So one day I was walking around the hood minding my own business when a black guy came up to me. "You want this racist game?" He said. I looked at the cartridge.
It was a Pokemon game called Pokemon creepy black. "Ouch," I said. "I'm so sorry, I will take this off your hands and dispose of it."
"Good," he said. Then he flew off into space to fight hiroshimacuron.
I walked home, happy to play my new game.
When it started, professor oak looked up at me and said:
"You're gonna die real bad. My homies in da hood gave you this game to kill you."
I screamed. Was professor moron trying to talk to me?
"Anyway, pick that little shit Pokemon over there. Their coked outta their minds though, so be careful."
I picked squirtle and started the game.
It started normally. Then, once I actually started playing, some black guy kicked squirtle in the balls and replaced him in my party.
So now I understood why this game was racist.
Every time I beat a Pokemon, instead of saying, they fainted, it said, "they got raped."
It didn't look good.
Then, once I beat the game, it showed a cutscenes of my old self, walking around, and then the black guy raping him. It was so sad, it made me cry.
I learned a lesson today. I learned that you shouldn't tamper with life, you shouldn't be racist, and that I'm gay. I was furiously masturbating the whole time.
THE END