the original unaired pilot

i took out a mixed gang with a wiffle-ball bat in my backyard. it was a battle.

what it is that means the story is;

there is a coveted patch of grass on my back lawn where, it is believed, that the nigger-spick-nazi jesus was born. his father, carl lewis, shit him out after taking shots of grain alcohol and injecting finely pureed locust bodies into his blood stream. the mixed gang worships the nigger-spick-nazi jesus.

the mixed gang wanted to claim their sacred patch of lawn. they are called a mix gang because they are composed of many races. primarily black males and south american females. but there are also wiggers and wicks... that new breed of whities that want to be spicks. they envy that latino swagger. there were also some afghanies, some irish people, some disillusioned white guys from nebraska, a very mixed bunch, but they are able to come together because they know that they love the nigger-spick-nazi jesus. in fact they have a ritual that is much like christianity's communion. in each one of their worship temples there is a statue of carl lewis in a doggystyle position (hips over knees, shoulders over hands). when it is remembrance time they go up to the statue and kiss the distended birth canal that is replicated on each likeness. there is room for artistic interpretation... the sculptors just have to be sure to get across that a nigger-spick-nazi messiah was jettisoned out of that ass. gruesome, yet pristine... in the holiness way. like mary giving birth as a virgin... in a barn. imagine getting your cherry popped by your first born child on hay with a donkey licking up the serous fluids that ensue... whoa

so

i would say there were about 200 mixed gang members that came to challenge me for control of the 3x6 patch of grass, plot of land.... whatever the fuck.

when they arrived i was juggling a bouncy ball, a red marble-works base piece (where the marbles collect in the basin after their journey), and a wiffle-ball bat. because the odds were against me... i chose to use the wiffle-ball bat as a weapon. i didn't have time to get to the hose, it would have been so easy to anti-protest those minority asses with a hose... rich united states traditions flew through my mind-brain and i just started swinging on the darker skinned than i's. the battle raged. i danced and wiffled their skulls. i hit temples and knee caps exclusively.

i won. i believe in the real jesus. and he kept my shit straight. the nigger-spick-nazi jesus is not for real. god's son. jesus christ. is for real.

and after it was all over i violated the unconscious women. because non-believers ain't even worthy of organism status. it was basically the same as sticking my penis in a coffee mug that had a wet hand towel and some lube in it. ain't nothing wrong with that.