Vitriol
Posted: Sun Aug 19, 2018 8:54 am
(Closed thread between Rocky and Outfoxd)
It was about the middle of the school day when Bryant Carver strode into the weight room, still in his street clothes and aggravated, as was his common state of mind.
He had come here from lunch, had in fact left because he didn't want to cause a scene that would get him kicked out. He'd been waiting in line for damn near half the period, and when the lunch-lady (who was white, that was the important part), had given him his food, he swore she gave him about half the portions the other students got.
"Bitch thinks we don't need to eat or some shit?" He had stormed out of the lunchroom in disgust after eating
And it tasted like shit, too.
and headed to the weight room. He was sure if he had stayed in there for too long he was going to have a few choice words for that chick, maybe some nice, biting commentary on how her ass was so fat because she probably ate all the portions she was holding back from the black students.
Bryant found himself gravitating to the weight room more, and more, finding it nice and quiet around this time. Especially devoid of white kids, a big plus. He knew all them uppity little fuckers got their time in with their sports, all the time they needed. He wished for the 50th time that the school facilities had a heavy bag, so he could work out some of his issues. Lifting would have to work for now.
Bryant didn't bother changing, not wanting to waste time or any of his anger dressing and undressing. He just sat down on the nearest machine, which happened to be for butterfly presses, and set his weight.
He started doing the presses, doing them quickly and not smooth at first. His boxing coach probably would've kicked his little ass if he saw his student doing this, and without stretching too. But he was too pissed to care.
"Oughta go back there and take the rest of my lunch outta that fat bitch's cellulite having ass." He said.
It was about the middle of the school day when Bryant Carver strode into the weight room, still in his street clothes and aggravated, as was his common state of mind.
He had come here from lunch, had in fact left because he didn't want to cause a scene that would get him kicked out. He'd been waiting in line for damn near half the period, and when the lunch-lady (who was white, that was the important part), had given him his food, he swore she gave him about half the portions the other students got.
"Bitch thinks we don't need to eat or some shit?" He had stormed out of the lunchroom in disgust after eating
And it tasted like shit, too.
and headed to the weight room. He was sure if he had stayed in there for too long he was going to have a few choice words for that chick, maybe some nice, biting commentary on how her ass was so fat because she probably ate all the portions she was holding back from the black students.
Bryant found himself gravitating to the weight room more, and more, finding it nice and quiet around this time. Especially devoid of white kids, a big plus. He knew all them uppity little fuckers got their time in with their sports, all the time they needed. He wished for the 50th time that the school facilities had a heavy bag, so he could work out some of his issues. Lifting would have to work for now.
Bryant didn't bother changing, not wanting to waste time or any of his anger dressing and undressing. He just sat down on the nearest machine, which happened to be for butterfly presses, and set his weight.
He started doing the presses, doing them quickly and not smooth at first. His boxing coach probably would've kicked his little ass if he saw his student doing this, and without stretching too. But he was too pissed to care.
"Oughta go back there and take the rest of my lunch outta that fat bitch's cellulite having ass." He said.