Post by Macy on Jun 18, 2006 20:07:14 GMT -4
Macy stormed up to her old dorm room in a towering fury. They had just announced the team, and guess what? She wasn't on it. Macy had gone so far as to even pack up her stuff, she'd been so sure she'd make the cut. She picked up one of her suitcases from the corner and hurled it at her bed. She crossed her arms in a huff and glared at the pale rectangles on her walls that had once been covered by posters of 50 Cent, T.I., Snoop Dogg, The girl thingycat Dolls, Mike Jones, Dave Chappelle, Jamie Foxx, Beyonce, Jay-Z, Ludacris, Diddy, and more.
Of course Sam had made the team, of course they only had one black kid on the team. Macy liked Sam and all, but he was just so… lame! Macy could fight, she was a total powerhouse, she never backed down, and she was mo def a LOT smarter than Sam. How could they not see it?! Still fuming, Macy began unpacking her bags. She saved her favorite for last: all of her special weapons. She had special hiding places around her rooms that she had put in last year, basically the only advantage of not having to move into the Debriefing House.
First she unpacked her guns in the little storage space behind the sliding wall panel at the head of her bed. First she put away her smaller guns, except her Colt .32 super NIB, which she always kept with her (but don’t tell any teachers). Then she put away her medium sized guns, like her often-used Desert Eagle, and the large guns, like her Bevin-2 submachine gun with high-res sight. Last she put away her special baby, a sweet Colt M-16, A-1, 5.56, carbine. It didn’t get much better than that. Baby only got to see special situations, and Macy had been looking forward to using Baby while on the team.
Next she unloaded her knives into the removable wall panel behind the big mirror on her dresser. Knives are knives: some were extra sharp, some were serrated; some were long, some were short; some she slipped up her sleeves and in her shoes, some she left in special places around her room for night time visitors. Macy liked to be prepared.
When Macy had finished unpacking her junk, she restocked her mini fridge with malt liquor. She knew they couldn’t search small fridges in dorms, some weird law or something. She liked to keep a little Mary Louise around to keep her going. She grabbed a glass and looked through her latest issue of Ebony magazine. A few glasses and a few stories later, Macy decided she wanted to see who was around. Before the liquor she had been too annoyed to leave her room. She had bragged to all her dorm-mates about how certain she was to get on the team. Macy was a boastful girl, and she had boasted her ass off about the team. She had thought it was okay not to get on as a freshman because no one did, but then look, that little girl thingy redhead got on! The whole thing was a big, racist joke. Macy was tired of the white power themes around the whole school.
Macy was getting enraged again, and she waslooking for a fight. Unless, of course, she ran into her friends, in which case they’d probably just hang around talking about boys or something. Macy didn’t usually partake in the harmless gossip. She was sort of disgusted with guys, mostly because of the way she had been raised. Her father RuQuann had left before she was even born, and she had lived her whole life hearing her mother rant about how worthless men were, and how Macy shouldn’t even waste her time with young uppity playas. Macy loved her mom, thought she was a total angel, and never questioned her harshness toward the less fair sex. Macy knew how to get down at parties and lead a playa on and have a good time, but she had never been in a real relationship. She doubted she ever would be until she reached the age when boys finally grew up… yeah, like that was gonna happen.
Macy left her room and looked around, seeing if anyone was hangin’ and wouldn’t mind her fine ass joinin’ th’ comp’ny.
Of course Sam had made the team, of course they only had one black kid on the team. Macy liked Sam and all, but he was just so… lame! Macy could fight, she was a total powerhouse, she never backed down, and she was mo def a LOT smarter than Sam. How could they not see it?! Still fuming, Macy began unpacking her bags. She saved her favorite for last: all of her special weapons. She had special hiding places around her rooms that she had put in last year, basically the only advantage of not having to move into the Debriefing House.
First she unpacked her guns in the little storage space behind the sliding wall panel at the head of her bed. First she put away her smaller guns, except her Colt .32 super NIB, which she always kept with her (but don’t tell any teachers). Then she put away her medium sized guns, like her often-used Desert Eagle, and the large guns, like her Bevin-2 submachine gun with high-res sight. Last she put away her special baby, a sweet Colt M-16, A-1, 5.56, carbine. It didn’t get much better than that. Baby only got to see special situations, and Macy had been looking forward to using Baby while on the team.
Next she unloaded her knives into the removable wall panel behind the big mirror on her dresser. Knives are knives: some were extra sharp, some were serrated; some were long, some were short; some she slipped up her sleeves and in her shoes, some she left in special places around her room for night time visitors. Macy liked to be prepared.
When Macy had finished unpacking her junk, she restocked her mini fridge with malt liquor. She knew they couldn’t search small fridges in dorms, some weird law or something. She liked to keep a little Mary Louise around to keep her going. She grabbed a glass and looked through her latest issue of Ebony magazine. A few glasses and a few stories later, Macy decided she wanted to see who was around. Before the liquor she had been too annoyed to leave her room. She had bragged to all her dorm-mates about how certain she was to get on the team. Macy was a boastful girl, and she had boasted her ass off about the team. She had thought it was okay not to get on as a freshman because no one did, but then look, that little girl thingy redhead got on! The whole thing was a big, racist joke. Macy was tired of the white power themes around the whole school.
Macy was getting enraged again, and she waslooking for a fight. Unless, of course, she ran into her friends, in which case they’d probably just hang around talking about boys or something. Macy didn’t usually partake in the harmless gossip. She was sort of disgusted with guys, mostly because of the way she had been raised. Her father RuQuann had left before she was even born, and she had lived her whole life hearing her mother rant about how worthless men were, and how Macy shouldn’t even waste her time with young uppity playas. Macy loved her mom, thought she was a total angel, and never questioned her harshness toward the less fair sex. Macy knew how to get down at parties and lead a playa on and have a good time, but she had never been in a real relationship. She doubted she ever would be until she reached the age when boys finally grew up… yeah, like that was gonna happen.
Macy left her room and looked around, seeing if anyone was hangin’ and wouldn’t mind her fine ass joinin’ th’ comp’ny.
