Disclaimer: I don't own The Boondocks. If I did, I would be writing episodes, not fan fictions.
Memoirs of a 21st Century Junior Black Panther
Huey Freeman laid on the worn blue couch that was in his basement, a black 5-subject notebook resting on his lap. He immediately took off his black leather coat and rested on it. He flipped past the first three sections and opened to a fresh blank page. He pulled out a black ink pen from his jeans and began to start writing.
'As an oppressed black man at the age of eighteen now, I've made it my pursuit to write down the events of my life on these pages before the government finally realizes my master plan for a hostile takeover in further years. I believe I should update the events of my life since I've last wrote several months ago thanks to my grandfather's frivolous Cuban ex-girlfriend a.k.a. Castrobitch . Long story for another blank page. Anyway my grandfather, a man of the age of 77, goes on frequent, and very low budget, trips to exotic places (i.e. Castrobitch). He often goes on-line to MyBook to find single, young women in Woodcrest ever since Riley said that MySpace and Facebook were quote dead unquote. Riley, the lost cause, has not only completely nearly every stereotype as a black male, but is unknowingly Castrobitch's daughter's baby's daddy. Bravo. Nonetheless,I have recently had the oppri-'
"Huey!" a loud and obnoxious voice rang through the house, causing Huey to run his pen across the page. He thought he was safe within the confines of his basement but seemingly, Wuncler Soundproofing isn't soundproof at all. "Nigga, I know you here! I ain't seen yo' ass leave the house in two days!" Huey's hands went to massage his temples as his eyebrows pinched together. Sixteen years. Huey thought to himself. Sixteen years and I still ask 'Why couldn't I have a sister?'.
"I'm down here!" Huey shouted. He heard Riley race towards the basement. He sighed as he continued to write, ignoring the slash in the middle of the page. Soon, Huey could hear Riley breathing behind him as he wrote in his notebook. "What you need, Riley. I'm busy."
"What? So now the fam is second to some lil' writin' thing yous doin'? Okay Huey. Yous cold as ice, you know that right?" Riley spat. "But anyway. Granddad went to Costa Rica. "And it's about seven o'clock. So you know."
Huey looked at down at his notebook. "Know what?" he asked sarcastically. "Know you gonna have White Chocolate in and out of here?" Riley let out a chuckle.
"Besides that." Riley smirked. "But you know how Young Reezy do it. I mean, it ain't like I like her an' stuff. We just have what you would call a mutually beneficial relationship. I get to wax that ass on a daily and she get this big, black-"
"Stop." Huey said, cringing his face a little. "What do you want, Riley. I'm getting impatient."
"Anyways, I'm hungry." Riley crooned.
"What of it?" Huey questioned with a shrug of his shoulders.
"What you mean, 'What of it'?" Riley shouted. "You the only nigga in a 50 mile radius that can cook an' I'm hungry!"
"Too bad. Make somethin' for yourself to eat." Huey sighed as he continued to write in his notebook.
"Eat these nuts, nigga! Make somethin'!" Riley declared. Huey groaned as he turned around and looked at Riley. He had freshly done cornrows on his head, a wife beater, and a baggy jeans exposing his black boxers.
"How come in eight years the only thing that's changed in your daily wardrobe is your underwear?"
"Shut up!" Riley yelled. "You know Young Reezy is always fitted up. It's just laundry day is all." Riley's eyes shifted and he groaned. "You know what? I'll just get Cindy to bring up some pizza. I know her mama made some today." Riley retreated back up the stairs and slammed the door.
Huey continued to write, counting off the numbers in his mind. 3, 2, 1.
"And Huey!" Riley called. "Yous a BITCH!" Huey hung his head. He still finds it surprising how predictable his younger brother can be. Soon Huey's cell phone vibrated against the wooden coffee table his grandfather got in Brazil. Huey picked up the phone.
"Hello?" Huey questioned, writing with his right hand.
"What's up my Black Panther Brother?" a voiced cheered from the other end of the phone. "It's M. Caesar! I ain't seen yo' ass in two days. You undercover or somethin'? I mean, I suspected your brother but . . ."
"Whatever, Caesar." Huey laughed. "What you want now man. I'm sitting here educating myself and you probably out there watching a Micheal Bay movie."
"What you got against Micheal Bay, Huey." Caesar sighed. "His special effects suppressing the black man's path to glory or something?" Huey and Caesar haven't changed since they were younger which is probably why they were so close still.
"Just explain to me one thing, Caesar. They clearly dismantle the implicated and blatantly stereotypical 'black' robot, Jazz, with his final words being 'You wanna piece of me'? It's White America trying to put the black man down, saying we're technologically incapable to maintain future life."
"Whateva', nigga!" Riley shouted from up stairs, a laugh following suit. "Stop suckin' 'im Huey! It's not a good look!" Huey sighed. He was really going have to get a real soundproof system installed.