Episode 2 ( A Clinical Study)

Disclaimer: The Chief still believes in niggers,.. waaaaay more so than he do in any european "fairies" that steel your calcium processes,  taxation and criminal justice...

AH... I tell ya...... times are a rougher and a tougher... or are they?  I fuxin love my gentry.  They classic b.  Real salt of the earth.... nah nah... salt of the wound.  I FUHUX wit my salt of the wound ass muhfuckahs... dead ass.

I went to get some salt wound for a healing ceremony over at the public dis ease center known as Would Help?, or Wood Hell (perhaps thats a medieval penis prison)....., woodhull... somethin like that the lil paps call it... woodhull horse spittle...
yeah... that place..
I had not needed to conduct this particular ceremony this lifetime, so my memory was a little shmokey. Upon arrival I was met with a collection of donkey kong juniors ready to assist and even gesture meaninglessly at a glance.  Its like a zoo with no cages... fuckin brilliant the guy who designed this world... I was entranced.

I consulted with the lay people's chief physician (nah not chief like me... chief like Boss.. i'm not the boss of you dude).   Their magic is most interesting.. a lot of surmising and poke prodding...  they even pantomime reiki with these robots that beep when you tickle em.  It was cute...

Across from me was a gentle man shackled to the bed and guarded by some sort of pig-man sentinal..., an "O ficer"... i dont know what ficing is... but that sound like some shit involving wild dogs and entrails and shit... i aint like his aura.

once el O ficer spoke, i recognized his dialect instantly.. it was copspeak.. i could tell by his cop accent..

Right and i mean RIGHT as their mock medicine man turned to me with some type of plastic dagger a hurlyburly erupted as the captive attempted to make a daaaashing exit...

GASP! A SET UP! I thought to myself as I instinctively protected my medicine pouch and babyskin jewel pouch.  You gotta maintain when the fan blades get shitty nahmeannahmsayin.. them niggas had nunchucks.. bolos they was comin for me b... or so i thought.. they claim they was trynna help protect me from the hullabaloo, hoverin over me and all... but they definitely was bringin my man in the shackles down with knee-in-the-back work.. my real niggas know that knee-in-the-back work aint no joke.

shortly after... the sentinal turns to me and is like.. "Come to the horse spittle and get a free show knowwhuddamean?!"

I was like nah holmes... nah.....

part 2 of the clinical clinic study comin aftah this next L... heres a preview
puerto rican mother being pushed in chair with wheels by super obese 13 year old: "DOH make me git outta this chehr... DOH make me git outta my muddafuckin chehr mufuckah cuz i got arresed in here LASS NITE"

word up,
your local chief