A place where black was banned.
It had become a dirty color.
Pol Pot got rid of those with glasses.
Frank Russel banished the darkies to the deserts of Mars.
They weren't welcome here.
They only took.
Even the primates were pissed off with them.
'They fucking think we are bush meat,' said one Gorilla, at a nature reserve in the Congo.
'Worse still,' said another Gorilla,' they are fucking primatives with steel wool hair and big fat bubble asses.'
It was agreed by the gorillas that any black humans seen roaming the jungles for bushmeat, would be hogtied and eaten.
For some reason, everyone felt sorry for the Africans.
You had to give it to Idi Amin, 'who dat?' who didn't tolerate any upstarts who wanted to unsettle his thrown.
He knew how Africans really were.
The lowly birthed scum who was born in a rubbish tip had ambitions of being the Prime Minister, thought Idi, 'and it ain't happening on my shift.'
Africans were migrating around the globe.
No one dared say that they contributed to 99 percent of greenhouse gases.
'They fucking cook with coal when they have sun 365 of the years,' said one social commentator who was president of 'Black Lives Have a Dark Stain.'
Mars, what a perfect place for the black race, where they could fuck each over freely without any inference from the whites.
'Just what they wanted, and what they get,' said Max, who told me that Elon Musk's super ships were taking off.
By about this time next year, he said, 'most of the blacks will be relocated to Mars to fend for themselves'
