I poked my head out of my tree stump (with the integrated basement vault, natch) for the briefest of moments and saw a glimse of modern television. Serena Williams was beating her expensive tennis racket against the court in an HGH-fueled rage until it was deformed beyond recognition. She then began to scream at the referee like he was a Starbucks barista who’d called the cops because she was a mentally unstable, nonpaying not-customer scaring the paying customers away. I never learned what actually triggered the luxuriantly gorriloid Trigglypuff because her complaints ranged from “Dint get no coaching” to “I do right by my kids”.
There were a couple of younger girls nearby, so I asked them if this is now normal behavior for (legally) female tennis players. The fat one’s eyes lit up and she said “It is for her”, and the cute one nodded in approval and said “She’s a beast”. And so I realized that what Serena Williams is really angry about is that the only hominid on earth with higher testosterone, thus the only nigga with a pimp hand strong enough to keep her in her happy place, died in a tragic police shooting.
RIP Harambe, you dindu nuffin and we’ll never forget you wuz jus takin that boy to church.