“Are you sure you wanna do this, baby?” “Of course! I have never been so sure of anything in my life!” “You really feel this way?” “Of course, I do!” “I now pronounce you husband and wife!” “What the fuck?!” Raves screamed at me. I had been banging this broad for the past few weeks before graduation. I was only 18 and didn't
know my ass from a hole in the wall. But what I did know was that I liked fucking this chick. She was hot. Looked like Pam Grier in “Foxy Brown,” but with a bigger ass. She never got tired of having sex and I never got tired of getting it. But my boy Tucker hated her.
“She is not a part of our plan, man!” he would say. “She isn't anything but a distraction from our true goal: As many women as possible!”
“But I love her!” I would say.
“No, you love fucking her,” Tucker said. Tucker Raves and I had been friends since we were little kids. We always had each other’s backs. We even fucked some of the same chicks. But not this one. Her name was Ronda Smithes and she was all mine. I had a small inkling that Raves was half racist anyway. He never wanted any brown sugar when we hung out.
“Now you just sound jealous,” I said. “Jealous of what?” he asked. “I have had my share of women.” “But none that looked like this!” I said pointing to Ronda. Yes, we were having this conversation
right in front of Ronda. But she was too drunk and/or high to even care. All she knew was that I was on my way to big things and wanted to hitch a ride.
“Okay, Ronald,” Raves said. “I'll ride this out until you get bored or she gets tired of seeing your Black ass.”
“How can any woman get tired of this?” I said while pulling my pants down. The priest left the small Vegas chapel at this point. “It’s like two Milk Duds and a Snickers!”
“Let's get out of here, baby,” Ronda said. “Sure thing,” I replied. “Already she's making orders,” Raves said as I rolled my eyes. “Man, I gotta get you laid!” I shouted as we made our way towards the Strip. “Before we leave I
am gonna change your life!” “That’s what I’m afraid of,” Raves said as I slapped him on the back. As we walked we past a couple of Marines. They had them silly uniforms on that never seemed
to match. They were handling out booklets trying to find recruits. How the fuck did you plan on getting anyone to join the Army or any of that shit in Vegas? Raves and I snickered as we walked by.
“Something funny?” one of them asked. He was a skinny White boy with a head too big for his body. I stopped and let go of Ronda's hand and put my face an inch within his.
“Yeah,” I said. “You.” Raves took a step forward and I held my hand up. I didn't need help beating this crackers ass. His friend stepped behind him and smiled in my face.
“We are proud to represent our country,” the one in back said. “What about you?”
“Fuck you,” I said. “Y'all ain't trying no Tuskegee shit on my Black ass!” The two of them did some kinda Children of the Corn shit and threw punches at the same time. Ronda screamed and I gave the one in front a left uppercut and dropped down and grabbed the other by the balls and squeezed. He screamed like a girl. I spoke to him from between his slumped over friends legs. “Isn't this funny?” “No...,” he squealed. “Yes, it is,” I said. “You two thought that you were gonna just come and beat my ass and now
look at you. I got you by the balls and your boy is out cold. I think it's funny.” I released his balls and let his friend drop to the ground. A couple of security guards walked towards us and Raves cleared his throat. Suddenly a car pulled up and an old guy in a uniform pulled up. The door was thrown open and he looked at Raves and I.
“Get in,” he said.
“Fuck you,” I said as Raves nodded. The old guy pulled a strange looking gun out and pointed it at us.
“Get in,” he repeated.
“What kinda Star Trek ass gun is that?” I asked. Raves shoved me in and followed as the security guards ran towards us with their weapons drawn. The car sped off before we could close the door. Ronda was left standing on the strip. Raves and I were laughing until we remembered that there was a gun pointed at us.
“You should have gotten that ring back,” Raves said.
“Who said I didn't?” I asked as I held it up for him to see. We both laughed and then turned our attention to the old man. “So who the fuck is you?”
“Call me The Corps.”
This old guy calling himself The Corps just stared at Tucker and I like a wolf that just found something fucking delicious to eat. Every time one of us moved that weird ass gun would move with us. I had no idea where the hell we were headed. All I know is that eventually all the buildings stopped and the car bumped over sand. I looked out the window and saw a small building surrounded by fences. Not just a fence. Five of the sons of bitches. Each one had barbed wire. Tucker nudged me and nodded towards a guard tower. Three guys with big ass guns were stationed on it.
“Is this Area 51?” I asked The Corps. “Better,” he replied. “So there is an Area 51?” Tucker asked. The Corps just sighed and rubbed his temples. “What are y'all doing?” I asked. “Some experiments and shit?” “Something like that,” The Corps said. “Now just sit quietly and all of your questions will be
answered shortly.” We pulled up to a warehouse and a giant door flew open and the car glided in. All of a sudden the
old guy put a mask on and gas started to fill the car up. Before I could even do anything I was out like a light. I woke up tied to a bed. I tried to turn my head but couldn’t. They had my ass tied down.
“What kind of bullshit is this?” I asked. “Y'all ain’t gonna do no gay shit, are you?” I heard Tucker laughing nearby.
“About time you woke up,” he said. “Did you know you talk in your sleep?” “No, I don't,” I said. “Yeah, you do,” he replied. “And you re nastier, too. Talking about all kind of strange shit.” “Do you know where we are?” I asked. “I need to scratch my balls something fierce.” “No,” he said. “The last thing I remember was you trying to grab my dick and then I started
screaming.” “Fuck you,” I said. “Maybe later,” Tucker chuckled. “Right now I am hungry and ready to fight something.” “That’s what I like to hear,” The Corps said. “How long have you been standing there?” I asked. “Long enough to know that if either of you plan on graduating that you'll have to be as far from
each other as possible,” he replied. “I swear you talk far too much. Even in your sleep you can't stop babbling.”
“Told you,” Tucker said.
“You’re worse than he is,” The Corps said to Tucker. “You'll be released soon. Then I will let you know where you are and what you'll be doing. You should be excited. If you succeed here you'll never have to work again.”
“I didn't plan on working anyway,” I said. “Get some rest,” The Corps said as we heard him stand from his chair. “By the time you’re done you will be a killing machine.” Then the room went black.