling sight.

Three Prius sissies, male vaginas, are escorting this large black woman, whose face was possessed of the most sour expression.

She had the sway, they were holding doors for her. One even held the door for me.

She was in her late twenties, about an 85 Z-cup, she had that lower lip pooched out and you could tell the world generally had her pissed off. She looked like she came right out of New Orleans and had not shed that ugly attitude which has continued to render such places uninhabitable for decent folk. It was the last thing I was looking for.

Dark complexioned?

She was black as a shoe!

These feminine men fawned upon her as if she were the queen of some wretched nation and I went bemusedly about my way.

Rubbing Out Palefaces

Moral Minority Survival at the End of Caucasian Time Paperback

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