Sudetenland Tales by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview

Sudetenland Tales

Page 523

a volume of other assholes like them. No, up here, we don’t say a damn thing, but do what he have to. When we go out “hunting” we just tell our wives the truth, that we are going hunting, something we’ve done together since we could walk. And we always bring back good stuff to eat. See, killing the ni-hi-hi-hi-higgers doesn’t even take a full day, and we spend the rest of our time in the hunting grounds, killing edible animals that don’t smell like a skunk blowing chunks.

By the way, my intuition tells me that we are not the only “Five For One” club in existence. I can’t be sure, the virtue of smart White design. There have been a curious number of unsolved ni-hi-hi-hi-higger mass murders, which my group didn’t do, and are suspected by the police, who are seeking private citizen help, to be the product of rival ni-hi-hi-hi-higger gangs; thereby not a hate crime. That only happens when a White is reported as having said the magic word; “nigger.” First five, them ten, then twenty; on and on. Soon, Whites may be getting somewhere.

You might be thinking; “Watch your mouth.” But, in truth the only ones who can really watch their mouths are the big, bugga lipped ni-hi-hi-hi-higgers.

You may not see it, but I believe that there is justice; long term. It’s not anything about morality. It’s just the pragmatism