Cleavont Lil Jr

My name is Cleavont 'Lil Jr., Son of Cleavont 'Lil. I am the son of whitefolk, but through treacherous sodomist acts I am a raceless faceless portrait of purely wild delinquency. White power. The story of Cleavont began humbly in the filthy slums of food storage rooms. Musty halls of foodstuffs peppered with rat traps and crushed maggot carcasses. Cleavont remembered those days well, tittering about with longing glee, disgusted at the insidiously greasy notions he more than entertained. Cleavont began toiling in these types of establishment at the ripe, lithe age of fifteen. Without warning, he plunged headlong into a bizarre, spastic world of inconceivably terrifying moral transformation. ******s. Everywhere. He was the 'Lil Nigga. Perfectly square bags of crinkly plastic populated with powdery green specks, brandished in brown palms. What could it be? And the rotund women, how they giggled and grimaced at Cleavont, an obviously disturbed but relentlessly endearing chap who delighted at the handful of dingy nickels he accrued for brushing half eaten foods into trash cans. Young Cleavont was bewildered by cultural reality. Raining down on his white, unwrinkled forehead in pandemonious mayhem were all forms of vices awaiting the carnal gratification of a bad choice, as his superiors labeled them. Stay away from the n*ggers. The chemicals they brandished, the oil-slick drug jargon. Cleavont knew which way to go.