Author's Note:

Looks like it's time for another adventure in Huey and Riley's new lives in Maryland. This time, they will be encountering some new faces, all of whom will be playing a pretty big role in this saga.

Our story opens with Huey and Riley taking a nice walk in the neighborhood.

"You know Huey, maybe this won't be so bad." said Riley. "I mean, at least we have more room to run around and junk. Oh who am I kidding? Running around ain't the same without some rude traffic drivers to yell at us to get out of the way."

"The hustle and bustle of the big city always was pretty amusing." Huey deadpanned.

"Huey look!" Riley pointed over to some people across the street. "There are some strange people across the street!"

"Those are white folks, Riley." said Huey. "You'll be seeing them every day in this place."

"I guess this place ain't so bad, after all." Riley said. "I mean, them white people will be entertaining us regularly."

"Riley, I think you should know that real-life white people are not all as funny as the ones you see on Seinfeld."

Riley gasped, "They're not?!"

"Of course not." Huey explained. "While white folks can put together a decent sitcom, I can greatly assure you that white people are not witty folks who exist strictly for our amusement."

"Yeah right!" Riley sarcastically said. "What about Fraiser? Or Drew Carey? And the stars of Drake and Josh? They're all naturally funny!"

"No Riley, that's stereotyping!" Huey rebuffed. "Not all white dudes are funny, just because of some cheesy sitcom!"

"Well then how come there are no decent black sitcoms?" Riley asked his brother.

"I blame BET and Tyler Perry films." Huey deadpanned.

Meanwhile back at the house, Robert was watching some TV when all of a sudden, the doorbell rang.

"Now who could that be?" He wondered as he walked up to the front door.

He opened up the door and saw that there was an old man with gray hair.

"Are you the owner of this house?" asked the man.

"Depends." said Robert. "Who wants to know?"

"I'm Ed Wuncler, Sr, the mayor of this town and the father of the owner of the bank that owns every house in this gated community, including yours." said the man.

"Oh, well then, please do come in sir." Robert grinned nervously. "I'm Robert Freeman, the newest resident."

"Freeman, eh?" Wuncler raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, Freeman." Robert nodded.

"Okay then." said Wuncler. "Come, let's sit down."

Meanwhile, the Freeman brothers were continuing their stroll down the lane when they saw a moving van right in front of a house next to theirs.

"Huey, look! There's a family moving in next door!" Riley exclaimed. "And they got a daughter as well!"

"White or black?" asked Huey.

Riley looked at the little girl. "That depends. Can a white person have an afro?"

"Only if they paint landscapes on public television." Huey shrugged.

Back inside the house, Robert and Wuncler were talking in the kitchen.

"So Robert, I have a few questions to ask you." said Wuncler.

"Before you ask sir, would you like some...cheese?" Robert asked Wuncler.

"Cheese? What did you say?" Wuncler growled.

"I asked if you would like some cheese." Robert gulped.

"Why sure, I would love some cheese." Wuncler smiled. "What do you got?"

"We got Kraft and Veleta." Robert said. "I'll go get some."

Robert went to the kitchen and brought back the cheese from the fridge.

"This is real nice of you, Robert." said Wuncler. "So, anyways, back to my questions. I'd like you to answer some."

"What kind of questions?" asked Robert.

"Well for one thing, are you gay?" Wuncler asked. "And if so, do you have a gay lover and/or roommate living here?"

"Gay? No. No way. I'm not gay." said Robert. "I mean, I do think a man looks good with a velvety singing voice and a cool hairstyle, but no. I'm not gay. Besides, I believe marriage in general is wrong."

"Robert, my family founded Woodcrest over a hundred and seventy years ago and I consider this place to be like family." said Wuncler.

"Yeah, so I've heard." Robert chuckled nervously.

"Speaking of family, are you descended from any global Muslims, or Arabs?" Wuncler asked again.

"No sir, it's just me and my grandsons living here." Robert replied. "I mean,

"Grandsons, eh?" Wuncler smirked.

"Yeah, I took them in a couple of months ago when their folks got killed unexpectedly." Robert said.

"You know Robert, you're my kind of guy." said Wuncler. "Old fashioned and a man of simple pleasures. We should hang out sometime."

"Of course, sir." Robert nodded. "Maybe we can have a nice cheddar or gouda next time?"

"Actually, I was thinking more of a nice dinner." said Wuncler. "I own a nice fancy restaurant and I would like you and your grandsons to be there Friday night."

"Sure, we'll be there." Robert said.

"Good." Mr. Wuncler said as he left the house and drove away.

Just then, Riley came inside the house.

"Hey grandad! Who was that old guy?" Riley asked his grandfather.

"Son, you'd better respect that man! He's out landlord!" Robert barked. "He's invited us to be guests at his fancy restaurant on Friday and I want you to be on your behavior."

"That's gonna be a challenge." Riley rolled his eyes.

"Well you'll have to take it!" Robert folded his arms. "Speaking of which, where's your brother?"

"He's out checking out the new family that just moved in." Riley deadpanned.

"Well you'd better make sure he comes back." Robert said as he turned on the TV.

Back outside, Huey was checking out the new family, while Riley was continuing taking a walk. Just then, the little girl walked up to him.

"Excuse me...uh...hi, my name is Jazmine DuBois and my family just moved in across the street." the little girl introduced herself. "What's yours?"

"Huey Freeman." Huey deadpanned. "It's nice to have more black people around the neighborhood."

"What makes you say that I'm black?" Jazmine asked.

"Well for one thing, your afro is much bigger than mine." Huey glared at her.

"I don't have an afro." said Jazmine. "My hair is just a little frizzy."

"Angela Davis' hair was 'a little frizzy', you have an afro!" Huey rudely said.

"I DO NOT!" Jazmine placed her hands on her hips. "And who the heck is Angela Davis?!"

"Never mind." Huey sighed. "So Jazmine, if you're not black, what are you?"

Jazmine thought for a moment, "Well let's see...My mother is one quarter Irish, a quarter Swedish and half German. On my father's side, his mother is part Cherokee and his father is French. Though, I think that's because he's mainly from Louisiana and his father was from Haiti, so I guess that makes me..."

"As black as Richard Roundtree in Shaft in Africa." Huey rudely walked away.

"I DO NOT!" Jazmine shouted. "And who is Richard Roundtree?! Never mind! I resent labels and racial categories! Why should I be forced to choose between my parents?! I love them both equally!"

"I understand too, Jazmine. I'm mixed as well." Huey said rudely.

"You are?" Jazmine raised an eyebrow.

"Of course." Huey said sarcastically. "I'm part black, part African-American, part negro and part colored. Poor me. I just don't know what to do."

"NOW YOU'RE MAKING FUN OF ME!" Jazmine screamed.

"Jazmine, I'm not making fun of you. I really know what you're going through." said Huey. "Back in Chicago, I had a friend whose father was white and mother was black. He felt trapped0 torn between two opposing worlds. He wished he couldn't be thought of as a member of race, but as just another human being."

"Exactly!" Jazmine exclaimed. "That's what I'm saying!"

"Plus, there was nothing but Micheal Bolton and Kenny G playing all that in that house." Huey continued. "It was so sad."

"YOU'RE STILL MAKING FUN OF ME!" Jazmine shouted as she ran inside her house.

"There's no point of reasoning with anyone..." Huey rolled his eyes. "Especially that fake-ass Mariah Carey."

Just then, a man in a fancy suit came out of Jazmine's house and walked right over to Huey.

"Hey there little guy." said the man. "My name is Tom DuBois. I see you've met my daughter, Jazmine."

"You sellin any products?" Huey asked.

"No son." said Thomas. "I'm a lawyer. Do you know what that is?"

"A good reason for me to be disappointed that you're not selling any shoddy products?" Huey deadpanned. "Sorry about my attitude, sir. You'll have to please forgive my low tolerance for condescending."

"Okay..." Tom raised an eyebrow. "So anyways, what's your name, kid?"

"Huey. Huey Freeman." Huey introduced himself.

"Huey, eh? That's a great name." said Tom. "Did you know there was a famous person named Huey?"

"If you are referring to Huey P. Newton, founder of the Black Panthers Party for Self-Defense and icon for the Black Power Movement of the late sixties, then yes." Huey replied. "I was named after him."

"Actually, I was referring to Huey Lewis of the Huey Lewis and the News of the 1980s." Tom clarified.

"That was way before my time, sir." Huey deadpanned.

Meanwhile back at Wuncler Mansion, Mr. Wuncler was having a little meeting with a couple of thugs.

"I never thought I'd actually see the day they would finally come to my town and live in my gated community." said Mr. Wuncler. "I have to get them out of here and back to wherever they came from!"

"Yes sir." said the two men.

"...so I'm leaving it up to you two!" Wuncler continued. "Do not screw this up! Or there will be Hell to pay!"

"Yes pops." said his son, Eddie Jr.

"Sure, whatever gramps." said his grandson, Ed III.

THE END!

Author's Note:

Looks like the Freemans are about to have some evil enemies. What could the Wuncler family want with the Freemans? Whatever it is, it can't be good. Stay tuned for more adventures!