We’re stronger than that. We’re smarter than that. We’re braver than that. We’re better than that. Suicide isn’t a Black thing. Suicide is a...White person’s thing. If Black people were going to commit suicide, we would have committed done so en masse when our forefathers were snatched from the African motherland by greedy White men and greedy White women. Instead we endured, and tried to survive, so that one day, our descendants might be free. What is the source of our strength? We’re descended. We both were fully naked and were lying on the bed, hugging and kissing each other. After a while she went down and came with a glass of milk for me. I drank it and then she told me that she want to have the real sex, which I was longing too, but scared. When I heard it, my pennies started erecting. She took my pennies in her mouth and started sucking till it got fully erected. Then she asked me to fuck inside her vegina. I was literally scared, as if something goes wrong and what I will do if. If you could find some tapestries or paintings that would be suitable then we would be eternally grateful.”Demitris racked his brain. He knew of a weaver in town, perhaps he had something. He certainly had enough money at his disposal. There was also Gerard, the painter. He’d ask him if he could paint something. He knew that Gerard could certainly use the money.“I’ll go and have a word with a few people, and see what I can do. No promises, now, but I’ll certainly try my best.”“We cannot ask. Have fun getting home in your little pink dress!"The mark is panicking. He runs back to the other trailer and finds thatthe door has shut. Without a key - or Paul's lock-picking ability - he'snot getting back in. Now he's trapped outside, dressed as a baby girlwearing makeup, with no money, and all his clothes have been stolen. Allhe has is the key to his front door. It starts to dawn on the mark thathe's going to have to make his way home, through a busy Saturday towncentre, dressed as he.