Way Jalon stood looking out the window of his office at the sun shine down with favor on his property, the entire city of Albany, New York. He had a drink in his hand, a victory splash in the morning to celebrate the winning of the day. In a few moments, Mr. Tokus Stone would come walking into his office and become the biggest pawn that Way had ever played in his economic game of rape and plunder. Tokus Stone of Stoneway, Incorporated.
Blacks are creative that way.
Stoneway, Incorporated would be a commercial hub, moving product from here to there with Tokus Stone at the helm. All types of product, from Hi-Tech components to potato chips, would move with a Tokus Stone thought. But the Feenin belonged to Way, the synthetic substance was the wave of the future and he owned the entire beach, from sea to shining sea. Therein lay the reason for the need of a Tokus Stone, a nigger, a jigaboo with high falutin' ideas. Basic in his existence and necessary only by some big mistake.