Nivedita

My cellphone played the National Anthem, announcing my friend George. He sounded furious, and raged for about an hour on the phone. Can you come to your conclusions, George, I asked. I need to shit really hard now, and the battery of my phone is almost empty.
Ok, ok John. Sorry to say this, but there's a nigger going for presidency of our United States of America! A nigge... -bleep-...

Not completely conscious I repeated George's last words in my mind. A nigger for president. One of these people we brought into this great country to serve us, not the opposite. Shit, I forgot to go to the toilet and messed my pants.

Now I understood why George was shouting for so long on the phone, he could not understand. The White House is called White House for something. It symbolizes the great power of white people. Black people do not belong in there. Something has to be done to stop this, but I needed more information.

Off course Nivedita should know more about this issue. She is not completely black, but dark enough to be involved in this complot, were dark people try to take over the United States in their advance. I decided to use some approved interrogation techniques learnt in Vietnam to question her. Not much came out of her. First some vomit, then a name: Barack, followed by lots of blood.

The Indian slave did not move anymore. At least I spared this great country from Nivedita going for president, but we still had the black problem. And I was going to spend some time without sex.