Once upon a time, LONG LONG ago, at an HBCU campus FAR FAR away, a dude was sitting in his car wearing a GREEK LETTER FRATERNITY SHIRT. Problem: The dude in the car was NOT A MEMBER of the organization he bore on his chest.
Upon finding ME in the dining hall, the local campus instaugators and isht starters made me aware of the PERPETRATOR'S location.
I rose up like a bat out of h3LL and proceded to confront and test this PERP to see if he was legit. If not.....I was gonna whup his arse right? Remember, I was YOUNG and DUMB.
I stormed over to his car... looked inside....and said "nukka, what do you know about those letters across your chest?"
Dude looked at me and said "nukka, I know I paid 15 dollars for it. You wanna try and take it off me?" In his lap was the BIGGEST, BLACKEST, MURDEROUS (if that's a word) lookin' GUN in his lap I had ever seen in my life. Dirty Harry had NUTHIN on this dude.
I looked him square in his eyes. (I wasnnt' goin' out like no punk right?) I said to him: "NICE TO MEET YOU FRAT," turned around, and went on my FAT ARSED WAY.
listen......if it meant THAT much to to this guy to MURDER me for those letters, he was a 100% card carrying LIFETIME MEMBER in my eyes. Grandmama didnt' raise no fool. Im' alive today to talk about it. lol.