It was the crack of dawn, and I stood, eagerly awaiting my chance to snag the newest edition of Cold Blooded Rapists; the most anticipated of all video games since Clack Clack Boom!. So anticipated, in fact, that it was necessary for me to pitch a tent and sleep out for a mere spot in line. But since God needs entertainment, aside from the 77 virgins, he occasionally calls upon me to provide it. He knows that in this day and age, amidst all the live-and-let-live, hippie bullshit, there is at least one person with the ca hones to take and protect what is rightfully his, at any cost. And that is why things unfolded the way they did.
You can imagine how upsetting it was to hear that the snot-nosed, wigger kid immediately in front of me was destined for the store's final copy. I wanted to rip the braces out of his mouth, smelt them into tin foil, and then force him to chew on it until the damage canceled out the progress made. So, as the disgruntled line behind me exited in a huff, I kept composed, knowing I could remedy the situation. Examining the K-Fed wannabe in front of me from head to toe, I attempted to devise a strategy for fucking up the shithead's day.
My cue was given when the dumbfuck dropped his slim shady flatbrim- the dude should have stayed at his suburban two-floor abode, jerkin' to that girl in his grade with boobs. So I picked the lid up and ran to the restroom to do what I do best: poop on things. And though I had not eaten in a considerable amount of time, I managed to produce a few small, brown nuggets. Nothing to write home to bitch ma about, but it got the job done. So, with a slightly heavier hat in hand, I walked back to the line 5 minutes before the stores opening, and dumped the dump-filled hat where I had found it.
The sudden eruption of cheers indicated that the doors had opened. It also meant that homeboy was in for a surprise. A flood of emotions ran through me when he swiftly placed the cap atop his head; emotions only experienced as a result of vindication or self-satisfaction. The immeasurable joy I felt when the idiot realized that it was not a melted Hershey bar sh-lopping around in his hair was only surmounted when the pussy started crying. Knowing full well he could no longer be seen in public due to the unfortunate mishap, the wittle piggy went "wah wah wah" all the way home. And as for me, I was pillaging, raping and killing innocents with my avatar in no time.