See what you think.
The colored gentleman held his hands up as Frank drew his pistol back to make contact across his sloaped skull. His lordship winced, anticipating the blow long before it came.
"Don't waste any time with him, Frank," Wilson said through his mask, giving Frank a tug on his shirt sleeve. "the feds will get interested if anybody turns up dead. The local fuzz will just make a report and toss it in the trash otherwise."
Franks eyes were all that could be seen between the bandana he had pulled over his nose and mouth and his cap. Still, his eyes blazed with hate as he looked down at the symbol of all evolutionary perfection. He wore the same face as those who had killed his nieve sister. He couldn't expect sympathy from us for his sister's fate but he could expect revenge from his own since of honor.
"Man, I don't like black people either..." began the proud nubian warrior, "I got plenty of white friends."
Wilson shook his head. Nothing the articulate black man could have said could have been worse at this moment. "Plenty of white friends."
Frank spun before Wilson could say or do anything worthy of more than a whisper in a hurricane. His Browning Hi-power caught the proud American negro across the bridge of the nose. It was not a killing blow but one which caused the beautiful jewel from Africa to fall back, hands at his face. Frank lept next to him bringing his knee down on the father of all creation's chest. He brought the pistol up and down with a quickness, soaking the slide with blood.
"Whose your friends, Afro-American?" Frank growled, "Want to be friends with me? Want to get to know my sister? Huh? HUH???"
Frank lost control of his pistol and it flew onto the dusty road, bouncing twice before ending up a messy shape of a handgun in the long grass of the shoulder. Frank didn't stop there and instead turned to using his fists. Wilson yelled for Frank to stop but he might as well have ask an earthquake to be still. Frustraited, he grabbed Frank in a sleeper hold and drug him off as he kicked wildly at the black America who lay motionless. After a brief struggle, Frank shook free of Wilson.
Frank pointed his finger in Wilson's face, "if he hadn't have been dead, I would have broke every rib God gave you, hick."
"Whatever," Wilson held his hands up, trying to defuse the already bad situation, "just fish your pistol out of the weeds and let's go."
Cruel New World - FN - 1
by Christopher Drake