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"This nigger plays a mean game," thought Bobby Fisher, as he eyed the squat Japanese man across the table. Fisher's defense had been breeched. However, the old Grand Master was far too engrossed in his plight against inequity to notice. His opponent awaited a reply. "Fools," Fisher tenderly mused as he fingered his bishop. A grin cracked the crust of his countenance as he broke wind and moved a piece into position. "Check mate!" cried the Japanese man, as he struck with deft rebuttal. Fisher stood up and cried, "tell those kikes I'm not going home!" The man genuflected curtly and left the cell. Fisher retired to the far corner, loosened his pants, and began crafting his ultimate repartee.

Date Written: September 26, 2004
Author: what
Average Vote: 0

10/4/2004 TheBuyer: okay so...uh...what is going here? Who won? Who farted? What going home? What's with the racism and yet absolutely no mention of Tyrone? Where are my pills?
10/4/2004 Litcube: Seriously, who farted?
10/5/2004 TheBuyer: what?
10/5/2004 Chance the Gardener: I don't get this one...