>Cindo chambers the round and stares down the barrel, xer usual toothy grin replaced by a blank mask of despair
>"They had their chance. I told them over and over. Why didn't they listen. I mean COME ON! PEOPLE ARE STILL ENTITLED TO THEIR OWN OPINIONS?" xe tells the gun.
>The clock strikes midnight
>Cindo looks over xer vanilla mocha gluten free chai latte at the crowd cheering below
>No, xe can't look. Xe knows what's coming.
>Xe curls into a ball and plugs xer ears, but it's not enough
>An eerie silence sweeps over the crowd, as the Four Klansman appear over the horizon
>Their leader removes a hood, revealing society's worst fear
>A straight, white, cis, able bodied neurotypical male
>Ben "The Walking Holocaust" Garrison
>Amid the growing murmurs of the crowd, Zyklon Ben takes a deep breath, cups his hands around his mouth and bellows a single word.
>"NIGGERS"
>The slur hangs in the air, reverberating in Cindo's body positive, privilege checked mind.
>A lone female voice in the crowd cries out: "Hey, you can't say that sort of thing, don't you know IT'S 2015."
>A smirk creeps across Ben's face, "Not anymore" he intones.
>"Not anymore" whispers Cindo, as xe places the barrel in xer mouth.

Sick pronouns bro

oh

>NOT ANYMORE

Ded