October 11, 2024

Senator Solomon Lowenstein is delighted when he finds out that his bill is approved to further ruin America with a re-settlement camp in rural Aransas for 20,000 professional starvers from Africa. His father Abraham, murdered for his beliefs so long ago would be very proud to see this.

The “poor disenfranchised innocents” are in transit already, and will be housed in the recently re-appropriated vacant Billings Military Installation. After the usual debriefing, they will be turned loose on the public to spread their genetic poison.

Daryl Johnson is reading about these developments in the morning paper and says to his wife Bonnie,

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful to nail that globalist cocksucker, but to first see the look on his face just after killing all his savages with one large non-nuclear blast”

Bonnie says,

“Just try to enjoy your breakfast. It’s going to be a long day.”

She knows that Daryl is a serious man, and doesn’t try to argue with him about politics. She doesn’t approve of the camp either, but like most women, can’t appreciate the clean simplicity of destroying an enemy rather than trying to remake their souls. Most men feel that is not their job.

As he sips his coffee. Daryl is planning something in the back of his mind already. It will take three weeks to get the electric components for the time lapse detonator, nothing fancy, but never in stock at the local hardware stores. He has the needed skills, will do the job alone, and has no intention of telling Bonnie or anybody, including Walter Durrant who does share his viewpoints, and with equal intensity.

October 16. 2024

Four African men have slipped out of the military facility for a little night life. They are hiding in bushes at the edge of town.

Sally MacKay, a very shapely cute nineteen-year-old waitress is off work, walking home. She and Paul Donnelly, a twenty-five-year-old lumberjack, are very much in love, planning to marry soon, and will have two children

Zumbasa says to each of his group, pointing in sequence by age, starting with himself,

“Cheif Z go first, then you, you, you.

Understand and agree?”

The others nod agreement.

As Sally walks past, Zumbasa slips up and out of the woods, then quickly behind her, puts one arm around her neck, with the other hand over her mouth. She struggles, but he gets her back to the clearing behind the bushes. They tie her down and gag her. Then, one at a time, they rape her.

When they finish, Zumbasa, takes a rock and smashes Sally’s face eight times until she is all but unrecognizable, and says,

“How you like that, white bitch? You not so proud now, are you? …hah, at least you get to have some real man.”

Sally knows what is going to happen next, and sobs in disbelief, that her young life should so soon come only to this.

Zumbasa takes out a stolen steak knife, looks up to the sky, and says,

“In the name of the Great Master Damballa, I forgive you your sins,”

Then he cuts her throat. The friends carry Sally’s body to the Plume River nearby and set her adrift. Zumbasa throws the knife way out into the river, and they hurry back to the facility before anyone misses them.

Sally washes ashore one half mile away and is found early the next morning by dogs, who start barking to attract people. Police forensics is presented with a smorgasbord of evidence showing that Sally was attacked by four men of African descent. Most of the Negro males in the local area are quiet, clean living farmers, and nobody can think of even one, let alone four, suspects among them.

At the diner, Sally’s employer, Joe Hufton,

“I’ll bet it was four of those imported Africans at the Billings encampment.”

Everybody in town is thinking the same thing.

The police visit the compound and ask all the appropriate questions. One of the supervisors comes forward saying that last night, on a small matter of paperwork, he had gone looking for a boy named Gintango.

As it turns out, he is the youngest of the four who slipped out. They arrived back about ten minutes after the paperwork inquiry, and Gintango was told that the supervisor was looking for him. He found the supervisor, apologized, and made a plausible sounding excuse about indigestion in the men’s room, but to the supervisor, seemed much too nervous. The police want to talk with the young man.

When Gintango sees them coming, he reacts like a trapped insect, and runs crazily here and there, but there is no place to go. He is easily subdued by the police, and in blind panic, blurts out everything.

“I do nothing, Zumbasa kill her. I do nothing.”

Zumbasa is on the upper bunk, and calls out,

“Liar! You boy, not man!”

Zumbasa slides down, pulls another steak knife, and cuts the boys throat so quickly that the police can scarcely believe their eyes. Now Zumbasa snarls and brandishes the knife menacingly at the police, slicing the top of one officer’s wrist. Three policemen clear leather and shoot Zumbasa all at the same time.

Our local syndicated branch of the controlled media reports the matter thusly.

‘Today the police were asked to investigate the possible escape of four soon-to-be African American ctizens from the old Billings Military Facility. Three trigger happy white officers surprised one of the refugees in bed and gunned him down without even a hearing. It is alleged that the man may have been carrying a knife. Also, there is mention that another of the refuges may have been killed, but there are no details on that yet.”

Senator Lowenstein has the inside dope on what really happened, but never discusses such things with his wife. Now he is watching the TV news version of it all while enjoying a late breakfast,

“So some shiksa waitress gets her throat cut. For this, a firing squad of three? What next, Auschwitz for all Negros? Where’s my coffee?”