"The Black and The Gold"

"The Black and The Gold"

Author: Sheree Rabon
Create Date: December 12, 2010
Fiction
Dramatization of Reality

Preface

Think twice before stepping into the black and gold hole where souls sink perilously. “Hot as Hell “is synonymous to the rancid roots of Grambling, Louisiana. That inferno surely scorches deeper than meets the Great White Tiger’s eye. A dastard era prowls its feline litter when backs don’t arch to the beat of hellacious and notorious drums. Only the female canine species can survive there, of course after many lumpy lap dances. The famous Gram Station train still packs its’ tracks where the sun rarely shines unless in the astute innate position of the female canine, of course. Many of the dwellers stand contentedly as such there.

The rest just have to do their best. Many know to watch what is said and to whom, or do they? Some will close eyes, plug ears and steer clear to witness no evil. Some are so mislead, ignorant to reality, misinformed by their leaders will be blindside by the wrath that will assemble in clear view. However, many will forget about the dark wholes they dug for others and get buried knee deep and alive. Everybody can see the brown stains on the kisser’s noses. They don’t understand that hell hath no fury but they will.

Complacency will shadow days as black as the night of their self-righteous minds as they stand by and say nothing at the public lynching’s ring side. Gossipers will hear of the truth. They will try to tell it but gossip listeners will only hear another fantastic tale and fail to tell what truth there is to finally be heard.

Finally, the reporter of choice by the leaders, Deja McDonnell, will attempt to spread the looming news of Machiavellian anarchism but to no avail. Everyone understands that she is a sell-out to the struggle of women-lest we not speak of the fact that she too is a minority. Her viewers will have known by now that she has only fallen gratuitously to her knees on fallacious duty calls for the sensationalism. She has only been sprinkled and filled with the unholy ghost of ‘streaming media chats’ and guided mishaps on big black microphones.

Say “Aaah," Deja. Surely this sigh will be much louder when the fat lady sings. Women, especially African American women, wasted their time fighting for wiggers like so that don’t ‘breed love’. So long to 'give back'. The irony is that many of the decendents' ancestors fought from the very small town Deja slanders. She slanders the very fiber of what women's rights are about. What breeds made love and so screwed her up nine months later? Rouged knees and big black microphone will sum this story up.
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Will Deja be able to report when the blackened souls come marching in? Will she be able to report her own trial when the citizens wake up and smell the manure on the scenes she arrives at? Will she attempt to run some place to ‘breed love’ instead of the hatred and lies she’s fed her entire viewing area? Will she run for Colvin for cover? More mysteriousness in Louisiana to come, it seems. Could there already be a part two?

Caveats deeper than the Seafood Capital’s turbulent Gulf are imminent when blackened fish haunts the fattest black cats in town. Political poles fly high and land deep alas as many colons expose malodorous tales of wickedness. The prey will bend knees to pray as they dwell in the hell they have paved for another. Spiritual warfare awakens dank Dirty South secrets that only God Himself can pardon.

Bête noire is proud of the evil that lurks anew in the infamous ‘Bible Belt.’ Richer than the cotton picking heritage of authentic Louisiana cuisine, hotter than its salty sauce, as roux is to Gumbo, the big black diabolical pot of requite souls thickens. Beware of "The Blackened Soul Mine".

When the Blackened Souls raise the real dirty south hell, the sum of the bodies will reek across the nation and abroad from the small town of Grambling.