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propaganda.net : Skole & Jobb
Racism in the fridgdeSkriv ut Utskrift

En humoristisk tekst om rasisme, der handlingen foregår i et kjøleskap.

Engelsk - FortellingForfatter:



A cold breeze goes by me. I’m standing in the corner. The white cheese is standing in the other corner with the jam and the red tomato. I know they are talking about me. They don’t like me that much. They call me bad names like brown Negro and the Black Death. I don’t like it. I have no friends, nobody talks to me. Once I had a friend; his name was Sam the milk box. But the white cheese and the others persuaded him to be with them instead. Now I’m all by myself, I have no friends.

 

I can see the others coming towards me with the white cheese in the front. I’m scared, they look very mad. “Hey, black boy come here”, the white cheese says. “Why, what do you want from me?” I ask carefully. “We want you out of here”, the red tomato says. “What! You want me out of here? I have just as much reason to be here as you”. “No, you don’t, you are black! That’s the biggest reason of them all. You are not like us, you are a freak”. The white cheese starts getting mad. Now I’m scared, I want to get away from here. But I’m not going to give up. I run down to the butter, who’s always asleep. I hide behind him, as he is a whole lot larger than me. I hold my breath as they pass. They didn’t notice me. Now I can breathe again. I can relax. But I can’t stay here for the rest of my life. A plan is what I need.

 

Now the butter wakes up. I ask him carefully if he too hates me. The butter tells me he has nothing against me. And that he feels sorry for me. But he’s so tired all the time. He explains that he has no strength to help me. Sam the milk box has noticed me, yet he doesn’t tell the others where I am. He wants to talk to me, I pull myself together and start walking towards him to face him and hear what he has to say. He looks as scared as me. “Hey, can I talk to you?” I ask him gently with a shivering voice. “Yes, that’s alright. But first I have to tell you something. I’m sorry for all the things I have done to you, I really am. I just have no guts to stand up to the others. You understand me, don’t you?” I answer him with a big sense of relief in my voice: “Yes, I do. But can’t you help me teach these people a lesson they won’t soon forget?” I ask. “I really want to do that, but I don’t know if I dare” he answers. “Come on, help me. You owe me that much”. Sam the milk box comes to his senses: “Yes, I do. I’m going to help you all I can”. Finally things are going my way I think to myself as I reply to him: “Thank you so much for being my friend again. Now we have to come up with a plan”.

 

Sam goes to talk to the jam. He makes the jam angry by telling him about all the bad things the white cheese has said about him. The clever milk box makes it all up of course. Sam persuades him to help our cause. Next he goes to the tomato and does the same clever thing with him. Being the white cheese’s best friend, he doesn’t fall for it. But now we are three, or four if you count the never-ending snoring machine I hid myself behind earlier that day. We were ready to fight and rid the fridge of the white cheese and the tomato. They were soon to be thrown out of the fridge and spoiled. 

 

Now we all live happy lives together in the fridge. A new white cheese has moved in, and he is in fact very nice. We’ve become best friends. Sam is now married and has gotten a little boy, which I think was about time. After all he does expire soon. Everyone lives a good life after all, at least untill the morning. That's when the family eats breakfast you know.




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