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A trip to Chruser's house.
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Posted 2005-12-15, 09:44 PM
It was a snowing in Sweden that day, not heavily, but enough to shrink visibility to a level low enough to me a minor annoyance. As I pulled up to Chruser's house, I marveled at the 50's-style construction and the well decorated garden encircling the house like a protective moat. Though it was snowing, I could see roses and daisies, all carefully trimmed and kept sparkling, even in such a rough climate. Since the yard was fenceless, I just walked closer and closer to the front door, while staring at the splended brushery. A blonde man emerged from the side of the house, and yelled "They're fake you know...I had a nigger plant them." I looked at the man as he got closer, and when he was close enough to hear me I told him "I'm looking for Chruser." "I'm Chruser, what's your business?", he said. "I'm Mantralord from your Zelaron White Nationalism and Pride forums", I replied. He gave me a look as if astutely searching for any traces of non-white heritage. His piercing blue eyes searched all the crevices of my face, and while I had a deep feeling of admiration towards this man's gaze, I also felt paralyzed by his grasping eyes. "You're late", he said in a slightly condescending voice. Though we wasn't gazing at me anymore, I felt as if I couldn't feel my legs, let alone move. It took what seemed like an eternity for me to trigger my neurons out of hibernation. "I...I'm sorry Chruser, the train from Vienna was delayed due to some bad weather and I...", I said, which he quickly interrupted with "Well son, white folk aren't late." He paused and took a mighty sniff of the air. "Smells like the wife is cookin up something nice today, for a change. Come inside." he said. I followed him inside like a disciplined pet through his front door.

Inside, the Nazi paraphenilia was everywhere. I couldn't turn anywhere without seeing a picture or a statuette of Hitler or Himmler or any other high-ranking Nazi figure. To the right of the doorway he had a study, and in this study I could see no less than ten copies of Mein Kampf, each a different version and revision, and countless pieces of Nazi and White Nationalism literature around that, as if protecting the central Nazi reich. To the right of the books I could see a gorgeous LCD monitor displaying the Zelaron home page. A slight breeze from a heating unit brought me the smell of cooking meat and potatoes. "Smells like potatoes", I said. "Yeah, I like potatoes...they're white on the inside at least", Chruser replied. I folllowed him into the kitchen, and to my jaw-dropping surprise, there was a black women clad in cooking wear boiling some potatoes. "This is the misses, she's a nigger", he said. "I only keep her around because she makes some good 'taters", he said. Before the shock could even wear off, Chruser made his way to the back door in the kitchen, and I followed him. We went outside, and no more than 3 yards away I could see an axe and some firewood. "Would ya help me chop some wood", Chruser said. There was only a single axe, so I guess the job was mine. I walked over, picked up the axe, and began splitting logs. As I split them, Chruser mentioned how he loved the snow. "It's white", he said. "I like the snow...reminds me of a time when we white men weren't contaminated with them dirty niggers like we are today", he said. Living in Sweden all his life, Chruser had never seen a Hispanic man. He had no idea of my origins, and I can only assume he thought I was one of those hard-working tanned white men from the Southern States. Regardless, he thought I was white, and he accepted me. That was all that mattered.

An hour later, the food was done and we were inside. Chruser's misses had retired to bed, and it was just me and him at the table. We had corn, mashed potatoes, gravy, a whole chicken, and a pecan pie all to ourselves. I slopped a good serving of mashed potatoes, gravy, and chicken on my plate. As soon as I started eating, I was interrupted by Chruser. "I hate them homosexuals", he said. "They're always spreading disease and when white folk do it, it doesnt help the race out at all", he added. I couldn't swallow the food I already had in my mouth. Chruser probably didn't know that I was a homosexual, but his hatred was frightening. "If one of them faggots ever crossed my path I tell ya I got a nice double-barrel shotgun sitting right in my study", he said, as he pointed to the study. I guess I didn't notice it when I first looked in there, but the shotgun was right there mounted next to his computer (which was still displaying the Zelaron home page). I almost lost my appetite, but I finished eating anyway, and even forced down a helping of that pecan pie. The food was delicious, despite the prevalent taste of fear in it. When we finished, it was already 10 at night. Chruser walked over to the sofa in the living room, and pulled out a sofabed. "This is your bed", he said. I walked over and lay in it. It was warm from being next to the fireplace, which was burning the wood I chopped earlier. As I became comfortable, Chruser surprised me yet again and lay next to me. I felt a mixture of both insecurity and delight, as the man I both feared and admired lay next to me. "Ya know, more white folk should be like you. You got good manners and are a good time" he said, as he shifted his head to look at my eyes. I just stared back into his. I slowly drifted asleep, and right as I was about to doze off, I felt the unexpected. He kissed me softly, and said he loved me.

--

Last edited by Mantralord; 2005-12-15 at 09:46 PM.
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Posted 2005-12-15, 09:59 PM in reply to Mantralord's post "A trip to Chruser's house."
*sob* That ending was so fucking beautiful, man! It touched me right here. *insert finger pointed at crotch*
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Posted 2005-12-15, 10:09 PM in reply to Jessifer's post starting "*sob* That ending was so fucking..."
Jessifer said:
*insert finger pointed at crotch*
Sometimes I wonder about this place..
Zelaron - [ Translate this page ]
Zelaron est une communauté en ligne pour des gamers, des programmeurs et des ar.
www.yotor.com/wiki/fr/ze/Zelaron.htm - 5k - Cached - Similar pages
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Posted 2005-12-15, 10:12 PM in reply to Arkantis's post starting "Sometimes I wonder about this place.."
Wtf? Sometimes?

Last edited by Jessifer; 2005-12-15 at 10:17 PM.
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Posted 2005-12-15, 10:13 PM in reply to Mantralord's post "A trip to Chruser's house."
Wow! That was a right good read. It had humor, romance, and racism. Although I don't think anyone would be chopping wood in the snow. You do that during the non snowy periods so... well for obvious reasons.
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Posted 2005-12-15, 10:28 PM in reply to Kaneda's post starting "Wow! That was a right good read. It had..."
I thought Chruser lived above the timber line. That was a good story.
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Posted 2005-12-15, 11:43 PM in reply to Mantralord's post "A trip to Chruser's house."
One word... Funny
XBL: GreatThanatos69
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Posted 2005-12-16, 12:58 AM in reply to Great-Thanatos's post starting "One word... Funny"
That is hilarious........kinda sucks eh never rads zelaron tho =/
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Posted 2005-12-16, 06:01 AM in reply to Mantralord's post "A trip to Chruser's house."
Mantralord said:
It was a snowing in Sweden that day, not heavily, but enough to shrink visibility to a level low enough to me a minor annoyance. As I pulled up to Chruser's house, I marveled at the 50's-style construction and the well decorated garden encircling the house like a protective moat. Though it was snowing, I could see roses and daisies, all carefully trimmed and kept sparkling, even in such a rough climate. Since the yard was fenceless, I just walked closer and closer to the front door, while staring at the splended brushery. A blonde man emerged from the side of the house, and yelled "They're fake you know...I had a nigger plant them." I looked at the man as he got closer, and when he was close enough to hear me I told him "I'm looking for Chruser." "I'm Chruser, what's your business?", he said. "I'm Mantralord from your Zelaron White Nationalism and Pride forums", I replied. He gave me a look as if astutely searching for any traces of non-white heritage. His piercing blue eyes searched all the crevices of my face, and while I had a deep feeling of admiration towards this man's gaze, I also felt paralyzed by his grasping eyes. "You're late", he said in a slightly condescending voice. Though we wasn't gazing at me anymore, I felt as if I couldn't feel my legs, let alone move. It took what seemed like an eternity for me to trigger my neurons out of hibernation. "I...I'm sorry Chruser, the train from Vienna was delayed due to some bad weather and I...", I said, which he quickly interrupted with "Well son, white folk aren't late." He paused and took a mighty sniff of the air. "Smells like the wife is cookin up something nice today, for a change. Come inside." he said. I followed him inside like a disciplined pet through his front door.

Inside, the Nazi paraphenilia was everywhere. I couldn't turn anywhere without seeing a picture or a statuette of Hitler or Himmler or any other high-ranking Nazi figure. To the right of the doorway he had a study, and in this study I could see no less than ten copies of Mein Kampf, each a different version and revision, and countless pieces of Nazi and White Nationalism literature around that, as if protecting the central Nazi reich. To the right of the books I could see a gorgeous LCD monitor displaying the Zelaron home page. A slight breeze from a heating unit brought me the smell of cooking meat and potatoes. "Smells like potatoes", I said. "Yeah, I like potatoes...they're white on the inside at least", Chruser replied. I folllowed him into the kitchen, and to my jaw-dropping surprise, there was a black women clad in cooking wear boiling some potatoes. "This is the misses, she's a nigger", he said. "I only keep her around because she makes some good 'taters", he said. Before the shock could even wear off, Chruser made his way to the back door in the kitchen, and I followed him. We went outside, and no more than 3 yards away I could see an axe and some firewood. "Would ya help me chop some wood", Chruser said. There was only a single axe, so I guess the job was mine. I walked over, picked up the axe, and began splitting logs. As I split them, Chruser mentioned how he loved the snow. "It's white", he said. "I like the snow...reminds me of a time when we white men weren't contaminated with them dirty niggers like we are today", he said. Living in Sweden all his life, Chruser had never seen a Hispanic man. He had no idea of my origins, and I can only assume he thought I was one of those hard-working tanned white men from the Southern States. Regardless, he thought I was white, and he accepted me. That was all that mattered.

An hour later, the food was done and we were inside. Chruser's misses had retired to bed, and it was just me and him at the table. We had corn, mashed potatoes, gravy, a whole chicken, and a pecan pie all to ourselves. I slopped a good serving of mashed potatoes, gravy, and chicken on my plate. As soon as I started eating, I was interrupted by Chruser. "I hate them homosexuals", he said. "They're always spreading disease and when white folk do it, it doesnt help the race out at all", he added. I couldn't swallow the food I already had in my mouth. Chruser probably didn't know that I was a homosexual, but his hatred was frightening. "If one of them faggots ever crossed my path I tell ya I got a nice double-barrel shotgun sitting right in my study", he said, as he pointed to the study. I guess I didn't notice it when I first looked in there, but the shotgun was right there mounted next to his computer (which was still displaying the Zelaron home page). I almost lost my appetite, but I finished eating anyway, and even forced down a helping of that pecan pie. The food was delicious, despite the prevalent taste of fear in it. When we finished, it was already 10 at night. Chruser walked over to the sofa in the living room, and pulled out a sofabed. "This is your bed", he said. I walked over and lay in it. It was warm from being next to the fireplace, which was burning the wood I chopped earlier. As I became comfortable, Chruser surprised me yet again and lay next to me. I felt a mixture of both insecurity and delight, as the man I both feared and admired lay next to me. "Ya know, more white folk should be like you. You got good manners and are a good time" he said, as he shifted his head to look at my eyes. I just stared back into his. I slowly drifted asleep, and right as I was about to doze off, I felt the unexpected. He kissed me softly, and said he loved me.

--
You're gonna bring white supremacists to the forum :P.
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Posted 2005-12-16, 06:04 AM in reply to Willkillforfood's post starting "You're gonna bring white supremacists..."
They're already here.
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Posted 2005-12-16, 06:14 AM in reply to Grav's post starting "They're already here."
GravitonSurge said:
They're already here.
Wait wait wait ...isn't like D3v one?
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Posted 2005-12-16, 10:02 AM in reply to Willkillforfood's post starting "Wait wait wait ...isn't like D3v one?"
We ALL are...
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Posted 2005-12-16, 10:06 AM in reply to pr0xy's post starting "We ALL are..."
great read mantra
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Posted 2005-12-19, 10:47 PM in reply to Willkillforfood's post starting "Wait wait wait ...isn't like D3v one?"
Willkillforfood said:
Wait wait wait ...isn't like D3v one?
You are a fucking douche, in the past 5 threads you've posted, you have put my name in it and calling me a racist in each fucking thread....

dumbass nigger.














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Posted 2005-12-29, 06:21 AM in reply to Mantralord's post "A trip to Chruser's house."
Woah, a PG-13 fanfic. Didn't see that coming. Very nice.
People do chop wood in Sweden while it's snowing on occasion.
"Stephen Wolfram is the creator of Mathematica and is widely regarded as the most important innovator in scientific and technical computing today." - Stephen Wolfram

Last edited by Chruser; 2005-12-29 at 06:30 AM.
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Posted 2005-12-29, 07:37 AM in reply to Chruser's post starting "Woah, a PG-13 fanfic. Didn't see that..."
Pretty damn neat.
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Posted 2005-12-29, 11:55 AM in reply to Mantralord's post "A trip to Chruser's house."
My new fav mantra post ever. The ending had me cracking up.


KagomJack said:
My girth isn't anything to bitch and moan about in long, elaborate paragraphs.
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Posted 2005-12-30, 08:04 AM in reply to JRwakebord's post starting "My new fav mantra post ever. The ending..."
Wasn't there another trip....?
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Posted 2005-12-30, 11:56 AM in reply to HandOfHeaven's post starting "Wasn't there another trip....?"
Don't think so, but hopefuly there will be a part 2.
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Posted 2005-12-31, 12:46 PM in reply to Dar_Win's post starting "Don't think so, but hopefuly there will..."
He owes us a Part 2!

He owes us Chapter 2 of "Displeasure" and the last few things of DFD the Hobo guy.

This is another great story to add to his growing repertoire of...stories.
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