This is my last series of stories. Thanks for the people that read my stuff and hollered back. The character Jay is also featured in "The Adventures of Dr Knock-Boots."
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Chapter 1: The Emperor's Clothes
"What the fuck am I doing here?" Jay asked himself, feeling bored with his work colleagues, a bunch of yuppies, that he was having a drink with.
Jay, the 24 year old African was studying Business IT and Accounts. He was currently on attachment, with a prestigious, affluent firm in town, that had its fingers in almost every industry. The experience was causing him to brood a lot. He had always thought all he had to do in life was graduate with flying colors, land a high paying job, buy a house, maybe a couple of of cars, get married, have a couple of kids, and that would be that. However, he was not so sure now. Was that the true meaning of life. That was what his dad had told him, that was what the education system had tried to instill in him. That was what people, all over the world seemed to believe in and live for. However, Jay most definitely did not want to end up like these jerks that he was having a drink with.
Jay looked around at his yuppie colleagues, sitting in this fancy bar, drinking cocktails with fancy names and fancy prices, feeling so special. Jay felt bored as hell, but he could see that his colleagues were so proud of the firm, their jobs, their titles, their cars, their apartments, blah, blah, blah. In fact, they identified and defined themselves through those things. Even as they drank, conversation centered on the firm; recently posted profits, new appointments, expansion plans and firm gossip, like who was fucking who and who got divorced and who got caught fucking around.
What a bunch of bores, Jay thought. These guys didn't even have it as good as they liked to pretend. They were not dummies, like Kid Rock and Sylvester Stallone. Some of them were pretty smart. But they had sold not just the power of their bodies, but even the creative thoughts of their brains, the minute they signed their contracts. All their ideas were owned, by Seth Smith, their boss.
They couldn't just get up one day and say "Fuck you Boss, I quit." The firm would sue their asses and get them for every single dime. Furthermore, they were mortgaged up to their gills to afford all that shit they really didn't need. If they got funny and tried to quit, they would be kicked out of their houses and lose their cars, LCD TVs, expensive clothes, credit cards and all that other fancy that made them feel special. It would be repossessed and they would be dragged to court. Even their pretty wives and girlfriends would leave them. And their so called friends would just never call back. And without those things, these guys were nothing.
These guys were getting fucked big time, and they couldn't do fuck all about it, except pretend to be something special and important, and that they had it better than other people. They were like, my firm is better than your firm, my neighborhood, my town is better than yours, my state, my country, my party, my race, my this, my that. Bitch please!
No wonder people held on so tenaciously to all sorts of prejudices. A man who lies to himself will have no problem lying to someone else. And a man who lies about himself will have very little qualms lying about someone else. That was the reason why the News was nothing but propaganda, and Television was really tell-a-lie-vision. These guys were not even really looking for Osama, (and if you doubt it, go ask Biggie's Mama, (watch Biggie and Tupac, the documentary)
It was then that Jay realized what a baggage of shit the White Man had brought unto humanity. And the shit was major! He knew many Blacks, Latinos, Asians and the like, who were aspiring to be like these guys, like his colleagues. They were giving their best, to be welcomed and accepted by these guys. They wanted to belong to these "special", so called "leading men." A black man trying to be white and corny was a bitch, as far as Jay was concerned. But a white man trying to be something special, like these guys around him, now that was even worse than a bitch! This shit needed to be destroyed and rebuilt.
However, he really had no alternative to offer. Not yet at least. He couldn't say like, alright guys, we gonna do this and that and give these people happy, meaningful, satisfied lives.
Anyway, he wasn't even trying to be the Lord's only son. If he had to die to save the whole of humanity, he wouldn't do it, not freely. He rather grab an AK.47, take ten steps, turn and shot the first person trying to crucify him and make him some kind of a martyr, so they could build some churches around him, kick out people who couldn't pay their tithes and then go and kill, persecute and even rob whole lands in his name. There might have been a couple of people he was prepared to die for, but the whole of humanity, all these fools here at the table, and those out there, hell fucking no!
Failing to find a solution for all humanity, Jay decided to look for a solution for himself. He saw only two options, either get out of this shit completely, or gatecrash the dinner party where the people at the top sat. Hanging somewhere in the middle, getting fucked and fucking other people was just bullshit really. Fuck that!
Someone had once told him, "Everybody needs to suck a little dick and kiss a little ass here and there just to make it in this world." Jay was determined that if any dick sucking, ass licking and ass fucking was to take place, he would rather fuck them than let them fuck him.
As the yuppies around him kept going on with their "I am this, I am that, I got this, I got that, the firm this, the boss that, blah, blah, blah," Jay suddenly had a vivid fantasy of making these guys suck his dick and bend over to take it up the ass, right before their wives. That was part one, to show these guys that they were nothing special, just a bunch of cock suckers that were getting fucked up the ass. Part two would be about fucking these guys women, right before their eyes. They deserved better than these punks, pretenders and liars. They deserved a real man, who could fuck them good, take them all the way to heaven, and then bring them down to Earth and show them that heaven was a place to Earth, and his insatiable, big black dick held the key. Jay laughed at the shit his bored head was thinking.
As they saw the African's face crack into a smile, his yuppie colleagues thought he was feeling so good at being allowed to join their ranks. Little did they know that he had devilish plans for them, their mouths, their asses and their wives.
Jay drank to that.
Then he started thinking, damn! What is the point of fucking these guys. These guys were just rats. They thought they were all that, but they held no real power. The King, as in the Rich White Man, had the real cash and the real power. He even owned these guys.
Yeah, it was better to be sitting at the King's table, than to be the King of a thousand of these rats. At least, when he sat at the King's table, it would give him a chance to seduce the Queen. He would fuck the queen, whilst the King was running around, surrounded by his stooges and wannabes, enjoying the fan fare and pomp, bringing wars to other countries and stealing black gold.
Yeah, he'd fuck the queen real good and send her into a state of delirium. Then he would fuck her again, and again with his big, insatiable black dick, until she was addicted to it, and only desired to worship it, suck it, lick it and get fucked by it. Then with her assistance, he would depose that fake king, turn him into a cock sucker and a fag. Yeah, why not just fuck that king up the ass and put him in his place. And then he would take the King's place. Jay knew America was not ready to see black president, so therefore, he would let the King keep the limelight, but he would definitely get a piece of the cake.
Chapter 2: The Prince.
The King, as in Seth Smith, the owner of the company that they worked for, wasn't at the Table. But the Prince was. The Prince was David, 28 years old, handsome, smooth shaved meterosexual, with long, flowing blond hair, Michael Bolton style, and big, blue eyes.
