We stretched in front of the Museum (pronounced Muhz-yuum). Devon looked at the group.
“Look who’s here: me, a blacque man, the Caribbean Queen a black Jamaican woman, The Voat Fat People Hate Verified Shitlady a half-blacque U.S. Virgin Islands woman, big Chief Guyasuta a gay Native American Indian, Ramon a gay Argentine Spanish individual, the Weird Foreign Doctor Chick some kind of Nepali chick from who the fuck knows what mountain, Botendaddy is like the white devil, Bobo, Mr. Charlie, prison work gang road boss, Equinsu Ocha, Ofay, aka the man, aka Charlie…”
“Will you please shut the f@&$ up? It’s Good Friday, I’m not going to listen to some political hate-mongering diatribe against this hard-bodied, tanned, del.ic.io.us, silver fox, hot Botendaddy, ah the smell of it!” Said the Caribbean Queen.
“I was just kidding. We all love the Botendaddy, I was just pointing out that it looks like some kind of literary critic minority outreach Unitarian Kumbaya running event.” Said Devon.
“I am not here because of Botendaddy’s whiteness. His milky white buttocks, ah the taste of it!” Added Ramon.
“He is hot for a white-eye.” Nodded big Chief Guyasuta. “I am madly, passionately in love with him in a 19th Century early Romantic period kind of way.”
“You shit-covered Lardvaarks! You brown skinned Hamplanet mini-moon freaks! I saw him first!” Shrieked the VFPHVSL.
“You are darker than we are, you imbecile-person.” Stated the Weird Foregin Doctor Chick. “Who are you calling a brown person?”
“It’s hot today. I’m not used to that yet.” I said, desperately trying to change the subject, like the great white chief always does in the old movies. “Can we run now?”
“Maybe if you didn’t run in that massive adult diaper you wouldn’t to have been feeling too hot.” Mentioned the WFDC. “I will examine your private regions later for overheating.”
“How can you run so much and be such a bloated fat Crisco-demon?” Snarled the VFPHVSL.
We started running past the University, we had to dodge traffic and pedestrians.
Our first mile time was horrible but it was all uphill. We ran down to the main Boulevard and we ‘crosst’ the street without getting killed.
“Botendaddy is depressed because of his shitty research proposals and his bad science. I will make it up to him, because unlike the University I use extreme lubrication.” Added Ramon helpfully.
“No homo.” Retorted the Voat Lady.
“Idiots.” Said the CQ.
Our two mile time was bad. The 80 degree temperature and the uphill were not helpful, along with dodging cars, trucks, bussssssses, pedestrians, strollers, sk8-kidz and the like.-
We ended up with a feeble 3.30 mile run.
“This heat is too much for me.” Said the WFDC. “I’m used to running in sub-zero temperature at high altitude. Ooh I’m a weird foreign yellow-brown mountain person with a funny accent, Ooh, I’m a stupid, primitive, mute, servant-Sherpa subhuman, bitch-woman! F@&k all of you! I have over eight years of higher education! I went to British public school! Look at my titties, goddamn all of you!” She tore her shirt off again. I desperately tried to cover her with my sweaty, shitty shirt. She grabbed it and sniffed it psychotically.
“I am madly in love with the Botendaddy in a tragic, Englishman with native girl doomed romance kind of ‘Passage to India’ sort of way.” She whispered.
“F@&k this, lets all get naked in the University Club jacuzzi!” Said Chief Guyasuta “But Botendaddy, get rid of that filthy, sweaty, tasty diaper first, OK?”
Peace be the Botendaddy