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Description
Daquandarius Perkins inherited a small farm somewhere in Appalachia. Tired of his corporate job, he jumped at the opportunity to thrive on the land and made his way to his new life.
He stepped out of his shitty Cadillac, wearing the finest bedazzled cowboy boots sold in Los Angeles, and patted down his mulatto hair smooth. All eyes were on him. Not in a positive way, though, Daquandarius soon realized.
"Look 'ere, boy," said a pink-faced and rather porcine descendant of Anglosaxons. "We just don't like your kind 'round 'ere."
-Faggert

Description
Daquandarius Perkins inherited a small farm somewhere in Appalachia. Tired of his corporate job, he jumped at the opportunity to thrive on the land and made his way to his new life.
He stepped out of his shitty Cadillac, wearing the finest bedazzled cowboy boots sold in Los Angeles, and patted down his mulatto hair smooth. All eyes were on him. Not in a positive way, though, Daquandarius soon realized.
"Look 'ere, boy," said a pink-faced and rather porcine descendant of Anglosaxons. "We just don't like your kind 'round 'ere."
-Faggert