I'd have to go with Michael Vick. This negar would work assidiuously as four mexicans, bobbing and weaving in and out of rows of corn, carrying bushels of cobs to Dwight the Driver who would lash his backside with a mighty thwack of hickory if the quantity were not to his satisfaction. Too proud to pick cotton you say?!? He'll do as he's told if he wants his portion of gumbo. With skin as negrescent in tone as Susperia's clit blanketed by the hairy man flesh of Hell Awaits Us All's persian phallus, Vick would be the dark beacon in the field of sloth. Motivating fellow servants who dawdle in the plantation of desperation. Lackadaisical lemurs who before, would refuse to plow if not under conditions of duress, would soon grab a hoe with a smile resting on their labia sized lips, with all thoughts of sedition quelled, in knowing that their alpha negar bows before the white throne.



